[Did a version of this for my column in Business Standard Weekend]
Picture a documentary film that begins by extolling a great leader as a saviour for his war-ravaged nation, and announcing that he is “flying to meet and encourage his faithful followers”. The stately grandeur of the visuals and the language, and the dramatic music score, make it seem like an Olympian God is about to descend among his people, and this is amplified by the long sequence that follows – beautiful black-and-white footage of clouds seen from inside a small airplane. The effect is that of being placed, with the leader, in a celestial realm.
As the plane begins its descent, we see aerial shots, then close-ups, of a grand old city, full of towers and spires. It’s like something out of a medieval picture-book, and we feel a thrill; so this is the place that the Godlike being is presiding over. (An Indian viewer might well think of Vishnu's mount Garuda, or the Pushpak Vimana, during the remarkable shot of the plane's shadow seen moving in a straight line across a network of roads.)
At the airstrip, people cheer as the deity alights. Driven through the city in a cavalcade, he waves at his high-spirited subjects; there are close-ups of smiling, golden-haired children, the sun on their faces; a mother carrying her child hands him a bouquet. The sense of hope and bonhomie is tangible; as a viewer, it’s difficult not to be seduced by it.
But the year is 1934, the place is Nuremberg, Germany, and the leader is Adolf Hitler, who is promising a glorious future to a country that was devastated by the first World War. With the benefit of hindsight, we know what repercussions that march towards “glory” will have for Europe and the world.
Watching just the opening 10 minutes of Leni Riefenstahl’s great propaganda film Triumph of the Will, it’s easy to see why, 75 years after its release, this is still one of the most controversial movies ever made. It was authorised by Hitler himself (he wanted a filmed record of the Nuremberg rallies to inspire patriotism in his people) and the opening credits begin with the proud line “Commissioned by Order of the Fuhrer”. Discussing the project with Riefenstahl, he told her that he wanted an “artistically satisfying” perspective rather than a drab political document. He wanted the man on the street to be stirred by pure film.
The result is something that is part-documentary, part myth-making, and capable of creating some very uncomfortable responses in a viewer today. It’s a credit to Riefenstahl’s filmmaking skill that she turned Hitler into a living legend so effectively. But what were the moral ramifications? What role did this very successful film play in making Nazism attractive?
These are questions that continue to be asked, and they tie in to larger ideas about the relationship between art and morality. So powerful is the imagery of Triumph of the Will that even those of us who associate the Nazi swastika with something irredeemably ugly can, briefly at least, understand the patriotism inspired by the symbol - and the promises that came with it - at a very specific point in the country’s history. The many shots of the swastika on banners and flags are typical of the film’s contemplative style - Triumph of the Will is full of languid shots that don’t seem very relevant to a work of propaganda: city streets and vistas, people going about their work, even a cat watching a procession from a balcony, and of course those clouds in the opening scene. But this only heightens the build-up to the rallies, where Hitler and other Nazi leaders make fiery nationalist speeches.
It would be comforting to think that this film is now harmless from an ideological point of view, but I was taken aback during a recent conversation at a book event with a young man – one of many in this country who seem bizarrely obsessed with Hitler’s Mein Kampf. “Wasn’t there a famous documentary about Hitler by a woman director?” he asked, “I’d love to see it – the guy was so charismatic, such a leader!”
If he does get around to seeing Riefenstahl’s film, he’ll probably become a card-carrying neo-Nazi. Or at least a regular commenter on Rediff.com messageboards. Perhaps I should email him this video of the globe-bouncing scene from The Great Dictator, just to balance things out.
Picture a documentary film that begins by extolling a great leader as a saviour for his war-ravaged nation, and announcing that he is “flying to meet and encourage his faithful followers”. The stately grandeur of the visuals and the language, and the dramatic music score, make it seem like an Olympian God is about to descend among his people, and this is amplified by the long sequence that follows – beautiful black-and-white footage of clouds seen from inside a small airplane. The effect is that of being placed, with the leader, in a celestial realm.
As the plane begins its descent, we see aerial shots, then close-ups, of a grand old city, full of towers and spires. It’s like something out of a medieval picture-book, and we feel a thrill; so this is the place that the Godlike being is presiding over. (An Indian viewer might well think of Vishnu's mount Garuda, or the Pushpak Vimana, during the remarkable shot of the plane's shadow seen moving in a straight line across a network of roads.)
At the airstrip, people cheer as the deity alights. Driven through the city in a cavalcade, he waves at his high-spirited subjects; there are close-ups of smiling, golden-haired children, the sun on their faces; a mother carrying her child hands him a bouquet. The sense of hope and bonhomie is tangible; as a viewer, it’s difficult not to be seduced by it.
