****CONTAINS SPOILERS****
Finally somebody has ventured out to examine Leni Riefenstahl's
career, films, life and images without pointing a finger at her and
calling her a facist or a Nazi. I'd read about Riefenstahl before and
knew her work but never once did I realize the scope of her work,
the odds she has faced. Never did I really understand her, or at
least feel like I did. I certainly feel that I understand her more now.
At age 90 (or so), we follow Leni, still a charismatic and vivacious
woman, to the barren, snow-covered mountains she climbed in
those lyrical Bergfilms that she began her film career with. It's
incredible to see her walk though the very same UFA sound stage
where she first met von Sternberg and Marlene Dietrich, or to
watch her as she stands on the exact spot in a subway where she
saw an advertisement that changed the course of her life. It's also
amazing to see the footage that was shot for the documentary of
the Nuba tribespeople, footage that was never made into a movie.
And where did they find all that behind-the-scenes footage from
The White Hell of Pitz-Palu and Olympia?!? Just seeing that is
worth viewing this movie.
Throughout the documentary, Riefenstahl keeps telling us that
Triumph of the Will was just a job, and from what she says, I
believe her. I'm sorry, but I just do. There's no question she made
probably the best propaganda film ever (Bowling for Columbine
not with standing; of course they're two VERY differant movies). It's
just that she wanted to do do something new on film, something
that had never been done before. I'm not trying to justify anything
the Nazis did. That's just the way I see it.
My favorite scenes in this movie are the ones in which Riefenstahl
is caught behind the scenes, arguing with her long-suffering
director, proving that she's still very much an individual, still very
much a director herself. When she says something to the effect of
"The camera must always be on me!" you can tell that being
recognized as an artist and an important person is clearly getting
to her head. Frankly, I don't blame her. If I'd done as much as she
had to push the bounderies of cinema and then be scorned
because of one film, I'd want all the sudden attention I could get.
Finally somebody has ventured out to examine Leni Riefenstahl's
career, films, life and images without pointing a finger at her and
calling her a facist or a Nazi. I'd read about Riefenstahl before and
knew her work but never once did I realize the scope of her work,
the odds she has faced. Never did I really understand her, or at
least feel like I did. I certainly feel that I understand her more now.
At age 90 (or so), we follow Leni, still a charismatic and vivacious
woman, to the barren, snow-covered mountains she climbed in
those lyrical Bergfilms that she began her film career with. It's
incredible to see her walk though the very same UFA sound stage
where she first met von Sternberg and Marlene Dietrich, or to
watch her as she stands on the exact spot in a subway where she
saw an advertisement that changed the course of her life. It's also
amazing to see the footage that was shot for the documentary of
the Nuba tribespeople, footage that was never made into a movie.
And where did they find all that behind-the-scenes footage from
The White Hell of Pitz-Palu and Olympia?!? Just seeing that is
worth viewing this movie.
Throughout the documentary, Riefenstahl keeps telling us that
Triumph of the Will was just a job, and from what she says, I
believe her. I'm sorry, but I just do. There's no question she made
probably the best propaganda film ever (Bowling for Columbine
not with standing; of course they're two VERY differant movies). It's
just that she wanted to do do something new on film, something
that had never been done before. I'm not trying to justify anything
the Nazis did. That's just the way I see it.
My favorite scenes in this movie are the ones in which Riefenstahl
is caught behind the scenes, arguing with her long-suffering
director, proving that she's still very much an individual, still very
much a director herself. When she says something to the effect of
"The camera must always be on me!" you can tell that being
recognized as an artist and an important person is clearly getting
to her head. Frankly, I don't blame her. If I'd done as much as she
had to push the bounderies of cinema and then be scorned
because of one film, I'd want all the sudden attention I could get.