The Rape of Europa

The Rape of Europa is a fascinating documentary that tells of the story of the theft, destruction, and in some cases saving of art during World War II. Narrated by Joan Allen the film takes you through the Nazi plundering of paintings in Poland, France and other countries (especially by Nazi art collectors like Hitler and Goering) to the efforts by citizenry to save museum pieces in Paris and Leningrad, to the unfortunate destruction of Renaissance architectural wonders during allied bombings in Italy and the German army demolishing various important Russian structures in the east. It also goes into efforts that are still going on to track down pieces since missing, and tells of the work to give back personal effects to families of Jews, items the Nazis stole without thinking twice from people they considered inhuman.

All this is told with a delicate balancing act, reminding the viewer of the far greater tragedy of the war: the tens of millions of lives lost, most of them civilians. The misfortune of art during the war is not even close to that level of tragedy, but that doesn't mean it should be ignored. Art is part of one's culture and means a lot to great number of people. This is a story that deserves to be told, and though maybe this documentary goes in a few too many directions I found it quite interesting to see this perspective of the War that people rarely talk about.

I have just returned from this film and am another satisfied customer. It always feels a bit strange going to the cinema to see a documentary, but docs always turn out to be so much better and more fulfilling than the blockbusters. A real whirlwind of emotions, the Rape of Europa is something in which everyone living in the western world has a stake. The destructive force of war on human beings and those things which are crucial to our humanity, our art, is put into a perspective that is about as balanced as we can hope to get. Many positive things I would say have already been said, so I will offer one criticism: the city of Dresden, once called the "Florence on the Elbe," was not mentioned in the film. As perhaps the worst bombed city of the war, and a city which had no military value whatsoever but was of incalculable worth culturally, I felt this was a major omission. Of course, the film covered an amazing amount of ground, and the Dresden bombing remains a touchy subject for many, so I can comprehend the constraints of time and the need to avoid charged tangents. However, as someone who has lived in that city (many parts of which remained ruins until only recently), I still would have liked to have heard it mentioned. That said, the film was wonderful on a whole. If only everything they showed in the cinemas were half as good.

"The Rape of Europa" is a documentary film about the Nazis' concerted, organized, and methodical theft of the art patrimony of Europe during the Second World War, and the film tilts heavily toward the Nazis' theft of art from Jewish collections. Ultimately, this emphasis on the anti-Jewishness of the Nazi program is the film's weakness. While the documentary appears to shine a light on the loathsome Nazis, there is also a detectable anti-German subtext to the film and, in particular, the Austrians come in for muted scorn.

No one can come to the defense of the megalomaniac Adolf Hitler, so why do some people continue to go out of their way to slander him as a "bad artist." Let's be honest here, that disturbed man was without a doubt a better artist/painter than 99.9 percent of all of us reading this IMDb forum. Has anyone ever heard of Winston Churchill being described as a "bad painter?" To slap the "bad artist" tag on Hitler comes across as mere propaganda, and propaganda always casts doubt on the ultimate truth of a work of non-fiction. There is a also a noticeable tone of artistic condescension in this film, especially in interview segments with author Lynn H. Nicholas.

The film touches on the controversy surrounding Gustav Klimt's portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer. Bloch-Bauer herself wanted the portrait to go to the Austrian State Gallery upon the death of her husband, but when he fled Austria the Nazis apparently confiscated the painting. While the painting did eventually make its way to the Austrian State Gallery after the war, it was decided in the 1990's to remove the painting from the that gallery and award it to Bloch-Bauer's remaining relatives. They subsequently sold this family heirloom for something in the neighborhood of 100 million dollars. So much for honoring Block-Bauer's bequest. One might get the impression that the whole affair was not about truth or justice or rightful ownership, but about money.

This film would be a good primer for those who have heard relatively little about the destruction wrought on Europe and its culture by World War II. However, there must be hundreds of other documentary films that touch on the subject in a better way. I found Joan Allen's narration to be particularly weak, her lightweight voice lacking the authority required in a serious documentary film. She's certainly no Alexander Scourby.

I do not think that anyone anywhere can adequately convey the hell on earth that was the Second World War. This narrowly focused film only confirms that view.

"There are a hundred thousand men born to live and die who will not be as valuable to the world as one canvas." Sherwood Anderson

The Nazis disposed of more than 6 million Jews; we may never know how many works of art they plundered from the great museums and private residences of Europe, but it's safe to estimate those works in the millions as well. The estimable documentary Rape of Europa gives a sometimes beautiful account of the loss at the hands of Adolph Hitler, a failed artist with a dream of building a world-class monument in his Austrian hometown of Linz, and his sybaritic lieutenant, Hermann Goering.

The atrocities are counterbalanced by the heroic efforts of Europeans and American Monuments Men to save the works, the former spiriting the art away to alpine hideouts and the latter helping allied bombers avoid museums and scrupulously cataloging the returning pieces. The transportation of the fragile Winged Victory from the Louvre to the countryside is more exciting than any modern CGI masterpiece.

Almost as an afterthought, the film shows the incomprehensible destruction of churches and homes whose ancient architectures are cultural museums themselves. I had forgotten the extent of the damage inflicted by both the Germans and the Allies on medieval cities.

In a tone of reverence, a bit like the understatement of Night and Fog, narrator Joan Allen recounts the horror of Nazis carelessly trucking away priceless masterpieces during invasions and bombing bridges and museums vindictively as they retreat. Meanwhile an obscure clerk is heroically marking down the transactions so that 60 years later works can be returned to their rightful owners.

Gustav Klimt's "Gold Portrait of Frau Bloch-Bauer," which opens the documentary, eventually is returned to its rightful owners and later fetches $135 million at auction. Such a transaction is a crass vindication of the atrocities, but such symbolism is all we may have left to remind us, as this documentary so incisively does, that demons roamed the earth stealing the soul out of whole civilizations.

Wow, it is so tempting to comment on how the release of this film casts a dark shadow over the destruction of Babylonian manuscripts in Bagdad, Iraq a couple years back. I will not, though.

Hitler, according to one of the talking heads in this film, "was not a bad painter at all, but he certainly was not great or innovative, either." That's well-stated, in my opinion. Of the three artists applying for the scholarship, he was easily the least talented. This fact is suggested, as well. I suspect that while he was not an artist of note himself, the most that could be said was that he did have an eye for artwork. Whether that would be a "remarkable" eye remains to be suggested, but it hardly matters.

There are a few scenes in this film that are so incredibly harrowing, my mind had wandered into thoughts of how destructive was the damage in Europe: peculiar that that's precisely the objective of "good art," that it causes the mind and imagination to wander as such.

The last twenty minutes offers a noticeable glimmer of hope (and it is not a too-little-too-late message, either): Give Back. At least that's what I heard.

That said, this film offers a novel voice to the narrative presented. Thumbs up.