Collaboration or complicity… The White Hell of Pitz Palü (1929)

 

This is probably the peak of Bergfilm in the Weimar period, with the audacious physical cinema of genre market-maker Arnold Fanck combined with the directorial intensity of G. W. Pabst it’s no surprise that we get a balance between the epic outdoors and the emotional highs and lows of the main players. Pabst had the best actor on screen with Gustav Diessl who had first worked with him in Im Banne der Kralle (1921) and of course, in Pandoras Box released ten months before White Hell and he is superbly focused as the mountaineer Dr. Johannes Krafft who is haunted by the loss of his wife on the mountain he cannot escape.

There are genuinely stunning views of the mountain ranges and terrifying shots of avalanches which look far to close for comfort to Fanck’s intrepid camera men, Sepp Allgeier, Richard Angst and Hans Schneeberger. There are long sequences inside the glaciated nooks and crannies as men with hand-held torches search for lost climbers, a grim, unreal underworld of fleeting reflections, dark shadows and compacted unforgiving edges on which bodies would crack. There are torch-lit rescue parties whose light floods through the villages growing in intensity as the cause is joined: humanity working together in service of the injured and possibly still living.

Then there are two thrilling appearances by World War I pilot Ernst Udet whose bi-plane speeds through the valleys at first performing impressive loops and dives and then in desperate search for three missing climbers during which he flies as close to the ledge on which they cling as possible, props again to those magnificent men with their whirring machines. You climb three thousand metres, set your tripod close to the edge and then capture a plane buzzing metres away from a snow-encrusted rock face prone to sudden stoßentladungen.

Gustav Diessl

Of course, we always have to contend with Leni, the elephant (in the room) but she is not the only one with questions to answer after 1933. Fanck, Diessl and Pabst all had their own deals to make once their country was under Nazi rule and yet our slide-rule judgements may now be passed too rigorously after the facts, even as a new era of enabling complicity cracks the World order and, influential American broadcaster Tucker Carlson says he cannot understand why the Second World War was ever fought.

When this film was made the Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei, formed in 1920 after a renaming of the German Worker’s Party, had just seen their share of the national vote reduced from 1924 to 1928 when they got 810,000 votes (2.9% of the total). By the time of the 1930 election, they had jumped to some 6,400,000 following the global financial crash and would more than double that by 1932.

The party and its ideas were rooted in certain strands of thought which can be seen in Fanck’s work with Bergfilm – a belief in physical heroism and the natural beauty of the “pure” landscapes versus the bourgeoise cities. But, you might find similar sentiments in Hollywood films of this era too, not to mention British in fiction and fact with their determination to climb Everest and cross the poles.  The fascist’s agenda was broader and could be all things to all men as they tried to lure followers away from the traditional parties on the right and left. It was initially an urban phenomena – the party being formed in Munich – but in the countryside many were sympathetic to the idea of conflating the power of nature with the power of the mind to paraphrase a warning from the very urban Immanuel Kant in The Critique of Judgement (1790).

Mind over mountain... Leni Riefenstahl

Siegfried Kracauer in From Caligari to Hitler (1947) claimed the Bergfilm were “rooted in a mentality kindred to the Nazi spirit” and it is true that Hitler was a fan and also that Fanck remarked to Riefenstahl during the filming of The Holy Mountain (1926) how much the nationalists would appreciate her performance: athletic perfection and beauty, daring and a will to power.

This is something the actor, dancer and director recalled in The Wonderful, Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl (1993) – made when she was 90 years old – as well as being featured in Andres Veiel’s Riefenstahl (2024). If the former documentary was an attempt to explain her life in broader terms than the eight years of her collaborations with the Nazis that never reached a definite conclusion, the latter film, including an interview she gave aged 100 and with access to her archives, has more focus on the 1930s but leaves us little the wiser before then. She comes across as incredibly intelligent but also sly and defensive… it’s a painful watch.

She was found not guilty of war crimes and “de-nazified” by a French tribunal in 1949: designated a “fellow traveller” of, and sympathiser with, the regime but not a formal member of the party. She fought the battle for the rest of her long life a singular totem representing a society and culture of unresolved conflicts before and after the events.

