Symphonic sweep of seminal sci-fi

Lang's film, scripted by the director and his then wife, Thea von Harbou, is a parable about a futuristic city where the rich live in decadent luxury, while the workers toil below ground to keep the great machines working.

Its message - that the Brain (Capital) and the Hands (Labour) must be joined by the Heart - is wildly Utopian, but redeemed by some of cinema's most extraordinary images. The cityscapes, machine halls and metal robot Maria - one of the sexiest creatures in cinema - have never been equalled, influencing everything from Modern Times to The Fifth Element.

Metropolis carries some unpleasant echoes of its time: a Star of David is displayed prominently on the door of evil scientist Rotwang (after Lang divorced her, Harbou became a Nazi supporter). In a hideous irony, however, the labourers trudging to and from work now suggest not so much wage slaves as concentration-camp victims.

Metropolis has been re-released with new soundtracks, notably a 1984 electropop one by Giorgio Moroder, which worked surprisingly well (although Bonnie Tyler belting out Here She Comes was too much for some).

But Huppertz's original score adds a new dimension. Light and lyrical in the Prelude (the film is divided into movements), it grows gradually darker and richer in the Intermezzo and final Furioso.

The Barbican Hall's shape is not entirely suited to cinema, and the light from the music stands rather muted Karl Freund's cinematography. But this is a minor quibble in an evening that proves how the talkies, with their subservience to plot and dialogue, robbed cinema of a vital part of its vocabulary.

Metropolis (1927 Version)
Cert: PG