Edit: I began this post before Mike's most recent post, so hadn't read that before typing all that follows!
Right, finally got some time for a few thoughts on The Trial. I should say, I haven't read anything formal about the film or even, as far as I can recall, any reviews, so I'm doing the best I can.
To set the scene, I'm realising increasingly that straightforward 'narrative' cinema (I'm aware that's a fairly loose description, but strapped has used it himself a few times so I'm hoping I don't come in for too much criticism!) tends to be of limited interest to me unless it's really quite an exceptional film, and I'm increasingly interested in form, or more accurately a combination of form and content. Not having any education in films I struggle to express what it is that I find interesting, although there's no doubt this thread is veeery slowly helping me to work a few things out. The upshot is that over the last few years I can find a film very interesting without necessarily understanding why and indeed withoiut necesssarily understanding the film. I don't like a film that's just plain confusing, but I probably prefer a film that's a bit of work than one that is immediately obvious.
For me, The Trial is not only a marvellous combination of form and content but also retains sufficient ambiguity to be open to a variety of legitimate interpretations, without simply being a mess.
In terms of form, I wouldn't have been able to express this before this thread, but it seems to me there are strong elements of surrealism and expressionism as well as some interesting elements of realism. Putting it like that, it is remarkable that Welles is able to pull off such a combination of elements of form, whilst the film is utterly consistent in mood and presentation. In terms of surrealism, I would say that strapped's short suggestion is pretty accurate. The film is about bureaucracy more than specifically the law, and clearly there is a 'nightmare' of an unknown criminal charge and an unending floundering through an impenetrable bureaucracy. Clearly, almost none of the scenes represents straightforward reality (but more of that in a bit). I'm confident that there could be a purely surrealist reading of the film, that all of the events are literally the dreams / nightmares of our protagonist. I would say that the ending supports such a reading, as the sense of place has become barren and utterly divorced from the urban realism we had before, and his suicidal actions become utterly irrational. We also conclude with the mushroom cloud, symbolic of oblivion and the end of all things, rather than merely our protagonist's story.
I mention there an element of realism. Whilst I don't suggest that there could be a purely realist reading of the film, there are a number of elements whcich seem to come from realism, indeed specifically from Italian neo-realism. Virtually all of the film (off the top of my head, maybe with the sole exception of the visit to the painter and later chase and probably the opening interior of the apartment) is set in real places. There are some incredible locations: the barren exterior of the flat, like a warzone, where the old lady is dragging the case, the enormous typing pool, the cathedral / station towards the end, the packed court room. Neorealism is also associated with depicting the 'real' lives of the poor (simplistically), and we see images such as the group of sick people, the group of people in the labyrinth of the court system and the woman dragging the suitcase with her bad leg.
What Welles manages to pull off (and with reference to JD's off the cuff comment, this goes far beyond being 'nicely lit') is to turn these real places and images into an expressionist film. Nothing is quite what it seems, or should be. The opening apartment interior is very odd. Likewise the exterior, being watched by those in the opposite apartment block. The immense clacking sound in the too-big typing pool warehouse is enormously claustrophobic. The painter's room at the top of the steps, surrounded by children's eyes, and the chase through the corridors afterwards (the pemultimate scene in Kill List was reminiscent of this). The advocate's room piled ten feet high with books and papers. Those are just some that have stuck in my head, but I'd say it applied to every scene and setting.
He also plays with some interesting contrasts in setting: the packed courtrrom compared with the same setting a few scenes later when it is empty. The claustophobia of the apartment when it appears utterly overlooked compared with the wasteland the old woman is in. There is a deleted scene on the blu ray of Perking skipping along the empty typing pool tables, in contrast to the packed hive of earlier.
Now, if it were just down to form the film would probably be only interesting rather than good. But for me not only is there good content, but the form and the content inform each other. It seems to me the film deals with wide issues of bureaucracy, the power of the state, the law, in a generally dystopian presentation. It has echoes of 1984 and Brazil although having a less obvious narrative progression is understandbly harder to get a grip on than either. One aspect of that I find interesting is that it is a very 'European' film. I need to rewatch some of the extras, but I'm pretty sure there is some connection to East of the Iron Curtain. Either way, it clearly has some relevance to an overbearing, oppressive Soviet regime, and that's made clear in the apartment blocks and the wasteland outside. However, it combines this (without ever feeling uneven, for me) with obvious Western influences, such as the classically American typing pool and super computer and the French cathedral / station. For me, this gives the message a sense of universality.
As well as these broad themes, it also has personal themes of paranoia, claustrophobia and obsession as well as something going on in terms of sexuality that I can't quite put my finger on. The paranoia and claustrophobia are easy to fit into a surrealist reading of the film, although we're never given an explanation for why they would be taking place. It seems to me the expressionistic form contributes marvellously to these feelings of claustrophobia and paranoia (expressionism being to do with expressing emotion rather than reality), and that Welles hits the mark with this from the very first scene in the apartment, which is incredibly sinister and oppressive. Indeed, the prologue with Welles' baritone narration kicks that off. Other scenes that spring to mind would be when he is surrounded by the old people in the labyrinthine legal building and when he is watched / chased by the children.
The sex thing is interesting. Welles had a habit of casting very striking actresses, and certainly did so in this film Whilst a number of them appear to be 'strong' and autonomous (eg the dancer, the advocate's secretary) I'm pretty sure that all of them offer themselves sexually to Perkins. Is this his fantasy? Something symbolic of his personal obsessions and feelings of inadequacy? The flip side of his feelings of oppression by the state? I'm not sure.
I'm not saying this is a perfect film. It's a touch slow in the second half, in particular the scenes with Welles himself as the advocate. It's not an easy film and I may have at least parts of it totally wrong. But I don't think it should be dismissed as not being good simply because it takes some work to try and get one's head around it.