jürgen fauth’s muckworld

D.W. Griffith’s epic about “Love’s Struggle Throughout the Ages” is surprisingly compelling for a silent film from 1916. “Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,” four stories take shape. In the modern tale, a working family endures greedy bosses, meddling “uplifters” and false murder charges. The other three stories tell of Christ’s crucifixion, the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, and the fall of Babylon. As the opening credits helpfully announce, the common theme, invoked again and again, is intolerance (you have to say it with a booming carnival-barker’s voice: in-tol-er-ance!). The accelerating back-and-forth between historical periods keeps things interesting, and of course you already heard about the unbelievable sets of the Babylonian sections. The gargantuan siege contains more than a few moments that will seem familiar from The Lord of the Rings, but hey, everybody’s ripping off Peter Jackson. Intolerance is recommended for anyone; if you have a taste for silent film, it’s a must-see.

Intolerance: Love’s Struggle Throughout the Ages. D.W. Griffith, 1916. ****

• The entire movie on Google Video
• Intolerance at Wikipedia
• Tim Dirks’ Review at Filmsite.org

Here are ten minutes of the siege of Babylon:

It takes guts to make a black and white film and call it The Blue Light, but whatever else you might want to say about Leni Riefenstahl, she had guts. She started her career as a celebrated dancer, became an actress in Dr. Fanck’s mountain films (The White Hell of Pitz Palü), and in 1932, she wrote, directed, and starred in this, her first movie– and all of that was before Hitler, Goebbels, Triumph of the Will, Olympia, Tiefland and the Nuba.

In Das Blaue Licht, Riefenstahl plays mountain-climbing outcast Junta, a wild woman of the Dolomites who is hated by the villagers because she is the only one who can make it up to the highest peak, where a crystal grotto shines blue on full moon nights. An intrepid outsider falls in love with her, discovers her secret, and ruins the ragged woman’s connection to unspoilt nature. The tragic-romantic story, framed as a legend, could be digestible if it wasn’t for Leni’s overripe mugging. Das Blaue Licht is worth seeing for her direction, though. The cinematography is suitably dramatic, and when you compare the dynamic editing to The Golem, it’s amazing how far the movies have come over the course of the decade.

Das Blaue Licht. Leni Riefenstahl and Bela Balazs, 1932. ***

• Das Blaue Licht at Riefenstahl.org
• Leni Riefenstahl - Official Site
• Photos at the Official Site
• dasblauelicht.net
• Leni Riefenstahl’s Photography at Fahey/Klein Gallery
• Essay by Luc Deneulin

YouTube has an excerpt from The Wonderful, Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl in which she talks about editing Das Blaue Licht:

Luc Besson returns to Paris with a little movie that begins as playful comedy about a crook who meets a beautiful woman — and ends as dreadfully dumbed-down remake of Wings of Desire. André (Jamel Debbouze) is a scam artist who’s run out of luck, ready to hurl himself into the Seine when Angela (Rie Rasmussen) does the same. He saves her life, and they make a pact…. The first twenty minutes are lithe and fun, and in the slick black-and-white cinematography, Paris looks almost as good as the freakishly leggy Danish model.

Then comes the fatal misstep: Angela — mon dieu! – is an honest-to-god angel, sent to teach André the value of love, honesty, and self-respect. She does this by whoring herself out to every man in some sort of day-time nightclub and giving cloying speeches that Rasmussen is not actress enough to pull off (I doubt anybody is.) Even at 88 minutes, Angel-A feels padded and overlong, and the ending is an embarrassment of unearned sentiment.

Speaking of bridges: after the screening, we partied with Ghostface Killah and Spike Lee under the Queensboro, but that’s a story for another day. Angel-A opens May 25.

Angel-A. Luc Besson, 2005. **

• Angel-A Photo Gallery

Like “Snakes on a Plane,” “the white hell of Piz Palü” has become a bit of a stock phrase around here, indicating the dangers of letting me administer the Netflix queue all by myself. Directed in 1929 by Dr. Arnold Franck, the father of the mountain film, and G.W. Pabst, this Alpine adventure stars Leni Riefenstahl as one of the many people who climb up the mountain and get into trouble. Some awesome avalanche footage, a lot of ice, majestic peaks, etc. Somebody’s wife falls into a glacier and freezes over.