In light of the terrible events that would follow over the next decade, Leni Riefenstahl's propagandistic masterpiece becomes almost impossible to analyse in a completely objective way. We all know what is to follow, we all know that most of the smiling youth on display here would be dead within ten years, that the madman they hail as a saviour would lead them down a path of destruction, and that their collective madness would become a generation's shame. So watching this film is like watching someone fitting a noose around their neck in preparation of kicking away the stool on which they stand: you don't really want to watch but you are compelled to by an awful fascination with the events unfolding in front of you.
The film opens with shots of clouds, followed by Hitler's plane descending like a chariot of the Gods over Nuremburg. Make no mistake about it, despite Riefenstahl's insistence that she wasn't making a propaganda piece, this film is as much about the deification of Hitler in the eyes of the German people as it is about the admirable economic progress of the nation. When he is not seen surrounded by admiring hordes he is filmed from a low angle so that he dominates the screen, or is seen looking down upon his thuggish cohorts. The very things Riefenstahl captured to signify the advancement of the German race now serve as a chilling indictment of all that was wrong with the country which was so devastated by the aftermath of the last war that it was desperate for a strong leader to give them back some national pride and hope. Small children raise their right arms in salute to the Fuhrer; young men gaze in plain and simple awe of the man; crowds cheer and wave and crane their necks for a glimpse of him as he passes. The regimented ranks that receive his keynote speech make a terrifyingly awesome spectacle, as does the huge mass of Swastika flags that fill the screen as another battalion of acolytes make their way along the central thoroughfare. The Swastika is everywhere while the German flag is barely glimpsed at all.
Oddly enough, many of the speeches delivered by various ministers are no different from the self-serving declarations of successes and ambitions touted by modern-day politicians at party conferences they are just delivered in that strident fanatical manner exclusive to the executive of the Third Reich. Only when the odious Julius Streicher appears on stage to rant about the need for the racial purity of their nation does the comparison fall apart and his speech serves as an indication of the dark undercurrents at work beneath the successful rebuilding of a defeated nation.
Triumph of the Will is a brilliantly filmed - and staged - film that serves as a warning from the past now, where once it stood as a celebration of the future and tribute to a man a nation mistakenly believed to be their saviour. It works much better as the former than it ever could have as the latter, and should be required viewing for all history classes.
The film opens with shots of clouds, followed by Hitler's plane descending like a chariot of the Gods over Nuremburg. Make no mistake about it, despite Riefenstahl's insistence that she wasn't making a propaganda piece, this film is as much about the deification of Hitler in the eyes of the German people as it is about the admirable economic progress of the nation. When he is not seen surrounded by admiring hordes he is filmed from a low angle so that he dominates the screen, or is seen looking down upon his thuggish cohorts. The very things Riefenstahl captured to signify the advancement of the German race now serve as a chilling indictment of all that was wrong with the country which was so devastated by the aftermath of the last war that it was desperate for a strong leader to give them back some national pride and hope. Small children raise their right arms in salute to the Fuhrer; young men gaze in plain and simple awe of the man; crowds cheer and wave and crane their necks for a glimpse of him as he passes. The regimented ranks that receive his keynote speech make a terrifyingly awesome spectacle, as does the huge mass of Swastika flags that fill the screen as another battalion of acolytes make their way along the central thoroughfare. The Swastika is everywhere while the German flag is barely glimpsed at all.
Oddly enough, many of the speeches delivered by various ministers are no different from the self-serving declarations of successes and ambitions touted by modern-day politicians at party conferences they are just delivered in that strident fanatical manner exclusive to the executive of the Third Reich. Only when the odious Julius Streicher appears on stage to rant about the need for the racial purity of their nation does the comparison fall apart and his speech serves as an indication of the dark undercurrents at work beneath the successful rebuilding of a defeated nation.
Triumph of the Will is a brilliantly filmed - and staged - film that serves as a warning from the past now, where once it stood as a celebration of the future and tribute to a man a nation mistakenly believed to be their saviour. It works much better as the former than it ever could have as the latter, and should be required viewing for all history classes.