First things first: the Maria Robot is not gold, she’s silver. I know this. I’ve seen her that way for years, onscreen and in my head.
Indulge me a moment’s reflection. In 19XX, when I was a boy of fifteen, I saw Metropolis for the first time. I don’t know what version I saw, but I do know it wasn’t Giorgio Moroder’s, because it wasn’t in color, and Pat Benatar was nowhere to be heard.
I saw the movie alone, late at night, on TV. The French channel. The intertitles were subtitled into French, which didn’t matter at all, of course. I was hooked. This blog is a product of that night.
I wanted to see the movie again, immediately. I mountainbiked up the road to my town’s local Blockbuster Video (RIP), found the store manager, and informed him of the VHS tape I wished to order: specifically, whatever tape had Metropolis on it. No Internet, folks. The only way to learn was to ask.
“Which Metropolis?” the guy asked. Which? “The one that was on TV last night—on the French channel,” I explained. He hadn’t seen it. “Was it in color?” he asked me. No. “There’s a colorized one,” he said. “And the soundtrack’s by Queen.”
