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Leni Riefenstahl's Feature Films and the Question
of a Fascist Aesthetic
Linda Schulte-Sasse
123
124 Linda Schulte-Sasse
The Blue Light, the first film that Riefenstahl ever directed,
closely adheres to the "mountain" film genre in which she had
Leni Riefenstahl's Feature Films 127
imaginary in the film is the metaphor of the blue light that can
never be captured, i.e., made real within modernity, but can only
be destroyed bymodernity. Underlying the light metaphor are two
allusions that support the interpretation of the film as a modern
text. It can be read first as a demonic natural force reminiscent of
the Tannhduserlegend, in which young men are lured to their
deaths in the Venusberg. For the villagers, Junta is nothing less
than a demonic and destructive Venus whose eroticism threatens
their social order; the innkeeper can be likened to a kind of
Eckhart figure attempting to protect his offspring from the lure
of dissolution (Entgrenzung).Just as Eichendorff's Marmorbildcon-
trasts Venus with the madonna-like Bianca, Riefenstahl's editing
frequently juxtaposes Junta with Lucia, a young woman who rep-
resents domesticity and containment of eroticism, suggested by
the contrast between the head scarf that tightly binds her hair and
Junta's free-flowing hair. Yet the demonization of Junta is re-
stricted to the point of view of the villagers (i.e., society), and the
film's exposition strongly aligns the spectator with Junta as the
victim of an internally repressed people constantly shown closing
windows to shut out the light of the full moon, and thus the
danger of eroticism or the dissolution of boundaries. The scene in
which Junta is conspicuously left outside while the villagers enter
the fortifying vessel of the massive town church illustrates how the
community's Christian bonding serves to ostracize those outside
the social order.
Second, the blue light, with its obvious allusion to Novalis's
blue flower, represents a general romantic longing, or Sehnsucht,
linked to woman.'l This Sehnsuchtsprings from an awareness of
lack, creating a desire that eludes fulfillment and in being
"mined," to borrow Rentschler's term, is destroyed. The film dis-
places Junta, as object of desire, to the space of representation,
and thus upholds the gap between the real and the imaginary
Other that is constitutive of the modern. As discursive phenome-
na, Junta and the blue light remain a focal point of nostalgia
standing in for a fulfillment, for a presence that can never be
achieved. The romantic motif of language within the film aug-
ments Junta's inaccessibility. She understands the signs of nature,
recoiling from Vigo after "reading" an apparent message in a
crystal, but fails to comprehend Vigo's language, just as she utterly
Leni Riefenstahl's Feature Films 131
with his bare hands. He sees the Gypsy girl Martha (Leni
Riefenstahl) dancing in the tavern of Roccabruna and falls in love
with her. Marquis Don Sebastian (Bernhard Minetti) also sees
Martha and proceeds to make her his mistress. Don Sebastian is
hated in the entire region for his exploitation of the peasants,
whose water source he has rechanneled to supply the cattle he
raises. He also has large debts with the mayor and is thus forced to
marry the wealthy mayor's daughter. In order to keep Martha at
his disposal, he marries her to Pedro. When in the night of both
marriages Don Sebastian comes to be with Martha, Pedro kills him
exactly as he had killed the wolf. Pedro and Martha return to the
mountains.
As a means of contrasting the structure of Tiefland with that
of The Blue Light, I would like to draw upon Jurgen Link's analysis
of what he calls "the social psychological drama." This genre,
which dates back to the mid-eighteenth century and includes both
popular narratives and "high" art, is constituted by varying rela-
tionships between two central factors: social class and "natural
human qualities" (121-55).12 Link conceptualizes these two fac-
tors as axes on a matrix, with each character in a given drama
located somewhere on the matrix according to his or her specific
combination of class and character: "aristocracy and evil," "bour-
geoisie and virtue," etc. He analyzes how in later forms of the
social psychological drama the ever increasing dominance of the
"natural human" axis at the expense of the social axis coupled
with the simplification of the former to a basic plus/minus "heart"
scheme has led to a devolution of the genre to kitsch, which fulfills
a socially affirmative function in its avoidance of social contradic-
tions. In other words, modern popular narratives tend increasing-
ly to define their characters simply as "good" or "heartless," ne-
glecting the complicating relations between character and social
class addressed by a Schiller or a Lessing.
