Książka Andrzeja Gwoździa Kino na biegunach. Filmy niemieckie i ich historie (1949-1991) (2019) przedstawia szeroką panoramę kina NRD i RFN w omawianym okresie. Autor kreśli bogaty obraz kinematografii niemieckiej tego czasu, wskazując czytelnikom kilkaset filmów. Książka uporządkowana jest chronologicznie i zajmuje się zarówno dziełami kanonicznymi, jak i popularnymi czy rozrywkowymi. Autor nie przedstawia usystematyzowanych problemów badawczych ani nie podąża za konkretną metodologią, lecz raczej dzieli się historiami, które stoją w tle omawianych filmów, a także własnymi impresjami i przyjemnościami płynącymi z obcowania z kinem.
EN
A review of a book by Andrzej Gwóźdź Rocking cinema. German films and their histories (1949-1991) (Kino na biegunach. Filmy niemieckie i ich historie (1949-1991) (2019)). The book presents a wide panorama of the cinema of the GDR and West Germany in the period in question. The author sketches a rich picture of German cinematography of that time, pointing to several hundred films. The book is organized chronologically and deals with both canonical, popular or entertainment cinema. The author does not present systematized research problems nor does he follow a specific methodology, but rather shares stories that stand in the background of the discussed films, as well as his own impressions and pleasures flowing from the cinema.
Najnowszy tom wrocławskiej serii „Niemcy – Media – Kultura” wpisuje się w formowany od niedawna nowy, wielowymiarowy obraz dziejów kina niemieckiego, nie stanowi jednak typowego wykładu historycznofilmowego. Autorka recenzji zwraca uwagę na liczne zalety książki Andrzeja Gwoździa „Zaklinanie rzeczywistości. Filmy niemieckie i ich historie 1933-1949” (2018), przede wszystkim na to, że łączy ona w sobie walory interesującej lektury ze skrupulatnym rekonstruowaniem pejzażu audiowizualnego Niemiec lat 1933-1949. Najważniejszy kontekst tego pejzażu stanowią rozmaite ideologie, dlatego też jednym z dominujących wątków monografii jest motyw kina jako narzędzia walki, podporządkowanego różnym instytucjom. Drugim spoiwem filmów analizowanych w książce jest natomiast zasada przyjemnościowa, realizowana zarówno przez kino Trzeciej Rzeszy, jak i przez kinematografie powojennych stref okupacyjnych. Na uwagę zasługuje również trzecia część tomu, oferująca zbiór precyzyjnie zredagowanych pism z omawianej epoki.
EN
The latest volume of the Wrocław series “Germany – Media – Culture” fits in with the new, multifaceted picture of the history of German cinema that has been formed recently, but it is not a typical presentation of film history. The author of the review draws attention to the numerous merits of the book by Andrzej Gwóźdź “Zaklinanie rzeczywistości. Filmy niemieckie i ich historie 1933-1949” [“Enchantment of Reality. German Films and their Histories 1933-1949”] (2018). Above all, it combines the qualities of an interesting reading with the meticulous reconstruction of the audiovisual landscape of Germany of the years 1933-1949. The most important context of this landscape are various ideologies, which is why one of the dominant themes of the monograph is the theme of cinema as a weapon of war, subordinated to various institutions. The second common theme in the films analysed in the book is the pleasure principle, implemented both by the cinema of the Third Reich and by cinematographies of the post-war occupation zones. The third part of the volume, offering a collection of precisely edited writings from the discussed era, is also noteworthy.
