Review of Triumph of the Will (1935) by William C — 30 Jul 2009

On one hand, this is some seriously heavy-handed propaganda. On the other hand, our particular retrospective context has turned the infamous "Triumph of the Will" into an unintentional parody of itself. From the first images of children saluting Hitler with right arms aloft, after his descent from Heaven Above, "Triumph of the Will" has a creepy earnestness that gets under your skin. Hypnotic editing, juxtaposing masses of fervent followers with approving looks from Uncle Adolf, begins to numb the mind. There are so many images of swastikas, groups of soldiers and admirers from the Rhine's bountiful bosom, coupled with short scenes of jollity, that there can be only one, clear message. Hitler cares about Germany, and Germany loves him back by providing its endless resources. National Socialism is hard at work, for You! Plus, with the Reich Autobahn under constuction and the 1936 Olympics just a couple of years hence, Germany is on the cusp of a new future with its limitless potential.

"Triumph" is a triumph of subliminal communication, and also a pretty sublime comedy when Hitler takes the stage and goes off on impassioned speeches. Most are advocating complete, uncompromising devotion to God, and by extension Germany Herself. "You must devote every waking minute, every thought and action, to your country," he says during a night rally, to thousands of massed followers in what looks like a religious gathering. The big Nuremburg rally is the most famous stretch of the film, with the crowd of 200,000 causing tears to well up in Der Fuehrer's eyes. Y'see, he's just like you and me, only super patriotic!

Once you shake the scary intentions, "Triumph of the Will" is hilarious, with some brilliant compositions and great spectacle. The amount of fascist fetlsihism, simplistic ideology, and blatant condescension would satisfy any lover of kitsch or bad cinema. You might have to fast forward through quite a few minutes of repetitive marching and Fuehrer-approval scenes. Legend has it that Luis Bunuel edited a version of this film, turning it into an 80 minute farce. Sounds like something I'd like to track down and watch on 4/20 in honor of Adolf's birthday.