In his book Backing Hitler, historian Robert Gellately argues that, contrary to long held-beliefs, the German masses were willing participants in the Third Reich’s atrocities. It took consent from—rather than coercion of—ordinary Germans, in order for Hitler and his regime to see the execution of their plan through to the end. Now, that’s a simplification of Gellatley’s argument and he certainly is not making the case that the government didn’t also coerce its citizens. But, in a broad sense, the public bought in.
Propaganda, under the fierce control of minister Joseph Goebbels, served as one of the major thoroughfares between the the government and its citizens in order to gain this consent. This, of course, included film. Rudiger Suchsland’s new documentary, Hitler’s Hollywood, makes the case that German cinema from 1933 through 1945 can be viewed as one, singular movie, under the tight watch of Goebbels, that attempted to create a dream-like Germany.
The idea behind the film, which is a long series of seamlessly strung-together clips from movies produced under the Third Reich, isn’t radical in and of itself—it’s well established among historians and film critics that the German film scene did not allow for much subjective creativity during this time period, but rather served the clear purpose of creating an idealized version of a nation and its people. That notion is summed up by a Susan Sontag quote that can be heard while the jubilant crowds depicted in Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph of the Will (which is the most well-known of the movies analyzed in the documentary) fill up the screen with their smiling faces: “The document is no longer simply the record of reality: ‘reality’ has been constructed to serve the image.”
Instead, what makes Hitler’s Hollywood stand out is its use of very rare films, most of which have petered out of the collective memory over the decades. Suchsland also shows that, while Goebbels had an iron grip on the industry, and stifled any sort of dissent, the films themselves were not necessarily bland. The director dug deep into the archives to pull out anything wild and weird from Nazi cinema, including surrealist fantasies and kitschy musicals.
But the underlying current that really pushes the film forward is the intertwining ideas that the film industry served as the “main source of communication” to the masses and that cinema reflects the subconscious of a people. This film, then, is not really about Hitler—in fact, the Fuhrer is noticeably absent on screen—and it’s not really about Goebbels either. Instead it deals more precisely with the filmmakers and actors who constructed this propaganda and, beyond that, the people who watched them.
Hitler’s Hollywood takes the viewer on a historical journey, as it highlights the transformation of Third Reich cinema from the chillingly hearty optimism of Triumph of the Will to the blatantly anti-semitic and baiting Jud Suss (directed by Veit Harlan) to the surprisingly self-aware Kolberg (also directed by Harlan), in which the director articulated the Third Reich’s troubled times just before it collapsed. This evolution from exuberance to hateful anger to dread and despair was dictated by Goebbels, yes, as nothing passed through without his approval;but it also is a reflection of the German nation as a whole.
Although Suchsland acknowledges that some of these films may reveal more about Germany than the filmmakers intended, the German people were likely aware of the major themes behind most of the motion pictures. They saw them willingly and, for the most part—one would assume—they enjoyed them.
In fact, this awareness becomes evident most clearly when Suchsland delves into the personal reactions of some of the directors and actors. One segment notably analyzes Ingrid Bergman’s lone appearance in a German film from 1938, The Four Companions, which tells the story of four young women who attempt to start their own advertising agency, but, in a classic Third Reichian twist, eventually decide that their collective calling is actually motherhood. The future Academy Award winner said she turned down tea with Goebbels after the film and never worked on a German film again, but the fact that she felt the need to get out of dodge so early is telling.
Regardless of whether or not participation from actors and audience is considered an act of complicity, the film clearly shows that Goebbels’ propaganda plan ran deeper than fear-mongering. The movies breached the national consciousness and became a vital part of mainstream German culture. And, in turn, the German people shaped the development of film.
Photo: Hilter’s Hollyood (2017) by Kino Lorber / IMDb.
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