Artykuł podejmuje problematykę kreowania wizerunku żydowskich protagonistów w filmach Labirynt kłamstw (Im Labirynth des Schweigens, 2014, reż. Giulio Ricciarelli) oraz Murer: Anatomia procesu ( Murer: Anatomie des Prozesses, 2018, reż. Christian Frosch). Podstawowym celem badawczym jest tu wskazanie strategii, z jakich korzystają twórcy tych dzieł w procesie kodowania żydowskości. Refleksji poddane zostają także motywy i role przypisywane żydowskim postaciom. Materiał badawczy stanowią współczesne produkcje z Austrii oraz Niemiec. Komparatystyczna analiza umożliwia podjęcie refleksji nad tym, na ile odmienna polityka pamięci i przebieg rozliczeń z nazistowską przeszłości wpływają na filmowe wizerunki Żydów.
Propaganda was one of the most important spheres of activity for the national socialists in the Weimar Republic and the Third Reich. The central questions of the Nazi propaganda were racism, anti-Semitism, the ideology of an egalitarian national community, militarism and a pseudo-religious cult of Adolf Hitler. The specific feature of the Nazi indoctrination was its close connection with the new mass media, first of all with the film and the radio. The classical cinematographic productions under the sign of the ‘Hakenkreuz’ were the audio-visual documents from the NSDAP conventions, which took place in Nuremberg. The Triumph of the Will directed by Leni Riefenstahl depicts the party congress in 1934, i.e. when the totalitarian foundations of the Nazi regime were being built. The film – meant to be a propagandist instrument of the new rulers of Germany – presents the cult of Hitler as a charismatic leader and a political saviour of the German nation in a convincing way thanks to an appropriate film editing, the organisation of takes and the symbolism of light. The dictator filmed from below (a worm’s eye view) appeared much bigger, and the mass of the people gathered at the convention gave the impression of their smallness compared to the omnipresent Führer. The director of The Triumph of the Will also sought to show an emotional link between the Führer and his people and to underline the unconditional love for Hitler felt by the Germans. The film is still giving rise to controversy among researchers and historians, who even today are engaged in a discussion on its documentary and aesthetic values and the propagandist message in the spirit of the Nazi messianism.
The last Weimar film by Fritz Lang, Das Testament des Dr. Mabuse / Le Testament du Dr. Mabuse (1933), is commonly regarded as anti-Nazi. Such an opinion results, inter alia, from the fact that the film was not authorised to go on general release in the Third Reich and from the story according to which the director must have escaped from Germany in April 1933 after an alleged meeting with Goebbels, minister of propaganda. In the light of the documents revealed after the death of the director and the facts commonly known now it has turned out that the whole story had been Lang’s fabrication, it is a ‘conjured-up film’. Being an expatriate in the USA Lang strengthened the widespread conviction of the anti-Nazi character of his film by manipulating the translation of the subtitles while the French version of his film was being released in the USA in 1943. The director made further manipulations on the original material of the film when its German version was being released in the USA in 1952 under the title of The Crimes of Dr Mabuse; its anti-Nazi character was suggested by the dialogues in the English-language dubbing translated from the German language; the translation was not literal (word-for-word) in the least. Some additional fragments of the film were shot later in order to explain that the plot took place between 1932 and 1939 when Germany was ruled by ‘Hitler’s criminal gang’. It was just ‘Hilter’s criminal gang’ – according to this interpretation – that is synonymous with the gang of Mabuse/Baum. Just the reverse interpretation was suggested by the version of the film released by Goebbels in the Third Reich – some extra scenes (Rahmenhandlung) shot then suggested placing the action in the ‘gloomy’ times of the Weimar Republic ruled by the Jews. The analysis of the original, devoid of any manipulations, version of the film proves that Mabuse is an ‘empty space’ that may be ‘filled’ with various political and cultural meanings, but always connected with the authorities, with violence, crime, financial chicanery and behind-the-scenes manipulation. Yet, instead of looking for a political interpretation of the film, it might be interesting to have a look at its aesthetic affiliations: the plot of The Last Will of Dr Mabuse surprisingly resembles the famous film by Robert Wiene Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari (1919), the last production of the Weimar Cinema. The two films describe criminal psychiatrists that became mad and eventually were locked in a mental hospital, which had been headed by them before.
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