9/20/22
Newsletter103
The Crack of Dawn
When I was in 9th grade I was in the school library and came upon a brand new, large, coffee table book of photographs called The Last of the Nuba by Leni Riefenstahl. The photos are all of the African tribe, the Nuba, who were renowned throughout Africa for their hand-to-hand fighting skills, and held an annual fighting competition. I noticed at the time that the Nuba men were in ridiculously good shape with washboard stomachs and ripped, muscular arms. Each color photo was beautifully composed. Soon thereafter I learned about the Nazis famous first propaganda documentary film, Triumph of the Will (1934), directed by Leni Riefenstahl. OK, she took photos of Africans and made movies for the Nazis. Who was she? Well, she was a pretty German actress who became known in her first movie appearance in Ways to Strength and Beauty (1925), ostensibly a German “cultural” film about physical fitness and good health, but its highlight is young Leni Riefenstahl dancing topless. Then Leni starred in a series of “Mountain films,” which were ostensibly about pretty girls climbing mountains and finding spiritual redemption, but were also at least partially about giving the audience ample opportunity to look up the girl’s skirt. Leni made these movies for an intelligent, astute director named Arnold Fanck, who taught her the techniques of filmmaking.
In 1932 Leni Riefenstahl directed, produced, co-wrote and starred in The Blue Light, a beautifully made, extremely visual, artsy-fartsy piece of nonsense that was a hit all over Europe and announced her arrival as an important, cutting edge filmmaker.
Adolf Hitler and the Nazis came to power in Germany in 1933. The Nazi propaganda minister, Joseph Goebbels, produced a couple of propaganda films that Hitler hated. Although evil, Hitler was also smart, and hired the hippest young filmmaker in Europe, Leni Riefenstahl, to make an “artistic” documentary about the Nazis. Well, Leni didn’t give a shit about politics – and even if she did, the Nazis had just taken office and were still an unknown commodity – and she was given an unlimited budget. She made Triumph of the Will, one of the most famous documentaries of all time, that doesn’t give a hint about who the Nazis really were or what they stood for. But it’s loaded with really nice, well-composed shots, interesting montages, and she gave Hitler a spectacular entrance, his plane coming through the clouds with celestial beams of light. As a film director (and editor), she earned her money and turned in the best film she could make.
Her next film, Olympia (1938), is also one of the greatest documentaries of all time. The film covers the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. The star of the Olympics that year was the black American runner, Jesse Owens, who won four gold medals. Visual proof, at least for me, that Leni Riefenstahl was not a Nazi and never was is the fact that she keeps cutting back to Hitler’s hopefulness before the races, then his embarrassing, childish anger at losing, stomping his foot and pounding the rail. But the best thing about the film is the way she shot it. It’s a work of art.
I love this. Leni Riefenstahl spent the entirety of World War II in Berlin shooting, shooting, and reshooting, a musical about a Spanish dancer, played by her, called Tiefland (1954). It’s a disaster. When the war ended Leni was arrested, tried, and completely exonerated. Although she certainly didn’t use this as a defense, I believe her response to the idea that she collaborated in any way during the war, would be, “Collaborated? That goddamn motherfucking war fucked up what would have been my greatest movie!”
No one ever forgave Leni Riefenstahl. She was hounded for the rest of her life for being a Nazi. She finally escaped the condemnation by moving to Africa and photographing the Nuba tribe. And it is obvious comparing Olympia with the Nuba photos that Leni Riefenstahl worshipped fit, ripped male bodies, and inventive filmmaking. She was a great artist. There is a terrific documentary about her called, The Wonderful, Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl (1993), directed by Ray Müller. I recommend it.
Up and at ‘em.
As I read this, I was thinking "I wonder if Josh has seen "The Wonderful, Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl?" And then there it was. Great column as always! Criterion included "Olympia" in a box set of Olympics documentaries. It really is a terrific film.