
Triumph of the Will (1934)
Bad Nazis, Good Pizza (Note: No Pizza)
Remember when Nazis were, well, threatening? From fun romps like Mel Brook’s “Producers” to the mass of video games that allow the average Joe to lay waste to Hitler’s war machine on three fronts, memories of the forces that once held the world in fear and lay waste to a whole generation of Europeans no longer hold the gravity they once did. This is not a bad thing. Yet, even if we won the war in almost every sense of the word we have to acknowledge that even more than sixty years after the demise of the Third Reich we have maintained a morbid curiosity with the images and objects related to “that thousand-year empire.” From biker helmets that resemble those worn by Wermacht troopers to the image of goose-stepping columns of loyal, automaton “storm troopers” in cult sensations like “Star Wars” and campy videogames like “Wolfenstein”, the prevalent reminders of the hated regime stand in stark contrast to our supposed revulsion of it. There is a reason that famed philosopher and social critic, Susan Sontag, garnered a lot of attention for her essay on the subject, titled “Fascinating Fascism.”
Even as we kill the Nazi hordes in games or laugh at them on Broadway, one wonders at the fact that the image of the “Nazi horde” itself was largely concocted by the Nazis themselves as a propaganda tool. If everything about National Socialism was a lie, that lie has been kept alive by our collective willingness to believe that the black & white images of soldiers on the march, and flag-waving, dark-suited “ubermensch” represented a reality (and one that caused real panic to those watching the images in the states around the late 1930’s). It was the ability of the German filmmakers to capture these images of staged rallies and politicking by various leaders and transform them into “truth” which makes “Triumph of the Will”, a “documentary” detailing the Nazi party’s 1934 Nuremburg rally and the film largely seen as most directly responsible for creating the Nazi aesthetic, relevant even today.
The film, directed by Leni Riefenstahl, is still considered the greatest piece of propaganda ever produced and has led to no end of debate between academics and documentary filmmakers about the director’s responsibility in making a film that so successfully casts Hitler as a fearsome god and the Nazi regime as an unstoppable united force. The film also leaves open the question of whether one is watching a documentary, which is how Riefenstahl would spend the rest of her life defending the piece, simply recording the truth of the moment or whether the whole event was merely smoke and mirrors meant to present the German population and the outside world with an image of the regime that was far from the reality. Anyone who thinks we don’t live in a world where politicians and other power-holders continue to utilize documentary-style filmmaking and spectacle to advance their cause need only look back to the recent election and the coverage afforded to the Democratic and Republican National Conventions to realize what began with films like “Triumph” continues to try and effect our lives and culture even today.
The film opens with a shot of an eagle plaque on which a swastika is embedded. The bird, a potent symbol of German romanticism, was the ubiquitous figure of the German fascist state. Following a track of titles evoking the historical background of the rally the first scene opens in full. The proud eagle fades to shots of Hitler’s plane soaring through the clouds. The plane’s continued flight takes it over the streets of Nuremburg, already teeming with party followers. The shadow of the plane passes over columns of the faithful. The implicit association of the eagle with Hitler hints that the latter has assumed the mythic power and strength of the beloved bird. Richard Barsam noted, “…in a matter of minutes Riefenstahl has conveyed the solitary power, the isolated strength, and the mystery of the Nazi party and its leader.” After Hitler disembarks from the plane he continues his travels in a motorcade ride through the city of Nuremburg to his hotel room. Although the same scene, the imagery and techniques used in Hitler’s car ride introduce new themes in the film. Throngs of followers reach out and salute. Riefenstahl’s dynamic use of moving cameras that kept pace with the motorcade serve to quell the traditional boredom associated with the static image of the newsreel and generate in the audience the same energy and enthusiasm displayed by the party leadership at the rally. Hitler is also almost always shown from a low angle, emphasizing his status as the leader and titan of Germany. The shots cut between Hitler lording over his people and troops, to shots of the uniformed soldiers holding back the throngs of ardent supporters. Though the shots of the soldiers are up-close—the audience sees belt buckles, boots, and glimpses of faces—the rapid pace of the shots interwoven with the moving image of the towering Hitler serves to, as Barsam again put it, “develop another source of the Fuhrer’s power, not in the cheering crowds of ordinary citizens, but in the regimented ranks of his soldiers”. Even as early as the first scene, the imagery and camera work of Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph engender an image of Hitler as the synthesis of the mythical ideal and as the powerful commandant of scores of German fighters.
