La Montagne sacrée

Some superb cinematography is the only thing that saves this fairly turgid melodrama from being completely ordinary. Given the stunning scenery featured here it would be difficult for even the most workmanlike of cinematographers to come away without some spectacular shots, but in the hands of a veritable army of credited cinematographers we are left with a succession of images that will remain in the memory long after other details of the film have been forgotten.

Leni Riefenstahl, who would later become notorious for directing Nazi propaganda films for Hitler, plays the heroine, a dancer who falls in love with a dashing skier. The skier's young friend, also dashing but in a less mature way, also falls for her and both men mistakenly believe the young man's love is reciprocated – a misunderstanding that leads to tragedy.

When she's called upon to emote, Riefenstahl overacts horrendously, flinging her arms into the air, half-swooning against any nearby piece of furniture or wall, and hysterically biting her hands when she's not throwing her head into them. She really is shocking and, given everyone else's more naturalistic style, she ends up coming across as a highly-strung diva who's misplaced her happy pills, which I don't believe is what the director is looking for.

Anyway, it's nature, and not Riefenstahl, who is the real star. The film heavily symbolises the links her character (the sea) and her lover (the stone) share with nature, scenes of which the camera seems to gorge itself on, suggesting a reverence that lends the most natural of phenomenon an almost mythical quality. The director juxtaposes the vast open spaces of the mountains and the sea with extreme close-ups of the principal's faces to offer an insight into their emotions and emphasise the disparities that will drive them apart.

And if you happen to catch this film, bear in mind – as the film beseeches you to – that there is no trick photography in use here: that man really is peering over the edge of a sheer cliff with the front of his skis in mid-air, and the cameraman really is hurtling down the ski-slopes with his subjects as he captures how it feels to take part in a rugged ski race. Forget the dreary romance, these scenes – and the breathtaking shots in which we see climbers pinned to mountains at the far left of the picture and silhouetted against a vast sky - are the moments that breathe life into this film.

The simple storyline is about Diotima, an inspirational dancer played by Leni Riefenstahl, and her love story with Karl, a tough mountain lover who, in the best German romantic tradition, finds the Absolute climbing the highest peaks. The greatness of the movie is in the winter mountain scenery and in the filming of ski competitions. Some of the filming was done in Upper Engadin, in Sils-Maria, a small Swiss village about 6 miles west of St. Moritz. In one scene it is clearly recognizable the Mount Margna and in a few others, the village of Sils-Maria is visible with the Hotel Alpenrose and the Chesa Zuan (both are still standing and look remarkably similar). Some other filming is probably from the nearby Val Fex, and there is also a beautiful view of the Silsersee with Maloja visible in the distance.

Considering the limited technical support available for winter alpine filming in 1926, it is remarkable that the photography is mostly crisp and engaging, and that it shows the peculiar light quality of Upper Engadin.

Riefenstahl's acting is fantastic but inevitably dated. She is expressive and intense, with a bit of influence from Weimar Expressionism. She outclasses all other actors, who appear unidimensional.

A movie strongly recommended, if only for the incredible quality of alpine photography and for the timeless Riefenstahl performance.

I finally had the stamina to get past the first ten minutes of "The Holy Mountain" (original title: "Der Heilige Berg") (1926), whose first ten minutes were, for me, so artsyphartsy (with the exception of the exceptional photography which was mesmerizing!) that it took the third try over a four day period to progress. The first ten minutes or so actually is entitled "Prologue". Starring Leni Riefenstahl, Luis Trenker, Ernst Petersen, and three other minor characters, plus a lot of participants in village scenes and ski race scenes, though these are the actors, the humans who make the story go - - - the genuine star of this film is the incredible photography of cinematographers Sepp Algeier, Albert Benitz, Helmar Lerski, and Hans Schneeberger. The story is wrapped in a literary framework exploring the supremacy of Nature, the nature of Supreme Beauty, and the fact that some humans, though they might embrace one of those two as supreme beliefs, nevertheless are wired as all humans to have nearly incomprehensible, inexorable, and overwhelming emotional reactions to human love. In other words, by the end, forget philosophy, all humans are animals that behave with instincts, emotions, and desires difficult to overcome and channel into one simple philosophical way of living. The two men, Trenker and Petersen, both fall for the same girl, Riefenstahl - who, not conveniently at all, falls for both men, though in one scene near the end we see her say, "Vigo (Petersen) is just a child", the implication being that she'll settle for Trenker...and we as viewers are going, "Really?"