Once Hitler was in power, Arnold Fanck initially resisted pressure from Joseph Goebbels to produce propaganda as he also refused to join the party as many were pressured to do. He had changed his tune by the time of A German Robinson Crusoe (1940), the story of a man who returns from self-imposed isolation to a Germany with a “new hope”.  Oddly enough, Riefenstahl, despite producing the major works of propaganda, never joined the party and neither did Gustav Diessl who appeared in the 1945 propaganda film Kolberg and never stopped working throughout the period in Germany and Italy. His final film was directed by Pabst and was The Trial (1948) about antisemitism and he died soon after of a stroke, aged 49.

“There were all these people who had those nightmares that suddenly they were back in Nazi Germany... and there’s one case, only one, that’s Pabst, of somebody who probably had these nightmares and then actually found himself back there in Nazi Germany.”

As for Pabst, there’s a new novel, The Director, losely based on his life by German novelist Daniel Kehlmann who made the above comment. This details the compromises that Pabst would have faced on his unfortunate return to Germany in 1939. He was caught in Austria visiting his mother when war was declared and had no choice but to remain and work through it. On the face of it, Kehlmann’s characterisation doesn’t sound like the director once called “Red Pabst” for his anti-war films and social commentary such as in The Joyless Street (1925) with Garbo and Asta Nielsen.

Ernst Petersen and Leni Riefenstahl

There’s complicity and self-preservation, but I’m not sure a work of fiction is the best way of analysing the actions of a real person especially when dealing with a figure some know so well in creative terms*. Pabst made two films under the Nazis, both historical dramas, The Comedians (1941) and Paracelsus (1943) and a third which was abandoned. After the war, he made the above mentioned, The Trial in an attempt to show solidarity with the Jewish cause and he also made The Last Ten Days (1955) about the end of Hitler’s regime, Duel with Death (1949) about the Austrian resistance to the Nazi’s and It Happened on 20 July (1955) about the attempt to assassinate the Fuhrer.

We’ll never truly know where any of these people’s sympathies actually lay but they are all a lesson in how people cope with authoritarian regimes and opting out of your earning capacity is a simple enough equation after the event but – let’s say it’s early 1933 right now – who’s doing good work and who has got their heads down?

Anyway… back in 1929 it was definitely heads up for the location shoot in in the Bernina Range in Graubünden, Switzerland as our directors and their players climbed up to act out this tale of peril against the stunning backdrops of those forbidding mountains. I enjoy Fanck’s films, not just for the scenery but also the sense of actual adventure and the bravery of the leads taking on the actual crags and scrambles. There were no stunt people, the actors had to make the climbs and cower for safety as explosions were used to trigger avalanches.

It was his foundational Der Berg Des Schicksals (Mountain of Destiny) (1924), that inspired 21-year-old dancer Leni Riefenstahl to get in touch with its pioneering director, who then featured her in The Holy Mountain (1926) and The Great Leap (1927) in which his lens sees her climb and dance her way up the mountains in a celebration of vitality and spirit. In The White Hell of Pitz Palü she is called upon to act a lot more and Pabst brings out her best work in this respect although it certainly helps to have better actors to react to than the granite-faces Luis Trenker star of so many Fanck films (and who dodged the interventions of Goebbels by moving to Italy in 1940).

The story begins with Dr. Johannes on the north face of Piz Palü with his new wife Maria (Mizzi Götzel) along with their friend, Bergführer Spring (Swiss mountain guide Christian Klucker who does a good job on the acting front). Diessl’s vibrancy conveys the confidence of well-seasoned climbers yet fear soon overtakes them as an avalanche sparked by the regions vicious föhn winds, leads to Maria falling as the rope Johannes so confidently grasped, snaps and she is lost to the frozen caverns below.

Time passes and another young couple, Maria Maioni (Riefenstahl) and her fiancé Hans Brandt (Ernst Petersen), arrive at the Diavolezza-Hütte overlooking the mountain range with Pitz Palü, elevation 3,899 m (12,792 ft) imposing in the centre. The Hutte is still there and has been expanded from the basics of 1929 but still comfort enough for Maria and Hans. Their pilot pal Udet flies his biplane overhead to celebrate their engagement holiday and drops a bottle of champagne via parachute.