Tiefland can likewise easily be conceptualized in terms of the
axes of social class versus "natural human qualities," betraying an
indebtedness to the paradigm of the bourgeois tragedy and its
historical descendents in popular literature. The relationships in
Tiefland illustrate how the film reproduces a configuration dating
back to the bourgeois tragedy, albeit in reductive, sentimentalized
form. The predictable inverse relationship between possession of
Leni Riefenstahl's Feature Films 133
ceases only when Don Sebastian enters, closes the door, thus shut-
ting Pedro literally and figuratively "out of the picture," and ap-
propriates Martha with his masterful gaze. The scene encapsu-
lates the narrative's central events, when Pedro hands over the
wolf's skin to Don Sebastian to obtain a "reward," and when Mar-
tha feverishly shoves away a spectator who lunges toward her. But
most importantly, it establishes Martha/Riefenstahl as the con-
summate representation of desire, as much through reaction
shots of dazzled men as through her Carmen-like erotic presence.
One could scarcely find in film history a more typical exam-
ple of the paradigm that Laura Mulvey put forth in 1975, in which
the woman acts "as object of the combined gaze of spectator and
all the male protagonists in the film . .. isolated, glamorous, on
display, sexualized" (13). Leni Riefenstahl was in the unusual posi-
tion in film history of playing a dual role as both object of the gaze
and controlling eye behind it.17 Yet, particularly from a feminist
vantage point, it is tempting to overstress the notion of a conscious
decision behind Riefenstahl's self-fetishization, as I believe Ruby
Rich does when she states that Riefenstahl "was granted 'permis-
sion' by the patriarchy to be privileged in its power in exchangefor
adopting its values" (208, my emphasis). It seems to me that Rich
underestimates a possible slippage between the roles of object and
controller, and the fact that the enunciating agency in a film is not
totally identifiable with (or controlled by) the director or writer,
but is located in a larger ideological apparatus.18 Moreover, pre-
cisely those readings delineating the affinities of Riefenstahl's ear-
ly and late work to fascist aesthetics imply that she had "adopted"
such values well before Hitler seized power. I am suggesting
that-her opportunism notwithstanding-Leni Riefenstahl's proj-
ect may not have been deliberate complicity with the patriarchy
"in exchange" for privilege, but that an internalized acceptance of
woman's role as object permitted her narcissistically to enjoy
fetishizing her own body. John Berger has discussed the split
self engendered in women by Western culture as comprising a
"female" side that is surveyed by others (analogous to Mulvey's
object of the male gaze) and a "male" side that constantly surveys
the self being surveyed (analogous to the male looker [45-47])-
yet only with the help of relatively recent feminist analysis has the
complicitous function of these contradictory roles been articu-
Leni Riefenstahl's Feature Films 139
the Will (Triumph des Willens, 1935) with its (in)famous opening
scene rendering Hitler a celestial and all-pervasive presence emer-
ging from the clouds is indeed a logical one. The crucial differ-
ence is that Triumphof the Will clearly does transgress the bound-
aries of the imaginary, merging the political and the aesthetic, and
permitting the individuals attending the rally and those reliving it
through the technological apparatus the experience of a collective
decentering (Entgrenzung). National Socialism would, of course,
have been unthinkable without all the genres, movements, and
images from which it borrowed; it builds on a foundation of
modernism and uses nostalgia to "colonize the fantasy life"
(Rentschler) of its constituency. But it goes beyond this by trying to
introduce the imaginary into the public sphere, by conflating the
imaginary with modern reality, as Riefenstahl's narrative films-
even The Blue Light-do not. To be sure, TheBlue Light exhibits, as
Rentschler points out, the "kitsch of death," which Saul Fried-
lander considers the bedrock of Nazi aesthetics.20 Yet the "kitsch
of death," while indeed a favorite topos and image in Nazi films,
derives from other movements stressing the search for decenter-
ing experiences, such as European aestheticism. Examples of a
"kitsch of death" predating Nazism are Heinrich Mann's Gittinnen
(1903), whose protagonist, Violante d'Assy, dies in a state of intox-
ication (Rausch) having become a work of art, or the popular
nineteenth-century icon of the dead girl from the Seine. Again,
National Socialism turns the "kitsch of death" experience into
something real, inspiring and organizing people to march intoxi-
cated to their own deaths; it dissolves the distinction between the
imaginary and the real, translating the mass ornament into a mass
event. Whereas traditionally the instrumental is opposed to de-
centering experiences, it is here that I see the category of the
instrumental as crucial: the mass experience of intoxication can
only be orchestrated with careful planning. The transgression of
the separate realm of the aesthetic, or, more precisely, the intro-
duction of the aesthetic into reality, requires an actual mediation
of the instrumental and decentering experiences in a new mode
of the political.
