Is there anything new to say about "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari"? Not really, but Halloween is a time for classics. And the best thing about this silent landmark of German expressionism is how magnificently new it still looks. Grainy and faded, sure, but with imagery that still looks like nothing else, no matter how many times it's been imitated or referenced. If you've never seen it, don't miss it.

We open with a framing device, in which handsome leading man Francis (Friedrich Feher) tells a concerned-looking friend about a transforming experience he shared with his fiancee (Lil Dagover), who wanders by with a white nightgown and a glazed expression in full "House of Usher" style. Then the movie flashes back, and it's here the fun begins.

Francis' hometown of Holstenwall is having a carnival, we're told, but it looks like every day in Holstenwall is a day in the funhouse. Walls and ceilings tilt at insane angles, crazy patterns are painted on the streets and floors: It's all unabashedly artificial-looking and wild. Even the man who lights the streetlamps is askew, walking with a limp. But most of the townspeople just stroll through this strange like it's all perfectly normal. The effect is immediately a bit dizzying.

Something new and weird is at this year's carnival: a somnambulist, named Cesare (Conrad Veidt), placed on display by one Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss). Apparently being a somnambulist means you don't mind being kept in a box and can predict the future — but we quickly learn that it also means being an enslaved murderer! Cesare is quickly dispatched to slay a town clerk who gets on Caligari's nerves, as well as a local guy named Alan (Hans Heinrich von Twardowski). Unfortunately for Caligari, Alan was Francis' best friend, and Francis resolves to solve the murder. (The town clerk, it seems, had no friends.)

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