About trapped potentials

photo: bayerische staatsbibliothek bildarchiv

On top of everything else, what is happening these days, weeks and months on the streets of Serbia refers to the necessity of unlocking trapped/locked potential. It is a demanding and undisguisedly turbulent process that takes place both in the cognitive and emotional fields. Like any radical and revolutionary change that is just waiting to be unleashed beneath the surface, it is a transformative experience that carries, at least in principle, the seeds of extensive identity evolution on both the micro and macro levels. And as the laws of synchronicity dictate, in the background of these events, at the recently concluded Documentary Film Festival DOK #7, two films called for the unlocking of trapped potentials: one essentially conventional, the other post-postmodern deconstructivist (within its genre and against it). In different ways, but always in the desire to depict the world and civilization as faithfully as possible, to determine the state of that world and that civilization, those two films represent, in short, the best possible examples of film practice, the first in the domain of traditionalist biographical documentaries, and the second in the sphere of documentary productions that thoroughly reexamine and "shake" the very essence of the dominant documentary expression.

photo: vincent productions

RIEFENSHTALL

Leaving aside the minutes (almost two hours), Riefenstahl (Riefenstahl) is a biographical and problematic documentary film about, of course, Leni Riefenstahl, a striking director's name in the era of Nazi Germany, but also about a cinematic treasure that, from a filmophile, but also from a wider historical perspective, it really is. It is, namely, an almost perfect example(s) of its kind. A film with obviously big authorial ambitions, Riefenstahl presents the biographical and factual framework precisely enough, so that the viewer, even if he is less knowledgeable, gets a clear idea of ​​who and what Leni Riefenstahl was, and what are the basic and key determinants of her work as a director and author, and then, just as importantly, he gets unequivocal information about her worldview and her temperament. These aspects are, of course, continuously interwoven, reshaping each other on the fly. On the other hand, Riefenstahl without twisting it, it problematizes the fact that Leni (and not only her) referred to the fact that she did not know what was happening in Nazi Germany, which is a kind of reflection of personal and individual insolence and an attempt to bluff. In the case of Leni Riefenstahl, a person of unquestionably great and concrete film talent, this tactic was not only reflected in the instinctive defense against name-calling and reference to her Nazi past, and in keeping silent about the horrors of that era, but she relaxed and persistently continued to participate in the consolidation of the foundations of Hitler's Nazi rule. This film, fortunately, "comes" from the certainly unusual, colorful, magnetically attractive and vibrant personality of Leni Riefenstahl, who for decades defended her own right to feigned ignorance and the subsequent muddying of the (already very cloudy) waters, extremely combatively and courageously, and even in the public space.

photo: vincent productions

In the sense of Gintergras onion peeling, a documentary film Riefenstahl by Andrés Fayello, premiered in the official program of the Venice Film Festival, gently exposes, say, a good part of Leni Riefenstahl's public personality (far from being the first film of its kind about a Nazi icon) in the post-war period. But this film is interesting primarily because it eloquently reminds us of what is persistently trying to be hidden (and what we hear in this film from the mouth of Leni Riefenstahl herself, and that, one would say, in a rather sincere and not only instinctive attempt at self-defense), namely, that support for Hitler and the world he tried to create for the exalted Germanic race was plebiscite and unquestionable. This is followed by another extremely important reminder that, in the meantime, has acquired the clear outlines of a myth: the process of (official) post-war de-Nazification of Germany at lower command levels, and therefore also at lower scales of responsibility (especially among civilians), was conducted quite casually and protocol-wise. At one point, the viewer is faced with the impression that, with the passing of time, Leni Riefenstahl became a pop star in post-war Germany, much bigger than she was as a film author in the days when she created her masterpieces. Blue light, Triumph of the will i Olympics. She managed to - let's put it that way - turn that star status into a coin in a way similar to today's influencers and stars who casually vegetate on the hump and at the expense of their devotees. Another major advantage of this film quickly becomes clear - the public life of Leni Riefenstahl is abundantly documented, and the core of this biographical documentary consists of excerpts from public performances (television appearances and the like), as well as remnants and margins of earlier films on this very topic. From the detailed presentation of her confusing stubborn nature, a truly contrite and truly frightened Riefenstahl emerges, who, as time went on, became more and more attached to her own delusions, whether they were sincere or simply pretended and coerced. However, what remains as the prevailing impression after two hours of this documentary is precisely the reminder of the unlocking of trapped potential. It primarily refers to the release of our own potentials to understand how the lagoons in which one's worldview thoughts move and are shaped will forever, in fact, remain inaccessible, or at least difficult to pass. In an essay by George Steinett Why thinking makes you sad we find a quote that fits the idea of ​​the movie Riefenstahl: "The opacity of thought prevents us from knowing with certainty what another human being is thinking. As I said before, we have no sure insight into other people's thoughts. We don't pay enough attention to this monstrosity. She should terrify us. There is no closeness or analytical cunning that can equip us for "mind reading" or can provide it for us. Neither hypnosis, nor psychiatric techniques, nor the so-called truth serums cannot verifiably bring other people's thoughts into the light of day”. And it is especially impossible in the case of superior minds like Leni Riefenstahl (1902–2003) was: not only a witness to a disgusting time and a disgusting regime, but also an active and willing participant in the parade of dishonor and crime.

photo: promo

ABOUT THE HERO

On the other hand, metaphorically, we have a documentary film that may not be, and this elusiveness of belonging to a sphere that is clearly aspired to is the special value of this work, especially since the film About the hero (About a Hero) leads to the aforementioned unlocking of our own trapped potentials to understand what today's documentary film can and must be. If we understand that everything changes except the proverbial groan (and stones), and recall the easily verifiable fact that all documentary films - with the exception of those based exclusively on archival material - are acted in the same way that we ourselves act and act ourselves every day, it is not difficult to accept that this Danish-American film, directed by cinematographer Piotr Winiewicz, is in many ways acted, although it remains documentary. It's a bit complicated. Let's clarify. This is a film based on a script written by an artificial intelligence (aptly named Casper), which, after learning about the work of the famous Werner Herzog (who will appear as himself at the end of the film), is tasked with creating a story in the manner of Herzog's films. The machine came to the story of the disappearance and suspicious suicide of an apparently haunted and unhappy factory worker in a small, quiet and mysterious Danish town. That story brings glimpses not only of Herzog's easily recognizable (mytho)poetics, most often directed towards the exploration of souls in moments of serious turmoil, but also the clear influences of David Lynch (especially Blue velvet), David Cronenberg (because how else to understand and read the scenes of a woman who wants to make love with possessed household/kitchen appliances?).

photo: promo

To make things somewhat clearer, the film About the hero it is not an ideological and stylistic papacy, but a really fascinating, inspired, creative and very cinematic postmodern experiment which, as such, has to painstakingly deconstruct everything that comes in its metaphorical path. Following the leitmotif of this dual presentation, we can point out how this film questions the essence of the scope, reach and dominant style of documentary film today. He explores what the concept of authorship means in the era of gaming and the intemperance of artificial intelligence. About the hero is a film that inspires and calls for reflection, although due to its libertarian playfulness in the last minutes, it backs itself into a corner and, due to the lack of room for maneuver, ends with an overly easy metaphor. Which, however, does not diminish its value.