I would like to return to the questions I posed at the outset
regarding the degree to which a structural definition of a fascist
Leni Riefenstahl's Feature Films 143
its concluding exhortation, "keep our race pure." Steve Neale has
suggested how the exhortation breaks the boundaries of classical
narrative closure and connects the imaginary with the world of
the spectator: "[I]t aligns the subject as in a position of struggle
vis-a-vis certain of the discourses and practices that have been
signified within the text, and signified in such a way as to mark
them as existing outside and beyond it" (31). I believe Neale's
definition of propaganda can be linked with the Benjaminian
analysis of how fascism erases boundaries, in that it posits as fun-
damental to the propagandist text the attempt to rupture textual
boundaries, in contrast to the classical realist text, which marks
closure as closure and demarcates "a definite space and distance
between the text and the discourses and practices around it.
[Propaganda] is ... a continual process of marking the discourses
and practices signified within the text as existing outside it, and as
existing outside it in conflict" (31).
The second "automatic" question was whether the term fas-
cist, if understood in a structural sense, can be extended to in-
clude contemporary phenomena that blur the distinction between
reality and the imaginary. Such an application is to be sure prob-
lematic, given the inflationary and hence trivializing manner in
which the term has been wielded, particularly in the sixties and
seventies. Again, let me stress that National Socialism represented
the intersection of far too many historical, economic, social, and
psychological factors to permit a simplistic analogy with any other
historical conjuncture. Nevertheless, it is worth considering struc-
tural similarities between National Socialism's attempt to aestheti-
cize political life and the tendencies in a wide range of discourses
in contemporary societies today to generate a sense of public eu-
phoria and well-being, usually through images and sounds pro-
duced by the electronic media. Just as in Triumphof the Will "real-
ity" was staged for the purpose of spectacle, current political acts
are likewise staged for aesthetic reproduction, with the difference
that today's political spectacles can be conveyed instantaneously.23
This increasing dependency on spectacle and imaginary dissolu-
tion extends from political imagery and televised news to com-
mercials, televised religion, sports events, rock concerts, and mu-
sic videos. It works to undermine reasonable debate and foster an
intermittent state of anesthesia, or what Brecht called "sleepwalk-
Leni Riefenstahl'sFeature Films 145
Let'sobserve above all the way he acts while delivering his big
speeches that prepare or justify his slaughters. You under-
stand, we have to observe him at that point where he wants to
make the public feel with him and say: yes, we would have
done the same thing! In short: where he appears as a human
being and wants to convince the public that his actions are
simply human and reasonable, and thus to give him their
blessing. That is very interesting theater! (563)
Notes
and also suggests a kind of recreational sexuality, calling to mind the sexual
romping of Freder and a playmate around a similar fountain in Fritz Lang's
Metropolis (1927).
15. Indeed, Don Sebastian's obsession with the steers reveals a "sick" egotism
(riddled with erotic implications), since his financial destitution is at least in part a
result of his failure to permit his serfs the use of water on his drought-stricken
farmlands, which would enable them to pay their dues. He puts the peasants in a
classic double-bind situation: threatening to drive them off the land if they fail to
pay their dues, and withholding the means with which they could do so.
16. To be sure, Junta's gesture of throwing a half-eaten apple at Vigo's feet is a
narrative act suggesting the conscious adoption of a role as Eve-like temptress.
17. Perhaps for this reason Riefenstahl has been no less fetishized by some
critics than by the camera. Cf., for example, Infield's description of her attend-
ing the premiere of Triumphof the Will (Triumphdes Willens, 1935): "Wearing a
white fur coat and a low-cut gown that revealed her ample breasts, Riefenstahl
smiled and waved to the cheering throng"-this in a book written in 1976 and
criticizing Nazism's "antifeminism" (3).
18. See, for example, Silverman, 11.
19. See Rentschler's "Fatal Attractions" for a discussion of Riefenstahl's (and
the mountain film's) indebtedness to romantic painting, especially that of Caspar
David Friedrich: "Like Friedrich, Riefenstahl transforms landscapes into emo-
tional spaces, granting to exterior nature an interior resonance" (51).
20. Also see Rentschler, "Fatal Attractions," 59.
21. I am referring to some of the earliest studies on Nazi cinema: Hull and
Leiser.
22. I have discussed this aspect of the "genius" film in "National Socialism's
Aestheticization of Genius" and in "A Nazi Herstory."
23. For some interesting analysis of modern political spectacles in the form of
"Gesamtkunstwerk," see Rentschler, "The Use and Abuse of Memory," or
Jochen Schulte-Sasse, "Electronic Media and Cultural Politics."
Works Cited