Fritz Lang, the Nazis, the quest for freedom and his lesser-known films

Legendary film director Fritz Lang (Austria, 1890 – United States, 1976) was no friend of fascism and its accompanying suppression of artistic freedom. While Lang wasn’t one to pen lengthy manifestos, his actions and scattered statements — paired with the themes in his films — paint a clear picture of where he stood. As a filmmaker who fled the Third Reich, he didn’t just turn his back on it; he used his craft to throw punches at it from afar.

Lang’s most infamous brush with the Nazis came in 1933, when Joseph Goebbels, Hitler’s propaganda minister, summoned him to a meeting. According to Lang’s often-told (and possibly embellished) account, Goebbels offered him a top spot running the German film industry under Nazi control. This was despite Lang’s mother being of Jewish descent, a fact the Nazis conveniently overlooked because they adored his work. Metropolis and Die Nibelungen had wowed them with their grandeur.

Getting out of Dodge

Goebbels reportedly praised The Testament of Dr. Mabuse (1933), a film Lang later claimed he’d laced with anti-Nazi subtext. Lang said he saw Mabuse’s criminal empire as a mirror for Hitler’s regime, even slipping in lines cribbed from Nazi rhetoric to mock it. The Nazis banned the film, but Goebbels still wanted Lang on their team. Lang’s response? He bolted. “I was out of there like a shot,” he later quipped, leaving for Paris that night with little more than the clothes on his back.

That escape wasn’t just a dramatic exit; it was a rejection of everything the Nazis stood for. Lang had seen the writing on the wall. His then-wife, Thea von Harbou, stayed behind and embraced the Nazi cause, writing propaganda films, which drove a permanent wedge between them. In a 1967 interview with Cinema magazine, Lang reflected bitterly: “She became a Nazi, and I couldn’t live with that.”

Film as a call to action

He didn’t mince words about the regime’s brutality either. In a 1943 interview with The New York Times, tied to Hangmen Also Die!, he called Hitler’s Germany “a land of terror,” stressing that his film wasn’t just art, it was a call to resist “those who would enslave the world.”

His films from exile scream louder than his quotes. Hangmen Also Die! (1943), inspired by the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich, is Lang’s most direct jab at the Nazis, showing Czech resistance fighters outwitting Gestapo thugs. He didn’t sugarcoat it: “I wanted to show the Nazis as they are, cowardly, cruel, and stupid,” he told Variety that year. Earlier, Fury (1936) took aim at mob violence in America but carried echoes of Nazi crowd-think, while You Only Live Once (1937) hinted at a society quick to crush the innocent, parallels to Germany’s purge of dissenters weren’t hard to spot.

Lang wasn’t a philosopher with a soapbox, though. He let his camera do the talking. In a 1956 chat with Cahiers du Cinéma, he shrugged off deep political dissection: “I’m a filmmaker, not a politician. But I hate tyranny, always have.” That hatred fueled his work.

Lang’s lesser known works

Lang is a cinematic titan whose name conjures shadowy streets and dystopian skylines. He is best known for juggernauts like Metropolis and M. Yet, beneath these towering masterpieces lies a treasure trove of lesser-known films begging to be unearthed. These underrated gems:

●       Destiny (1921)

●       Die Nibelungen (1924)

●       Spies (1928)

●       Woman in the Moon (1929)

●       You Only Live Once (1937), and, again,

●       Hangmen Also Die! (1943)

…reveal Lang’s versatility. They span fantasy, myth, intrigue, science, romance, and resistance, proving his artistry wasn’t confined to his famous frames but stretched across genres and decades.

Start with Destiny, a 1921 silent that’s Lang flexing his early mastery of fantasy and fate. A woman bargains with Death to save her lover, triggering three haunting tales, Baghdad, Venice, ancient China. Stark, dreamlike visuals with arched doorways and eerie shadows hint at Metropolis to come. It’s quiet, philosophical, and hits you in the gut, but its anthology style keeps it underappreciated despite critical praise.

A fairy tale for adults

Then there’s Die Nibelungen, a two-part silent epic from 1924. It’s a plunge into mythic grandeur with dragons, betrayal, and revenge from a Germanic saga. Lang, with ex-wife Thea von Harbou, built jagged sets that scream Expressionism, paced like a slow, tragic burn. Siegfried slays a dragon only to fall to treachery; Kriemhild’s vengeance could break stone.

Critics loved it. Lang called it “a fairy tale for adults,” but it’s often eclipsed by Metropolis. Its near-five-hour sprawl might daunt modern viewers, or its medieval roots feel far from Lang’s urban grit. Still, its visual splendor and emotional heft make it a hidden knockout.

Next, Spies (1928) throws a silent thriller curveball. A dashing agent tangles with Haghi, a mastermind juggling banks, bombs, and a clown disguise. It’s fast, twisty — think James Bond before Bond — with sleek sets bridging Expressionism and suspense. Train wrecks and secret codes keep it humming, but Dr. Mabuse steals its spotlight, leaving Spies a slick, overlooked gem.

NASA noticed

Jump to Woman in the Moon from 1929, a wild sci-fi detour. Forget Metropolis’s robots, Lang dreams up space travel pre-Sputnik. A crew hunts lunar gold, with a rocket launch so real NASA took notes. Consulting scientists, he nailed the nuts and bolts; the starry void effects still dazzle. The human drama, jealousy, sacrifice, greed, grounds it, though it’s quieter than his flashier works. Released just before talkies, it’s dismissed as a quirky sidestep. Yet, it’s a sleeper hit, seeding 2001: A Space Odyssey and beyond.

Then comes You Only Live Once (1937), Lang’s Hollywood grit in high gear. Henry Fonda’s an ex-con framed for murder, fleeing with pregnant wife Sylvia Sidney. It’s proto-noir where social critique meets doomed romance. The foggy, love-and-death climax could melt iron, but it’s often shrugged off as Fury’s lesser sibling despite its lean punch.

Take that, you Nazis

Fast forward to 1943’s Hangmen Also Die!, a wartime thriller from exile. It’s Lang’s clenched fist against the Nazis, inspired by Reinhard Heydrich’s assassination. With Bertolt Brecht, he crafts a tense, noir-soaked tale of Czech resistance and Gestapo reprisals.

Dark alleys, flickering lights, and moral ambiguity hit hard, like a resistance member weighing self-sacrifice to save hostages. “The best weapon against tyranny is the truth,” Lang implies, wielding it fiercely. It’s raw and gripping, but often lost between his noir classics.

Why aren’t these household names? Destiny’s structure confuses, Die Nibelungen drags if you’re not into epics, Spies fights Mabuse’s shadow. Woman in the Moon leans on melodrama, You Only Live Once lacks fanfare, and Hangmen creaks under wartime urgency. But their flaws don’t dim their shine, they show Lang wasn’t a one-trick pony.

He spun fantasies, myths, intrigues, rockets, romances, and defiance, all with stark contrasts and relentless tension. These underdogs round out his legacy. So skip rewatching M next time and dig into these treasures instead. They pack a punch, proving the best gems take a little effort to find.