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From Siegfried to Triumph of the Will: Impulses of the Avant-Garde
The most distinctive artistic language of pre-revolutionary German cinema is expressionism. Silent films such as The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920, dir. Robert Wiene), The Tired Death (1921, dir. Fritz Lang) and Nosferatu (1922, dir. Friedrich W. Murnau), and even earlier, The Student of Prague (1913, dir. Paul Wegener) and Homunculus (1916, dir. Otto Rippert), are striking not only for the fantastical nature of their themes and the macabre nature of their plots, which refer to “black romanticism”, but above all for their overall atmosphere. The pointed “crooked architecture” of the sets, the carefully thought-out contrasts in lighting, the distorted perspectives, and austere stylized images, all served to enhance the spectacle.
The overly artificial and menacingly shaped surroundings are meant to correspond to the state of the protagonists: the diabolical and instinctive components of the soul come to the fore, asserting themselves with fateful inevitability. The same is true of the two-part Nibelungen (1924, I. Siegfried; II. Kriemhild’s Revenge), an adaptation of an Old Germanic legend in which, against a backdrop of large stylized decorations and ornamental pictorial compositions (Lang studied architecture and art history), heroes act on a stage where the ideals and values of strength, honor, and loyalty clash heavily with instincts and fateful forces.
Although Lang left to work in Hollywood in 1934, both the modernist and völkisch currents of National Socialism occasionally refer to the film; the same applies to the educational film The Paths to Strength and Beauty (1925, dir. Wilhelm Prager), where, however, the Nordic mistiness of the Nibelungs (romanticism, Wotan) is replaced by Mediterranean sunshine (classicism, Apollo) and which pays homage to a healthy body as an essential prerequisite and foundation for a healthy spirit. The scenic depiction of the period from antiquity to the present day was achieved by employing a large number of gymnasts and dancers (one of whom is Leni Riefenstahl, who appears on screen here for the first time, and was devoted exclusively to capturing the physical beauty of well-built, strong people, depicted in complete nudity, but devoid of any lascivious eroticism.
Another specifically German genre in our context is the so-called “mountaineering film” (Bergfilm) associated with the name of Dr. Arnold Fanck. From his youth, he was attracted to mountaineering and skiing and soon became a well-known photographer of mountain scenery. Even before World War I, he shot an amateur film called The Ascent of the Rosa (1913), and barely a year after the end of the war, he founded his own film company. After his sporting beginnings – The Magic of Skiing (1920) and Fox Hunt in Engadin (1922) – came a series of exceptional and increasingly successful dramatic mountain films: Between Life and Death (1923), The Sacred Mountain (1926), The Daring Jump (1927) and The Battle for the Matterhorn (1928).
Fanck’s artistic peak, for which he teamed up with another outstanding director, G. W. Pabst, was White Hell (1929). In the film, a young couple climbing Mount Piz Palü meet a man who has been searching for years for the remains of his fiancée, who fell to her death during their trip together. During their journey, all three find themselves in mortal danger. However, while the couple is rescued by a pilot (played by Ernst Udet), the man freezes to death after generously giving away his jacket. On a piece of paper he writes just before his death: “Now I am with my fiancée again.” Through fascinating shots filmed in often extremely difficult conditions (he was fundamentally opposed to stuntmen and studio work; in his “natural” films, everything had to be real, even heroism) Fanck shows the magical power of the mountains, full of beauty and danger. As in most of his other films, the main character in White Hell is played by Riefenstahl, who, after the enthusiastic reception of her other thrilling mountain adventures Storm Over Mont Blanc (1930) and the skiing comedy White Ecstasy (1931), she was given her first chance to direct.