Despite Riefenstahl’s heated defense of her work as a pure, cinema verite style documentary, research into the actual events at the rally and those depicted on screen prove that the filmic vision of reality was meticulously modified. The fourth scene, seemingly Riefenstahl’s moment to put her editing tools away and simply let the gaggle of party speakers have their time at the podium, is rife with very particular cuts, nonetheless. Each leader only gives a momentary sentence or two, and they are all uncompromisingly bland and general. The talk is overwhelmingly of the peace and prosperity afforded to the German people since the Nazi domination of the state. Though a master editor, Riefenstahl cannot hide the fact that the speeches, including Hitler’s message, have been severely cut. Though boring, Riefenstahl realized that by making the speeches plain the members of the audience would more readily accept what was appearing before them.
The speeches are also noteworthy in that Riefenstahl has edited them to appear as if they all took place at the same place and time, when in reality some of the speeches were not given until days following the next scenes. A similar moment of chronological subterfuge is the early scene with the throngs of fascists waking in their tent city. Though the tent city scenes of boyhood frolic and preparation appear in the film to have occurred after the first night of the rally, the appearance of the Hitler Youth, who did not actually show up until several days into the festivities, proves that the order of the events was fabricated in Riefenstahl’s editing suite. This reshuffling of events acts to satisfy Riefenstahl’s desire to make a satisfying movie experience rather than settle for the disjointed reality of events that might confuse the audience or not satisfy the standard desire for a clear beginning, middle, and end.
From speech to hotel terrace, Riefenstahl was also complicit in the creation of images that deified Hitler and made him appear to be the strong and beloved choice of the party. Hitler’s actual relatively low height and poor public-speaking skills are shunt aside by the loving gaze of the camera. The leader dominates the screen, with the camera forced to move around him. His speeches are stripped to the bone, but it is not his speaking abilities that lend him his filmic presence. The flag ceremony and Hitler’s speech to the Labor Corps juxtaposes the image of Hitler, his visage encompassing the camera, which dynamically dollies around him, with that of throngs of cheering and ecstatic admirers. The content of his speech is unimportant, as the sheer reaction of the spectators and their joint declaration of loyalty lends itself to Hitler’s touted skills as a public speaker. Barsam, calling out the discrepancies between the actual, short, uninspiring speaker and the imposing leader of hundreds of thousands in Triumph, wrote that this use of imagery “betrays an overall weakness in Riefenstahl’s vision: the discernable gap between historical reality and cinematic illusion.”
Riefenstahl may not have been a die-hard supporter of Germany’s new masters, but she is nonetheless guilty of producing a film that purposely bent the truth to fit Nazi ideals. Perhaps even more disturbing is the notion that in today’s world of multi-party democracy, the titans of “spin” (as it is now politely referred) continue to employ these techniques in disseminating their messages to the public. When the president or any political figure stands up to speak we would like to think that he is naked before the camera. Yet these images are very carefully controlled, from the material on his desk (if he is sitting at his desk) to the camera angle. Followers of the recent spate of political “documentaries” following in the wake of Michael Moore’s own piece of propaganda, “Fahrenheit 9/11”, should also come to appreciate Riefenstahl’s artistic flair and competence as a filmmaker given how much more polished and successful this 1934 creation is than anything to recently hit the DVD shelves (including Moore’s vitriolic work). If for no other reason, viewers should respect Riefenstahl’s creation for its ability to create its own sense of truth and learn from it the lesson that the camera never just exposes what lies in front of the lens.
Written by: Alexander Rogers
Reviewers Rating: 9
Reader's Rating: 5.50
Reader's Votes: 2
Added: 22-Apr-2006
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