Die Nibelungen is a silent film, directed by Fritz Lang, most
famous for his film about a serial murderer; M, starring
Peter Lorre. An epic of its time, the film was released in Germany
in 1924. Following the 13th century German/Norse Myth
that it is taken from, the film is in two parts: Siegfried
and Kriemhild’s Revenge, and is approximately five hours
long. Yup, five hours of silent film (with music) and I enjoyed
every strange, crazy minute of it.
To set you up with the plot… The film—the myth—follows the
adventures of the great Teutonic Knight and handsome blond hero,
Siegfried, as he performs supernatural tasks and mighty deeds—and,
becomes the greatest warrior in the world. As befits the top male
dog, he wins the hand (and not just the hand) of the top female dog
in the world, the beautiful Kriemhild, sister of the King of
Burgundy. They are a power-couple; big, strong, beautiful, noble,
rich... If they lived now, you’d see their every move detailed in
the tabloids. Siegfried and Kriemhild’s love and subsequent
marriage is one for the ages.
About halfway through the first part of the epic, Siegfried uses
his magic powers—and he has plenty of them—being favored by the
Gods in all sorts of ways, to help the weak (and weak-willed) King
of Burgundy win the hand of the great warrior queen Brunhilde, Queen
of Iceland. Brunhilde is a stocky, dark-haired, armor-wearing Amazon
and she routinely beats any man who challenges her, but she loses to
Siegfried’s superior Germanic power.
Later, the whiny King of Burgundy finds that he cannot be tame—i.e.,
sexually dominate—Brunhilde. So, once again, Siegfried has to do
the job. Well, naturally, when this (adulterous) deed is discovered
later, it begins a fateful set of circumstances that puffs up the
entire epic to a full-blown Teutonic tragedy.
Evil is also afoot in the person of Harken Kronje, who seems to
be a sort of combination Leader-of-the-Joint-Chiefs-of-Staff and
head of the Gestapo for Burgundy. He sees that Siegfried is becoming
too beloved by the people of Burgundy and will surely supplant the
King. And since Kronje’s loyalty to the King and the Kingdom is
the highest duty of all, the vicious Kronje uses deception to kill
Siegfried—literally stabbing him in the back.
The rest of the Film is taken up with Kriemhild’s (Siggy’s
grieving widow) Revenge. She accepts a deal to become the wife of
the great, ugly Attila the Hun. Kriemhild travels to Hun-land and,
after conceiving Attila’s son, persuades Attila to invite the
Burgundian court to visit.
The Burgundians show up with a pretty hefty guard of picked
Teutonic Knights. They are leery of this set-up because the filthy,
semi-human Huns are their traditional enemies.
During the course of a great banquet, everything goes very wrong.
Mean old Burgundian, Herr General Kronje, winds up killing Attila’s
baby son, and Kriemhild and Attila attack the Knights. And even
though they are vastlt outnumbered by the despicable under-menschen,
the "noble" knights put up a noble fight.
Driven to heights of frenzy by the Vengeful Kriemhild, the
Teutons are eventually burned alive in Attila’s castle—every
last one of them expiring in blood and flames.
Does any of this sound familiar? Well, it should. This film, made
only at the very beginning of Hitler’s and the Nazi’s rise to
power in Bavaria is like an unconscious blue-print for every
grandiose, flag-waving, psychotic Nazi nightmare that came later on.
Lang devoted Die Nibelungen "To The German People".
When asked in a 1967 BBC interview why he used this particular
dedication, he said that he wanted to bring some hope to the then
despairing Germans. At the time, the Germans, recently the big
losers in World War 1, were forced to pay ruinous reparations to
France and England. They were also in the grip of a relentless
political civil war—not to mention a devastating depression.
But how did Lang intend his great film to bring hope? By
reminding the Germans, Lang said, of their great Germanic and Norse
Mythic heritage; i.e., The spectacle of indomitable militaristic
Aryan heroes and conquerors; more pure, more noble, than all the
other common scum that infested the earth. Presumably, by seeing all
this, the German people could once again take hope for the future.
What kind of future would that be? Well, the world didn’t have to
wait to long after the film’s release to find out: Deutschland
Uber Alles.
Fritz Lang came from a middle-class background and studied art.
Among his favorites were the wonderful painters Egon Schiele and
Gustav Klimt—both considered "decadent" painters. Not
decadent in the boorish, politically defined way the Nazi’s used
the term, but "decadent" in that there was a great feeling
of ruinous, obsessive sexuality and madness that pervaded the work
of Schiele and Klimt.