She made another film set in the mountains, this time inspired by an old legend, called Das blaue Licht (Blue Light, 1932). The rising director also plays the role of Junta, a wild girl who has been banished from the village and is the only one who can reach the summit of Monte Cristallo with its gigantic rock, which under certain conditions emits a mysterious and mesmerizing blue light into the valley (while the other villagers, lured by it, die while climbing the mountain). Here, as in Fanck’s films, the mountain is presented as “both supremely beautiful and dangerous,” as a “majestic force calling for definitive self-affirmation and escape from oneself,” from the small individual self to a “brotherhood of courage and death.” But while Fanck, according to Susan Sontag, approached these “highly romantic themes” of passion, purity, and death “in a somewhat boy scout manner,” Riefenstahl adds a socio-critical dimension: Junta’s final death is not caused by the unattainability of the lofty goal symbolized by the mountain, but by the pettiness, the materialistic and prosaic thinking, of the envious villagers and the blind rationalism of her lover, a visitor from the city who has the best of intentions for her.
Blue Light and most of Fancke’s films are certainly exceptional artistic achievements compared to the Hollywood-style studio productions of the time. Joseph Goebbels gave specific consideration to the adventurous and patriotic film The Rebel by Luise Trenker(1932), set during the Tyrolean mountain rebels’ resistance against Napoleon’s army, which, like Das blaue Licht, was also liked by Adolf Hitler.
Translated by Ondrej Mann.
14 comments
Thank you for writing this and I appreciate the hyperlinks to other Counter-Currents articles that delve into the specific films.
Thank you. I was surprised how many films from this series have already been reviewed separately on the CC website. Especially from the fourth part of this series, which deals with authentic films from the Third Reich.
Fantastic.
Ondrej: have you seen the movie Jew Suss: Rise and Fall (2010)? It’s about the making of the famous movie Jud Suss in 1939-1940 and has characters such as Goebbels and Veit Harlan. Essentially it’s the back story of how this movie was made under the Third Reich. Ironically Stanley Kubrick was married to Harlan’s niece and wanted to make a movie just like that but he never got around to it. The Germans finally did it in 2010. It is anti NS propaganda of course, the original German title would be translated: Jew Suss: Film Without A Conscience.
I haven’t seen this film, but it sounds interesting. The classic film Jew Suss: it will be in the next episode, along with other similar films. You recently made it into the top 100 commentators. Congratulations! Are you planning to buy a membership? The advantage is that you can read articles behind the paywall, edit your comments, and your comments are displayed immediately. If you spend so much time on CC that you are among the 100 biggest fans, it’s a good idea to support your favorite website.
So much space for Fanck, and so little for Murnau, Pabst and Lang who are infinitely more important directors…
This article is rather an introduction to another article about authentic films from the Third Reich. I know you are interested in these films, so I included an interactive link to your review on CC in the article.
If I had written this series, I would definitely have focused more on these directors and gone into greater detail. But I am only translating it. This series is primarily about films from fascist Italy, Nazi Germany, occupied territories, and Japan. The rest of the films are just background information.
I have Blue Light. I want to watch it. I willl watch it!
I’m sure. Enjoy the film and read the other parts of the film series. There’s a lot of interesting movies.
No fan of the repulsive inglorious basterds, but tarantino’s casting of Germans August Diehl and acquainting amerika to the superb scene-stealing Christoph Waltz was a good move. Why don’t more hollywood directors cast lesser known but great European acting talents in amerikan movies? Oliver Musucci was excellent in Look Who’s Back.
“Oliver Musucci was excellent in Look Who’s Back.”
Yes he was indeed—completely extraordinary. Perhaps the only positive portrayal of AH in film history and aside from a few foibles the rendition was positively glowing. My assumption is that the filmmakers wanted the audience to see that Hitler was not some rug chewing psychopath given to ranting, and to understand how appealing he must have been in the first place. The answer of course is: very appealing indeed.
I’m planning a big interview with the author after the film series ends. And we’ll talk about this topic as well.
If you’re interested in Jud Süß, you should read my review Sussical, pts I/II,
Countercurrents July 11, 2023. Also, I’ve reviewed Grosse Freiheit nr. 7 and Munchausen. Both are unique, enjoyable popular films free of “Nazi” tendencies, if that’s your taste.
Thanks for your great reviews. There are links to both of your reviews in the next episode of this series. And there’s much more!
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