The fact that built environments tell stories is nothing new. What is new, however, is the extent to which some filmmakers make use of this possibility. The selection ranges from silent film classics to contemporary arthouse cinema, from expressionist skyscrapers to mid-century modernism. What they all have in common is that architecture is not merely a backdrop, but a statement.
Fritz Lang’s monumental silent film depicts a futuristic megacity with skyscrapers, machine halls and underground workers’ quarters. Inspired by 1920s New York and German Expressionism, Lang, together with his film architects Otto Hunte, Erich Kettelhut and Karl Vollbrecht, created images that continue to shape the visual language of dystopian urban architecture to this day. Without Metropolis, there would be no Blade Runner, no Batman and no Gotham.
Alfred Hitchcock’s masterpiece uses San Francisco’s architecture as a mirror of inner states. The missions, the stairwells, the legendary Ernie’s Restaurant, the vertical compositions. Here, spaces become vessels of vertigo, obsession and repetition. Vertigo demonstrates just how precisely architecture can visualise psychological states.
Sofia Coppola’s melancholic film is largely set in the Park Hyatt Tokyo, designed by Kenzo Tange and fitted out by interior designer John Morford. The hotel’s glass-clad volumes, clean lines and almost sacred verticality create an atmosphere of otherworldliness that mirrors the characters’ inner sense of loss. Outwardly, the hotel’s tranquillity contrasts with the fast pace of Tokyo. A film in which architecture becomes an emotional space.
Wes Anderson’s cinematic love letter to old Europe is set in a fictional grand hotel, modelled on real-life locations such as the Grandhotel Pupp in Karlsbad and the Grand Hotel de l’Europe in Bad Gastein. Filming took place in Görlitz, where a historic department store provided the setting for the hotel’s interior. Symmetrical compositions, a palette of pastel colours and meticulously detailed sets make the film a study of space, nostalgia and decay.
Alex Garland’s debut film is set almost entirely on a secluded estate in the Norwegian fjords, shot at the Juvet Landscape Hotel and complemented by a glass villa. The architecture is part of the experiment: transparent walls, hard materials, an environment that simultaneously stages control and observation. A film about artificial intelligence in which the architecture plays an active role.
Both engage with space, light, proportion and the question of how people move and feel within a designed environment. Anyone who watches films with an architectural eye sees more. And the reverse is also true.