They are joined by an almost wordless Johannes who has spent the last four years searching for Maria’s body on the mountain. Maria is drawn to him, sensing his pain, and he finally melts and tells all as she holds his hands in the hut. Bergführer Spring arrives and tells them that a group of students will be attempting to climb the north face the next day, Johanne resolves to try again to beat them to it and, after hearing that this is no climb to attempt on your own, Hans agrees to join him. As they set off, Maria joins them following on skis, not wanting to miss out on the adventure.

At first things go to plan but then, needing to prove himself in the face of Maria’s wandering gaze, Hans insists on leading only to be swept away by a sudden avalanche. Johannes rescues him a great cost, breaking his leg as the three become stranded on an icy ledge. The students are less fortunate as all are consumed by the mass of snow and fall to their doom in the glacier.

Bergführer Spring finds the note made in the hut’s climbing log and sets off to find them as well as the missing students and after being forced back by a blizzard created by those föhn winds, he calls the village out to help in the search and thus begins Fanck’s epic depiction of the night time mobilisation of the search and rescue team. The mountain is huge and the conditions get worse, finding anyone alive over this vast area is going to be unlikely and yet Johannes and Maria cling to life even as Hans goes mad with the strain. It’s a race against time and the limits of human endurance: mind over mountain?

There’s a vast difference between making Triumph of the Will thereby playing a major part in creating, not just promoting, the Nazi visual aesthetic and continuing to work in a cinema industry under Goebbels’ control. There’s also a difference in working conditions once the war had started and the madness truly set in. To paraphrase Naomi Klein**, you don’t have to wait for the genocidal endgame to call out fascistic behaviours as they develop and in terms of enabling the regime Leni has a lot more to answer for than her three main collaborators on this film.

For The White Hell of Pitz Palü, the adventure was surely less political than philosophical and certainly more commercial than both. You also start wondering how John Ford or DW Griffith (!!) would have been viewed had they been making films in Weimar Germany at this time or how their films would be regarded had post-Depression America gone bad. But sure, ignore History at your peril.

  

*A different perspective on Pabst is offered by Angela Christlieb's documentary Pandora’s Legacy (2024) made with contributions from the director’s family and focusing also on his wife Trude. This is a stylish and entertaining visit to the lives of the Pabsts today as well as in the past featuring Marion, butterfly breeder and radical environmental activist, Daniel, art collector and composer, and Ben, a dinosaur researcher whose father George, born in 1924 and Pabst's eldest son by some 17 years with Michael arriving in 1941. George worked as an assistant director on GW's post-war films and Ben remembers watching the making of one of his works in Italy. 

The documentary describes Pabst as the founder of realism in German cinema and he certainly deserves more credit than he’s getting from some reviewers of The Director. From letters between him and Trude as well as Ben's recollections, he dragged his feet as much as possible with Goebbels, coming up with films that were too expensive to be made and which he knew would be rejected. Then he took as long as possible to make the films he did make... passive resistance combined with a refusal to make propaganda on other's terms?

There's also a very telling snippet in a letter Pabst writes to Trude in 1940 in which he mentions Riefenstahl being free of the "artistic control" of Goebbels as she had a direct line to "H"... that explains much about the difference in their positions. 

Pandora’s Legacy is available through the True Story website – link here.

Pabst's grandson, composer Daniel Pabst, examines the evidence of Louise Brooks

As enjoyable as the documentary is, it leaves open a number of questions and makes you long for a more thorough examination of the work and life of GWP and Trude. Luckily a new biography is in the works again with the family’s co-operation and probably the result of all the digging required for this film. I look forward to the end product. 

And yes, I am reading The Director which has Pabst’s two sons merged into a third fictitious character who joins the Hitler Youth… judgement reserved till completion though… it's not a straightforward biography, Pabst is more of a device through which to filter more general experience. But, as my daughter says, this is not an area of History you want to muddy... and that goes for bloggers as well! More detail on this breaking story when we get it... 

You can order the book from Bookshop.org right here!

**Naomi Klein’s new book written with Astra Taylor, End Times Fascism and the Fight for the Living World is out now and available from all good bookshops and the very best are independent just like Bookshop.org where you will also find this book!

Free shipping on orders over £25... just saying.