Lang went into the new field of film and you can clearly see the
influence of these artists, (and painting itself) in Lang’s
costumes and settings. Whether filmed in nature or with real
cathedrals and castles, or using fantastic man-made props, you can
feel the great, brooding nightmares that seem to lurk in the German
soul. There are massive shadows, stark contrasts of light and dark,
shades of good and evil in almost every scene in the movie. In fact,
Lang also studied Nietsche and Freud, so that the knowledge of the
unconscious was something never too far from his sensibility. What
you observe—what you feel—when you watch this morbidly
fascinating epic, is a combination of crazy, fated Germanic romance
and dark Freudian demons. What lurks in the Black Forest and
towering castles of Lang’s film? Not just your regular dragons,
demons and trolls, but also, sexuality and the lust for death. It’s
an amazingly powerful combination—one that infuses a great deal of
early German cinema.
But, whatever Lang’s artistic and/or moral intentions (if he
ever had any moral intentions), the director certainly had one great
fan, Adolph Hitler. Siegfried was said to move Hitler to
tears, and he once told Joseph Goebbels, "This [Lang] is the
man that will bring us the Nazi film!" In fact, in the late
thirties Lang was summoned to see Goebbels. The Propaganda Minister
told Lang how enamored Hitler was of his films and more or less
offered Lang control of the entire German film industry—presumably
to crank out great Nazi epics. Lang claims that he knew, right then
and there, that he had to get out of Germany. He was gone in a
month, ultimately finding his way—as many other German film
directors and writers did—to Hollywood.
In the forties and fifties, Lang directed some Hollywood-type
anti-Nazi movies, then moved on to direct some of the great black
and white noir films from that period like The Big Heat.
Well, so much for the director—back to Siegfried. Kriemhild,
Attila and the gang…
The film itself, no matter what the story or content, is a treat
to watch, considering the director’s great talent and his powerful
artistic influences.
You have to slow yourself down because the sensibility is slow
and melodramatic, as you find in all silent films. People were used
to Vaudeville and theater and it was a slower time in general. You
have to abandon any yearning for color or speed, and the special
effects are sometimes just plain silly. Yet, because there was no
claymation, robotics or computer graphics, the director had to
imagine scenes and settings and realize them only with materials at
hand—natural settings, wood, cloth, paint and the like. The
special effects of film were primitive so technique was subsidiary
to pure imagination. The results range from the sublime to the
ridiculous…
As for content, the film, as I said, is a perfect foreshadowing
of the Nazi Era. The 12 year horror that the Germans inflicted on
the world didn’t grow from nothing; and in Lang’s film the seeds
and roots are all frighteningly visible.
The Huns in the film are clearly the great Slav nations; The
Russians, The Poles, etc. All of them were lowly, un-German fodder,
who were meant to be ruled by the "noble" Teutons. Every
horrible little troll, dwarf and gnome in the film looks almost
exactly like the later Nazi propaganda posters of conniving,
money-hungry Jews. Siegfried, with his Great Blonde Prowess,
actually goes under the earth and, by virtue of his Teutonic
superiority and supernatural powers granted the Norse Gods, he
overwhelms, then steals the Gold of the Nibelungen (twisted little
dwarfs that live in caves pile up wealth). This, also, is perfect,
half-conscious fore-shadowing of the Nazi’s killing of and
stealing the money and property of the Jews (and every other group
they could steal from). Siegfried eventually turns the covetous
little, hook-nosed gnomes into stone and takes their fortune. Well,
later the noble Germans turned the Jews into ashes but that’s
close enough…
In the end, the Teutons die in a blazing fortress which crumbles
around them—exactly the way Hitler and his delusionary acolytes
died in their bunker at the end of the war; overwhelmed, I might
point out, by the Russian "hordes" (the Huns).
It is chilling and clearly prophetic that the great message of
this movie—which, again, is merely following the ancient Teutonic
folk-tale—is that there is no nobler or higher duty than to…The
Leader! Der Fuhrer. Throughout the movie, loyalty to
either one’s comrades-in-arms and especially to The King—The
Leader—is clearly shown to be the highest state a German (man) can
attain to. Love for women or children is part of the Knight’s code
of course, but such mundane love is easily sacrificed in the face of
any threat to King and Country. To the very end it goes; the Teutons
all dying to defend the murderous brute Kronje and his weak, morally
corrupt King. When you watch this film, you can easily picture the
SS marching in robot formation, the Panzer tanks rolling, the mass
murders, the Nazi banners flying… You can hear the gutteral
strains of beerhall songs and Nazi anthems. You can see the world
being consumed in blood and flame: Gotterdamerung!
Rent this film, on DVD if you can. It is a scary, bizzarre, great
work of art. And it’s a time-travel machine that will take you
back, and down, into the depths of the German soul. Just make sure
you have a pint of ice cream to eat afterwards or somebody you love
around to remind yourself that you are still a human being.