But the year is 1934, the place is Nuremberg, Germany, and the leader is Adolf Hitler, who is promising a glorious future to a country that was devastated by the first World War. With the benefit of hindsight, we know what repercussions that march towards “glory” will have for Europe and the world.Watching just the opening 10 minutes of Leni Riefenstahl’s great propaganda film Triumph of the Will, it’s easy to see why, 75 years after its release, this is still one of the most controversial movies ever made. It was authorised by Hitler himself (he wanted a filmed record of the Nuremberg rallies to inspire patriotism in his people) and the opening credits begin with the proud line “Commissioned by Order of the Fuhrer”. Discussing the project with Riefenstahl, he told her that he wanted an “artistically satisfying” perspective rather than a drab political document. He wanted the man on the street to be stirred by pure film.
The result is something that is part-documentary, part myth-making, and capable of creating some very uncomfortable responses in a viewer today. It’s a credit to Riefenstahl’s filmmaking skill that she turned Hitler into a living legend so effectively. But what were the moral ramifications? What role did this very successful film play in making Nazism attractive?
These are questions that continue to be asked, and they tie in to larger ideas about the relationship between art and morality. So powerful is the imagery of Triumph of the Will that even those of us who associate the Nazi swastika with something irredeemably ugly can, briefly at least, understand the patriotism inspired by the symbol - and the promises that came with it - at a very specific point in the country’s history. The many shots of the swastika on banners and flags are typical of the film’s contemplative style - Triumph of the Will is full of languid shots that don’t seem very relevant to a work of propaganda: city streets and vistas, people going about their work, even a cat watching a procession from a balcony, and of course those clouds in the opening scene. But this only heightens the build-up to the rallies, where Hitler and other Nazi leaders make fiery nationalist speeches.
It would be comforting to think that this film is now harmless from an ideological point of view, but I was taken aback during a recent conversation at a book event with a young man – one of many in this country who seem bizarrely obsessed with Hitler’s Mein Kampf. “Wasn’t there a famous documentary about Hitler by a woman director?” he asked, “I’d love to see it – the guy was so charismatic, such a leader!”
If he does get around to seeing Riefenstahl’s film, he’ll probably become a card-carrying neo-Nazi. Or at least a regular commenter on Rediff.com messageboards. Perhaps I should email him this video of the globe-bouncing scene from The Great Dictator, just to balance things out.
I ought to see this sometime soon.
ReplyDeleteone of many in this country who seem bizarrely obsessed with Hitler’s Mein Kampf
I'd wager a bet that atleast among people of my generation, Mein Kampf is more widely read than Gandhi's Autobiography! Though the latter book is far better written and easier to relate to.
So powerful is the imagery of Triumph of the Will that even those of us who associate the Nazi swastika with something irredeemably ugly can, briefly at least, understand the patriotism inspired by the symbol - and the promises that came with it
I think a lot depends on the cultural sensibility of the audience. A film that might work wonders with an impassioned German audience might leave a Scandinavian audience thoroughly unmoved.
It's interesting that even at the height of the World War, it is hard to recall propaganda films from the English speaking world that profess a single-minded hatred for the enemy. There are several films that lampoon Hitler, but always with restraint and without spite. The restraint is largely reflective of the virtues of Anglo Saxon culture that has traditionally downplayed parochial tendencies.
Which is why that even the most commercial of British and American movies are seldom overly simplistic and always tinged with a sense of moral ambivalence.
Take for instance a movie like The Bicycle Thief, which is a fairly unambiguous in siding with the little guy and empathising with the circumstances that lead him to crime.
ReplyDeleteI cannot possibly imagine that film being made in America or Britain. Audiences in these countries are less likely to be carried away by the evocative power of neorealism. They will instead ask the question - why doesn't the guy move on with his life and look for a job that doesn't require a bicycle!
And the amusing fact is that a majority of the people who have a copy of 'Mein Kempf' are generally the people who seldom reads. Then they go out and buy this book.
ReplyDeleteOne explanation is that most of these urban, politically conscious, people are BJP supporters and their inspirational figures (Savarakar etc) were not fully turned off by Hitler's ideology. So it's not a completely odd thing to like or read.
...a majority of the people who have a copy of 'Mein Kempf' are generally the people who seldom read
ReplyDeleteIndophile: I've had separate encounters with at least three kids who proudly announced that Mein Kampf was their favourite book, then looked me straight in the eye with a defiant stance as if anticipating that I was going to disapprove on ideological grounds...and then looked fairly clueless when I tried to talk about it in literary terms. It was quite obvious none of them had actually read more than a few pages, or stray sentences (and who can blame then - it's such a tedious book).
I've heard the theory that the book appeals to/is recommended to management students because its author showed such exemplary "leadership qualities" and because of the way he went about realising his vision. It probably gives some of these kids a big thrill to drop the name of a book with a foreign (but still pronounceable) title. I also know many young Indians with a half-baked knowledge of history, who appear to have "realised" that the Nazi regime was (directly or indirectly) responsible for India gaining independence. In any case, most of these kids are quite dissociated from the actual horrors of the Holocaust.
Shrikanth: the last time I went to the Saket Crossword, there was an enormous pile of copies of Mein Kampf right in the middle of the store, overshadowing all the new releases and contemporary bestsellers.
ReplyDeleteHi Jai! little off the route, but are you coming to Mumbai for the MAMI film festival next month?
ReplyDelete