La bella maledetta

Leni Riefenstahl's directorial debut (she had been a widely recognised and praised dancer in the 20's and gone on to be one of the most well known silent movie stars, working with Arnold Fanck and G W Pabst on a series of mountain films). Here she shows that magnificent eye exciting visuals probably attainted while shooting up in the mountains with Fanck, and which would go on to make Triumph of the Will the most stunning, famous propaganda film of all time, and Olympia, her film of the 1936 Berlin Olympics the single most famous (and incredible visually) sports documentary of all time.

In The Blue Light you will find some of the most stunning visuals in early sound cinema, a gorgeous score and the magnetic, sensual screen presence of Leni herself in the lead role of Junta, the outcast who lives among the crystals in a mountain high above a fairytale village. It is a delight to watch, and one of the great treasures of early sound cinema, in my opinion (though the best things in it have more in common with the dancelike visual grace of the silent screen, than the stagey, wordy early talkies from Hollywood).

Leni Riefenstahl filmed "Das blaue Licht" before becoming involved with the Nazis. She changed her story of how she worked on the film so often that today, it is extraordinarily difficult to cut through her web of lies and halftruths and to arrive at something that seems at least plausible. Fortunately, we have Hanno Loewy's work on 'Das Menschenbild des fanatischen Fatalisten, Oder: Leni Riefenstahl, Béla Balázs und Das Blaue Licht' (available on the server of Constance university). Three things seem beyond doubt. First, Riefenstahl's involvement in directing 'Das blaue Licht' was peripheral. The director was Béla Balázs. When the film was reissued in Nazi-Germany, Riefenstahl had him eliminated from the credits (a later re-issue in Austria in the 1950s mentioned him again, but only as an assistant). Second, in December 1933, Riefenstahl authorised Julius Streicher - the notorious antisemite and Gauleiter of Nuremberg - to deprive 'the Jew Béla Balacs' (sic!) of any income from the film he might in future claim. She must truly have been a nasty piece of work. Third, much of the cut of the film and at least part of the cinematography was done by her, and this is stunning. The way Riefenstahl photographed the Alpine scenery and the use she made of light and shadow and of mist and clouds are unsurpassed.

The plot is less exciting, though suggestive, and it evidently speaks to modern sensibilities concerned with the destruction of nature. The central element is the betrayal of a feral young girl (Junta, played by Riefenstahl, whom the villagers believe to be a witch) by a painter visiting the Alps. The painter discovers the girl's secret (a cave full of cristals that give off a blue light when the moon is full), tells the villagers about this, and they destroy the cave for material gain. The symbolism is clear: this is a kind of rape both of nature and of the girl. No wonder she falls to her death after having discovered what happened.

I am not convinced of the idea that it was the way the film depicts village life that made it attractive to the Nazis. The villagers are not upstanding Germanic types that conform to the national-socialist 'blood-and-soil' ideal; rather, they are the villains: narrow-minded and out for profit in a perfectly capitalist way. Also, the one positive figure in 'Das blaue Licht' - the girl Junta - does not even speak German but only Italian, and she is betrayed by a German. What helped Riefenstahl's career in the Third Reich was the fact that the film demonstrated her talent for cinematography. Moreover, she was good-looking in the way the Nazis approved - no wonder Hitler liked her.

Leni Riefenstahl, soon to become notorious as Hitler's favorite director, made her directorial debut with this vivid and beautiful film. It tells the tale of a mysterious blue light on top of a mountain that lures young men to their deaths. The only person who can reach it is a young outcast played by Riefenstahl herself. She is exquisitely beautiful - so much so that I am amazed Hollywood did not beckon.

It's all a bit Freudian and far too slow at times, but the photography is so sublime that it doesn't matter. Black and White has seldom looked so beautiful and the use of light is magnificent. Riefenstahl certainly knew how to film and light faces (including her own), a talent that would later enhance her propaganda films for the Nazis. This film is more than an historical curiosity - it is quite a work of art.

`Das blaue Licht' (The Blue Light) tells the legend of Junta, a strange woman living in the Alpine heights above a Tyrolean village, who has privileged access to a cave of crystals. On full-moon nights a blue light emanates from this secret grotto, luring young men from the valley to seek out the force of the radiant beam. Their quest invariably end in death and causes the towns-people to vilify junta. A painter from Vienna, Vigo, befriends the outcast woman. He becomes her protector and falls in love with her. Following her one blue-lit night, he discovers the way to the cave. He draws a map, thinking that the safe passage to the grotto will serve the best interest of both Junta and the villagers. The towns-people arm themselves with tools and climb to the cave, plundering the valuable crystals and celebrating their new found fortune.

Riefenstahl's film -(fantasy) sanctifies nature and reflects a fascination with beauty and harmony. The photography of this picture is visually stunning, and Riefenstahl's masculine beauty and physical abilities make her the perfect choice for the role of Junta. `Das blaue Licht' is one of the last great Weimar films and a ‘must see' not only for movie buffs.

Enchanting! But beware of the silent version!

This film was made in a sound and a silent version, as there were some theaters at the time that were still not equipped for sound. Unfortunately, it is the silent version that is being widely sold. This version is vastly inferior. The sound version is a hauntingly beautiful film. I have a sound version, but it is of poor quality and many subtitles are difficult to read. This film should be remastered. There are superb quality short excerpts from the film in The Wonderful Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl.

Leni Riefenstahl passed away yesterday at the age of 101. She died in her sleep. At the age of 100, she was still scuba diving!

She may have been the greatest motion picture director of all time, but she was forbidden from making motion pictures for over half a century, an incalculable loss to the art of film. I hope that they issue restored versions of her movies now, particularly my favorite, "The Blue Light", a fairy tale set in the Alps, a movie that she - a young girl then - wrote, directed, and starred in!

Note: I previously posted part of this commentary a couple of years ago (see below), but it was posted as "Anonymous" for some reason.