Riefenstahl (2024) Writer & Director: Andres Veiel / Editors: Stephan Krumbiegel & Olaf Voigtländer / Cinematographer: Toby Cornish (1.85 : 1) / Composer: Freya Arde / Editors: Editors: Alfredo Castro,
Stephan Krumbiegel, & Olaf Voigtländer / Personnel: Leni Riefenstahl, Adolf Hitler, Joseph Goebbels, Rudolf Hess, Albert Speer, and a cast of 6 million / Germany / Distributor: Kino Lorber / Not Rated / Length: 115 mins.
Everything you always wanted to confirm about Hitler's personal Nazi propagandist (that was pretty much already presumed factual). Leni Riefenstahl died in 2003 at the age of 101. Thirteen years later, Sandra Maischberger caught wind of the passing of Riefenstahl’s much-younger partner and wound up gaining access to the house they shared. What she found inside was enough in the way of archival material — films, video, photos, recordings and letters — to produce this riveting "found footage" documentary.
To her credit, Riefenstahl was a good German, never once denying her party affiliation while wanting very much to move past it. And if you harbor any doubt about Riefenstahl's awareness of the Holocaust around her, Veiel makes it clear by evoking the old saying, “For something to be remembered, other things must be forgotten.” (Nazi sympathizer is a big “other thing” to disregard.) That may account for Reifenstahl's resenting being called a “Nazi-era filmmaker." As she said, “In all the films I made so far, I was captivated by the beauty of the subject.” And that, along with the matter of the Hitler affiliation, is precisely why Riefenstahl’s name is still up for discussion.
Despite the competition, and it is plentiful, no film or television broadcast of any Olympic ceremony comes close to matching Olympia (1938), the might and coverage of which is so meticulously transcribed you’d swear it was storyboarded. She was no slouch in the horror department, either; when people ask me to name a favorite film in the genre, something the mere mention of which is enough to set the spine to tingling, I’m all over Triumph of the Will (1935), Riefenstahl’s account of the 1934 Nuremberg Rally.
The monstrosities begins with a mother hoisting her infant high above her head so that the babe may catch a glimpse of Der Fuhrer’s plane descending from the sky like an angel from heaven, before climaxing in a Teutonic tizzy of hate speech from the master of the form. I'm still trying to track down a legible, reasonably priced home video pressing of her Hitler docs. In the meantime, this is a superb jumping off point for those curious in the ways of cinema’s foremost Nazi mouthpiece. ***
Riefenstahl (2024) Writer & Director: Andres Veiel / Editors: Stephan Krumbiegel & Olaf Voigtländer / Cinematographer: Toby Cornish (1.85 : 1) / Composer: Freya Arde / Editors: Editors: Alfredo Castro,
Stephan Krumbiegel, & Olaf Voigtländer / Personnel: Leni Riefenstahl, Adolf Hitler, Joseph Goebbels, Rudolf Hess, Albert Speer, and a cast of 6 million / Germany / Distributor: Kino Lorber / Not Rated / Length: 115 mins.
Everything you always wanted to confirm about Hitler's personal Nazi propagandist (that was pretty much already presumed factual). Leni Riefenstahl died in 2003 at the age of 101. Thirteen years later, Sandra Maischberger caught wind of the passing of Riefenstahl’s much-younger partner and wound up gaining access to the house they shared. What she found inside was enough in the way of archival material — films, video, photos, recordings and letters — to produce this riveting "found footage" documentary.
To her credit, Riefenstahl was a good German, never once denying her party affiliation while wanting very much to move past it. And if you harbor any doubt about Riefenstahl's awareness of the Holocaust around her, Veiel makes it clear by evoking the old saying, “For something to be remembered, other things must be forgotten.” (Nazi sympathizer is a big “other thing” to disregard.) That may account for Reifenstahl's resenting being called a “Nazi-era filmmaker." As she said, “In all the films I made so far, I was captivated by the beauty of the subject.” And that, along with the matter of the Hitler affiliation, is precisely why Riefenstahl’s name is still up for discussion.
Despite the competition, and it is plentiful, no film or television broadcast of any Olympic ceremony comes close to matching Olympia (1938), the might and coverage of which is so meticulously transcribed you’d swear it was storyboarded. She was no slouch in the horror department, either; when people ask me to name a favorite film in the genre, something the mere mention of which is enough to set the spine to tingling, I’m all over Triumph of the Will (1935), Riefenstahl’s account of the 1934 Nuremberg Rally.
The monstrosities begins with a mother hoisting her infant high above her head so that the babe may catch a glimpse of Der Fuhrer’s plane descending from the sky like an angel from heaven, before climaxing in a Teutonic tizzy of hate speech from the master of the form. I'm still trying to track down a legible, reasonably priced home video pressing of her Hitler docs. In the meantime, this is a superb jumping off point for those curious in the ways of cinema’s foremost Nazi mouthpiece. ***
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