The story gets going after the first ten minutes. It develops very nicely; but after a half hour or so, it revs up in skiing scenes to a hot point. THEN, it really gets moving. The ski scenes are wonderfully done, but, again, it's the cinematography that is riveting, not necessarily the story. THEN, THEN...the story for about just short of an hour till end is heart-racing and a thriller. Extremely well done at this point, the human story is ever as gripping as the photography. Finally, the direction under Arnold Fanck and Leni Riefenstahl herself has immersed itself in its job of storytelling, still wrapped in beautiful photography, but minus the artsyphartsy goo that's been cramping the film's style.

This is the first of Riefenstahl and Fanck's supposed "mountain" films. In its own way it's a masterpiece, but I must tell you - for me, it was a challenge to get into this thing. I'm very glad I did, because the ensuing tragedy is Shakespearean, if not Sophoclean - with a caveat... The very ending - a small group of intertitles - is a great let-down, in my opinion, because the fact that Fanck makes the story suddenly ONLY about loyalty sounds a good deal like a call to personal nature needing to be politically sacrosanct to all things in life - a loyalty to what all humans must believe, in loyalty. Well, loyalty to what? I believe the film in its overall telling ends on a vague note about the issue. We've seen a sort of loyalty suddenly unleashed in trying to save the life of the best friend Trenker has, where just beforehand he'd betrayed him by taking that best friend up the dangerous face of a mountain during a horrific storm - this, to see if he'll make it or not - jealousy being the motive. But the intertitles at the end aren't referencing that segment of the film necessarily, but seem to imply a bigger, perhaps, political message. I saw a very ambiguous take-away when I finished watching.

The "friends" and their love, Leni, may have to answer to a higher power when they get past the veil - based on story in the film.

This is a Kino Video release from 2002.

The dancer Diotima (Leni Riefenstahl) meets the engineer and skier Karl (Luis Trenker) in his cottage in the mountains and they fall in love for each other and have a love affair. When Karl's young friend Vigo (Ernst Petersen) meets the dancer after a presentation and she gives her scarf with a smile to him, the infatuated Vigo mistakenly believes she is in love with him. Karl sees Diotima innocently caressing Vigo and he believes that Diotima is betraying him with his friend. Karl decides to commit suicide and invites Vigo to climb the dreadful Santo Mountain North face during the winter thaw with him. His best friend joins Karl in a tragic journey.

"Der Heilige Berg" is a melodramatic and tragic story of a triangle of love among a dancer that loves the sea; a skilled skier and engineer that loves the rock; and his young friend that loves the dancer. The plot is absolutely naive in 2010, but after all this is a 1926 film when the society had other moral concepts. The infamous Leni Riefenstahl, who directed the Third Reich's propaganda for Hitler one decade later, performs the dancer and pivot of the tragedy. Her dance is weird and clumsy but this is a silent movie and the viewer never knows what she was listening while dancing. If the romance is not interesting in the present days, the cinematography and the camera work are stunning considering the size, weight and technical resources of the equipment in this period. All shots outdoor were actually made in the mountains, including the ski race and the scene on the cliff, in the most beautiful parts of the Alps over the course of one and half years. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "A Montanha Sagrada" ("The Holy Mountain")

If you have never experienced the 1920's German genre of the mountain film, there is no better introduction than this. In fact it may be the only one you need unless you truly love the genre as most of the films are carbon copies of each other. What gives this film added interest is the debut of Leni Riefenstahl as a performer (and occasional director).

Riefenstahl began her career as a dancer in the Isadora Duncan mold until a knee injury ended her career. Nevertheless she does a fair amount of dancing in this film especially in the beginning. While it may look somewhat silly today and Riefenstahl is far from the prototype of today's dancers, it is an excellent example of what Duncan's free form dancing was like and some of it is remarkably effective. Director Arnold Fanck wrote the screenplay in three days after being given a photo of Riefenstahl by co-star Louis Trenker and so began her brilliant and highly controversial career.

The story (standard for this kind of film) is the classic love triangle with a lot of German mysticism about Man and Nature thrown in to give it "depth". The real star of the film is the stunning cinematography by Hans Schneeberger (how appropriate) and Sepp Allgeier. There are incredible shots of breathtaking beauty of mountain crags and vistas taken in what seem like impossible positions for a cameraman. The actors were really there and labored under the harsh conditions as recalled by Riefenstahl in a clip from a documentary which is also included (although professional climbers were used in the more harrowing sequences).

I found myself engrossed by the obvious sincerity of the film despite the shallowness of the storyline. The print is in fairly good shape with the proper tinting restored which enhances the mountain scenes. The new musical score by Aljoscha Zimmerman strikes just the right balance between Classical and New Age depending on what the story requires. While certainly not a film that will appeal to everyone, it is worth seeing for the astonishing photography and for the young Riefenstahl who is radiant in her film debut..For more reviews visit The Capsule Critic.