 

The Diavolezza-Hütte still overlooks Pitz Palü...

Dolomites theory… The Great Leap (1927), Kino Lorber Blu-ray

In which the dynamic trio of the Weimar “mountain film” turn out a comedy that illustrates the main themes of the genre whilst showing the simple glories that made it such a success: the challenges of nature and, indeed, woman.

Now, let’s get this particular woman out of the way from the start along with those easy-to-make philosophical connections to what was about to happen. Leni Riefenstahl is one of the most controversial filmmakers for her documentaries charting Nazi rallies and the 1936 Olympics – major works of propaganda that were hugely important to their cause - but I’ve no idea if she’d even read Mein Kampf when she was acting in this and Arnold Fanck’s other berg films, The Holy Mountain (1926), The White Hell of Pitz Palu (1929) and Storm Over Mount Blanc (1930). At this stage, Hitler was on the edges of Weimar politics having been imprisoned in 1924 for six months after a failed coup, whilst his National Socialist German Workers’ Party (NSDAP) won only 12 seats in the 1928 election (under proportional representation) and were the ninth largest party with the German Communist Party on 54 seats and the SPD (Social Democrats) on 153.

Leni and Adolf certainly were connected in 1932 when she was transfixed by his performance at a rally and he started to see her as the ideal of Germanic femininity after her directorial debut, The Blue Light. At this point, she was far from the “fellow traveller” she later claimed to be and, indeed, even that film was co-written by two men of the Jewish faith, Carl Mayer and Béla Balázs… her compromises, and infatuation, were now to start building up and, post war, there would be half a long lifetime of recriminations and rationalisations.

Leni Riefenstahl

But forget about Leni for a moment, did Arnold Fanck and Luis Trenker’s mountain films specifically connect to a far-right philosophy that was still being defined? Both may well have viewed the purity of mountain life as a cure for the ills of the city but this is surely part of a broader romantic view of nature not just limited to Germany or indeed this period. They were certainly less cooperative with the Nazi’s and, whilst they stayed in Germany, they never accepted any propagandist brief as enthusiastically as their former colleague.

As with all classic film you just need to watch and try to understand in the context of the period in which it was made and here we have a film in which Fanck, Trenker and Riefenstahl make a zany comedy which actually pokes fun at their own berg films including the over-idealisation of the rugged rocky paradise which they had always shown setting urban men free. The filmmaker's gaze is still fixed on the actresses' form and features throughout, promoting her as a physical as well as sexual ideal and yet there is some sending up. Leni’s goatherd Gita, even lives in a fairy tale chalet with her younger sisters and it’s one of the few sequences filmed on set as if to clearly mark its un-reality. The youngsters frolic like mystic nymphs whilst snow – actually goose feathers – falls like so much plastic in a life-sized snow globe.

Leni Riefenstahl and Luis Trenker

Even the mountains are used for fun with Gita climbing up two granite stacks to avoid the attentions of Toni, Trenker playing it for laughs with goofy looks and daft hair. This is still a serious freestyle climb with no safety line and with the actress in bare feet which were cut to shreds as she climbed to the top of both and another to the left, posing, smiling and teasing,  making it all look easy. Riefenstahl had started off as a dancer but injury caused her to look elsewhere and after meeting Trenker she was introduced to Fanck and then turned her fitness and core strength towards the rockface.

Fanck’s films often took long to make and part of the reason for that, as film historian Samm Deighan says in her superbly informative commentary, was that the performers kept on getting injured. It was also down to shooting almost entirely on location and, as in this case, using six cinematographers to capture the audacious stunts and sublime locations 12,000 feet and more up in the Dolomites.

Hans Schneeberger

One of these, Hans Schneeberger, also had to act as Michael Treuherz, the cossetted and conflicted man from the city who takes a break from the rat race to enjoy the great outdoors and finally find himself. In this he is aided by his manservant Paule, played by Paul Graetz, a proper comic actor, who wasted little time in getting out of Germany in 1932, making films in Britain and Hollywood before his untimely death in 1937. A cabaret artist and stage actor who had worked with Max Reinhardt, Graetz delivers the most naturally humorous performance as the cheekily inventive valet who comes up with elaborate ways to help is master win the ski race for Gita’s affections.

