Olympia (1938) **

There is no doubt that director/producer Leni Riefenstahl was a tool of Hitler’s Nazi regime.  Yet, that does not negate the fact that her two-part documentary of the 1936 Olympic games held in Berlin, Germany, Olympia, “Festival of the Nations” and “Festival of Beauty” (1938), is a monumental cinematic spectacle.  She employed technical elements never seen before—extreme close-ups, tracking shots, and highly inventive camera angles—which were later used by the likes of Orson Welles and Carol Reed. That said, the overall tone of the film is still hindered by Nazi propaganda and racism. 

Part One, “Festival of the Nations”, opens rather ostentatiously, with Riefenstahl directly comparing German athletes to Greek gods.  This lends itself to the idea of the superiority of the Aryan race, so this isn’t a good way to endear your movie to viewers familiar with the vile tenets of Nazism and Hitler’s Mein Kampf. And, I suspect the all-but-naked (and in some cases, really naked) human specimens were a bit racy for 1938.  Anyway, unlike the last few Olympics, with their 10-hour opening ceremonies, Olympia just has a parade of nations.  Still, from a historical perspective the viewer gains keen insight into which countries were allies (or unwilling ones, too) of Hitler in 1936 by whether they give the Nazi salute or not. Thankfully, the American athletes do not.

After the mini-geopolitical lesson has commenced, we then move to the track and field games.  Again, even though it would have been much better if at least one of the 100,000 spectators in the stadium had aimed a bullet Hitler’s way and saved countless lives, the film is of historical importance because we get to see one of the greatest athletes ever, Jesse Owens, dominate every event he participated in by winning four gold medals.  Racial superiority took a slap in the face when that Ohio State Buckeye visited Berlin.  I watched the German version, so it was easy to tell when the announcer was miffed that both Germans and the entire white race kept losing to a black man. 

Anyway, all blatant bias aside, Riefenstahl and her crew of hundreds do an excellent job of capturing the athletic prowess of the track and field competitors.  Watching in slow motion bodies contort in feats of strength and speed allows one to gain an appreciation of just how much skill goes into being a top-tier athlete.  My one complaint, which really shouldn’t be one since she was doing revolutionary things, is that I can hear the ticking of the film spool/speed whenever the camera slows down.

Part Two, “Festival of Beauty” oddly enough starts with naked German men in a bath house scrubbing each other’s backs and laying back in ecstasy as the steam washes over them. For such a homophobic nation, this seems like a less than Nazi way to begin the second part of your documentary.  That said, this section of the film focuses on gymnastics, regatta, swimming, diving, and military sport—although the Pentathlon makes its way into this, too. Why it wasn’t in the first part with the other track and field events is a mystery to me. 

While it focuses more on the aesthetic effects of sport, “Festival of Beauty” is also a showcase of athleticism.  I could have done without the Eventing section, with horses being hurtled over extremely perilous ravines and obstacles.  With each passing fall and unseating of uniformed rider, I became convinced that at any moment one of the officers was going to whip out a pistol and put down a horse.  However, in complete opposite of this inhumane brutality, was the diving section of the film.  This is a thing of beauty to watch, as Riefenstahl made the divers appear as though they were flying through the air.

Overall, Olympia is probably the greatest documentary about the Olympic games ever made.  It is unfortunate that there has to be an undercurrent of Nazism and racism running throughout it, though.  And while it is a visual treat, its 3+ hour runtime can be daunting to the casual sports enthusiast. 

Triumph of the Will (Triumph Des Willens) 1934 **

This 1934 “documentary” of the sixth Nazi Party Congress at Nuremberg by director Leni Riefenstahl is considered by many to be the most important propaganda film ever made. The director, who at one time had been a somewhat popular actress, was commissioned by the Fuhrer himself, Adolf Hitler, to film countless hours of Nazi glorification and then produce a film that would show both Germans and the world the greatness of the Nazi Party. It is both a visually stunning film and a troubling reminder of the dangers of hero-worship—especially when said “hero” was a raving racist who wanted to “cleanse” the world of undesirables and mongrels.

The film opens with the “hero” of our film riding through the clouds as Wagner’s “Die Meistersinger von Numberg” plays in the background. This image is no doubt harkening back to the glories of Valhalla and is Riefenstahl’s attempt to anoint Hitler the Messiah of the German people. One might ask here why she chose Wagner over Handel—Hitler had a penchant for loud and ostentatious German composers, such as Wagner (Hitler’s all-time fave). Whereas Handel’s more refined, and oh my goodness, Old Testament-based compositions were a tad out of line with the Nazi hatred of anything Jewish. And so this is the image the viewer is dealt from the beginning. The rest of the film is a “celebration” of the “greatness” of the Nazi Party and the adulation of its Fuhrer (which means in German, leader).

I am often shocked how few of my students know that Hitler was asked to become Chancellor of Germany in 1933. He didn’t take power or lead some grand revolution. In reality, the money people in Germany saw in him a man that could capture the interest of the people and a man that they could control—they were wrong about controlling him, but absolutely right about his power to transfix the nation. And this is what Riefenstahl focuses on: Hitler’s almost Svengali power over his people.

Literally hundreds of thousands of people are filmed by Riefenstahl adoring and saluting their leader with their echoing “Sieg Heil". Every type of German is captured here: the soldier, the worker, and most importantly to me, the young--because they are the future of the nation and to watch their unwavering adoration of such a monster is something that you never forget. Did those so young and impressionable young minds really stop loving their Fuhrer when he killed himself in May 1945 or when the Allies put them through denazification training? Just a question that I ponder every time I teach this time period in my classes…

As for the merits of the film, though it is difficult to admit, there are some. Riefenstahl had a gift for creating masterfully designed images. Once seen, no one can forget the overhead shots of the enormous crowds and marching soldiers at the rally. There is some sort of sinister symmetry to these images—like she has captured the most-ordered society known to man, but at the same time the viewer knows that the world is headed for utter disorder. I suppose watching these images that many can’t help but have mental juxtapositions of the reality Riefenstahl was trying to create against what we now know was nothing more than a monstrous mythmaking endeavor. You pair these masterful shots with extremely adept rapid editing and you have a piece of pure propagandist art.

It is too bad that a woman with such an artistic eye fell under the influences of such evil people.  When the war was over Riefenstahl found herself the guest of Allied prisons for four years and saw a once promising career as a director ruined. It should be noted that she vehemently claimed that her work was an example of cinema vertie and served as a historical record of the times.  Perhaps if she hadn’t used concentration camp prisoners as “extras” or been such a force in the Goebbels’ propaganda machine people would have been more apt to believe her.