The film is split between the opening sequence of comedic climbing and then, after a studio bound set up for the love triangle, the great ski race which is almost an hour long. Michael and Paul arrive as the greenest of tourists and it’s love at first sight for the virginal financier as he encounters Gita with her goats. Michael is a mess of a man who only knows the artificial world of commerce, whereas Gita knows how to handle herself, taking a break from longingly photographed free-swimming in mountain lakes to save him from a water mill.

There’s something of Riefenstahl’s performance that brings to mind Pola Negri in Lubitsch’s comedies, especially Die Bergkatze (The Wildcat or The Mountain Cat) from 1921. There’s the same rough and ready femininity on display and they are clearly dominant over the clueless males; Germanic fantasy women yes, but think of Mabel Normand kicking Charlie Chaplin all over Hollywood in 1914? Gita is clearly superior to the men, a better climber and a good heart, at ease with herself and her surroundings.

In contrast, uptight Michael has no clue how to woo and wastes an evening trying, and failing, to work up the courage to enter his new love’s chalet, watching in unmanly horror as the goofy Toni strolls in to steal his strudel, much to Gita’s disgust. She has to take the lead and decides that if Michael wins the local cross-country ski race, he will also win her heart… however incredibly unlikely that may be.

Paul Graetz and friend

Gita takes care to exclude Toni from the race, luring him into following her around the course along with her favourite goat (uncredited) on skiis… whilst Paul works out a number of devices to help his man win: an inflated suit to add bulk and buoyancy, preventing any falls and even a small propeller to aid is climb. The plot is merely an excuse for Fanck to unleash wave after wave of trick shots as the stunt team defy gravity (and logic) during the course of the race.

It is a visual treat and great fun especially with the addition of Neil Brand’s expertly attuned accompaniment. Neil’s seen those skylines for years of course and whilst he expresses a wealth of scoring experience, he also grounds his themes in both an understanding of contemporary purpose as well as the dynamics required to elevate these “landscapes of transcendent and mystical power”. It’s as much as masterclass as Fanck’s direction and his performers’ climbing and uplifts the action when perhaps a little too long is spent in the snow…

Deighan’s context for the film is that it is an “escapist fairy-tale” made not just at a time of topline political and economic turmoil but of poverty and desperation – let us absolve ordinary Germans from the guilt to come and at least enjoy this film for how it appeared to be to them at the time.

I watched the new Kino Lorber Blu-ray which is available direct from them in North America – I have my sources (thanks Mary in Santa Barbara!) – or through Amazon.com and other international shippers.

Skiers' greeting meaning "Good skiing!"

Mountains of the mind… The Holy Mountain (1926)

Arnold Fanck’s The Holy Mountain (Der Heilige Berg) premiered on 17^th December 1926 and starred dancer-turned-actress, later director, propagandist, wildlife and anthropological documentary film maker, Leni Riefenstahl - one of the most loaded names in cinema history.

Its opening credits announce that all the outdoor shots were filmed on the mountains with the aid of local climbers whilst the film’s ski race was also filmed “live” using experts from Germany, Austria and Norway. It is described as “A Drama Poem with scenes from nature by Dr. Arnold Fanck…” and one which is “Dedicated to his late friend, mountaineer Dr. Hans Rhode with reverence…

Leni Riefenstahl

Clearly a lot of ice flowed under the bridge to make the story but that is as nothing in comparison with the avalanche that followed in the 1930s. Still it's surely all too easy to portray The Holy Mountain as a proto-Nazi film as some appear of have decided. This was made well before Hitler’s coming to power in 1933, when the NSDAP had seemingly peaked with just 14 seats in the Reichstag falling to 12 in 1928. Riefenstahl hadn't yet read Mein Kampf (published in 1925 and 1926 ) and her falling under its author's influence came after seeing him speak in 1932. Triumph of the Will followed in 1934.

There’s a theme of loyalty, self-sacrifice and team work – traits that apply equally as well to the British - but also respect for nature and one’s truth – can the restless “Sea” of Diotima the Dancer (Riefenstahl) ever be matched with the Rock of immovable masculinity that is “The Friend” (Louis Trenker)? The film worships the great outdoors, health and efficiency and as such is an extension of German kulturfilm as evidenced by Riefenstahl’s previous film, Ways to Strength and Beauty (1925).

The themes were part of contemporary cultural currency and whatever Leni and indeed Dr Fanck did later is a whole other story: their time of dark compromise was yet to come.

The Holy Mountain begins with an half hour section introducing the two protagonists and leading up to their eventual meeting and love at first sight. Diotima is seen dancing against the natural backgrounds of sea and sky and Fanck cannot get enough of her movement. 

Dancer on the shore

Riefenstahl was a highly-trained dancer whose professional career had been curtailed through injury forcing her interest in the less-demanding medium of film. Her energetic contemporary dance movement is perfectly attuned to the environments and she matches choreography with radiant smiles and a manic alertness.

We begin to get glimpses of The Ski Master/Karl climbing through the snow and heading towards what looks like the Matterhorn. Trenker has a craggy masculinity to match the mountains; he looks like a pro with snow-tanned skin and sure-footed confidence on slope and tone.

The Ski Master and his climbing partner/student Vigo (Ernst Petersen) go to see Diotima dance and both are entranced. Karl leaves early but Vigo remains and meets the dancer after placing a flower (Edelweiss?) in her car. Virgo is smitten but Diotima is merely charmed… giving him her scarf as a thank you.

Gradually the film moves the dancer and climber together as they work their ways around the mountain until finally meeting with an instant recognition of exactly who the other is. Their relationship is solidified very quickly. Soon they talk of getting married on the most beautiful mountain in the Alps and Karl spends as much time as possible in his search for a natural wonder to fit their human love.

Meeting on the Matterhorn

Meanwhile Diotima supports Vigo in the local Alpine sports cheering him on in a spectacular ski jumping competition – camera’s slowed down in the manner of Riefenstahl’s later work on the 1936 Olympics. He beats his rival Colli (Friedrich Schneider) on the last jump before the two renew their contest with the long distance race.  Here again the “nature photography of Dr Fanck and his Freiburg School is superb. Hans Schneeberger and  Sepp Allgeier were Fanck’s main cameramen for this exciting set piece which featured the aforementioned expert skiers.

Jumping in slow motion and off piste filming

The action is real enough with twists, turns and tumbles galore all ending in a dizzying victory for the young man. Diotima is delighted for him and the two wander drunk on the adrenalin to a small cottage where Vigo asks for a favour in return for his victory. He buries his head on Diotima’s lap in an action more familial than sexual: he is too immature to properly express his sexuality to the older woman and she does not regard him as anything other than a sweet child… and yet; that’s not quite how it looks… Descending from the peak, at just the wrong moment, Karl spots what looks like love-making and falls back out of view instantly shattered.

Later Vigo visits his friend’s mother (Frieda Richard) whom he confesses his love too not knowing that Diotima and his tutor are already planning to marry… or at least they were. Karl arrives and tells him that he must accompany him on the most dangerous climb in the territory: the North Face of Mount Santo. It’s getting dark, the weather is changing and this could be dangerous but he agrees all the same: they are friends with loyalty.

The climb begins

Diotima prepares for her evening performance and is completely unaware that her lover has got the wrong impression or indeed that she may have encouraged Vigo (probably… the Sea does pull up on a lot of different beaches after all…). The men begin their treacherous ascent and the narrative clicks from their struggle to the gradual realisation of friends and lover that they are missing.

Will envy twist Friend’s passion towards brutal revenge or will love triumph over all: friendship, loyalty and indomitable will… It’s Germanic all right but that doesn’t necessarily make it fascistic.

Inevitably the stunning scenery overpowers the performances and sometimes Riefenstahl is more of a dancer than a film actress when faced with the duty of trying to show elevated emotion in the midst of so much natural turmoil. Fanck paces his narrative very well and the closing section is as genuinely tense as the opening section is peacefully pastoral… In the end The Holy Mountain is a poem and not a docu-drama on outdoor pursuits with amazing cinematography worth the price of admission alone.

The original score was from Edmund Meisel but the version I watched featured a modern composition from Aljoscha Zimmermann for the 2002 restoration. It’s available on DVD from Eureka’s Masters of Cinema series from Amazon and includes Ray Müller's three hour documentary The Wonderful, Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl - the clue is in the title...