The marriage oF Fritz Lang and Thea von Harbou might not have been the most harmonious but their professional partnership represents one of the most outstanding director/writer combinations in the history of Cinema.
The monumental 'Siegfried/Kriemhilds Rache' has been adapted from the original 13th Century epic poem together with ideas from the operas of Wagner and the play by Friedrich Hebbels, in a production of which von Harbou had played Kriemhild. All of UFA's artistic, technical and financial resources were brought into play to provide this tribute to the German nation during troubled times. Ironically, although now regarded as an undisputed classic, the film was not universally popular and 'Kriemhild's Rache' was not shown during the Nazi era as it was deemed too nihilistic!
Lang was blessed to have some of the finest art directors, costume designers and cameramen at his disposal and was to enjoy a continuity and loyalty from an united team which he seldom if ever experienced in Hollywoodland. The paintings of Caspar David Friedrich and Arnold Boecklin inspired the landscapes and the Kriemhild of Margarete Schon resembles a portrait by Klimt. Lang's musical taste was pretty dismal and he was known to loathe Wagner but the score here by Gottfried Huppertz is suitably majestic.
Film historian Georges Sadoul has referred to Part 1 as 'architectural' and Part 11 as 'dynamic' which seems a fair description. Dominated by the all-consuming hatred of Kriemhild the second part is darker in tone whilst the extended battle scenes show Lang's preponderance for violence and cruelty with an unforgettable final conflagration filmed simultaneously by sixteen cameras. It comes as no surprise to learn that it was Lang himself who fired the arrow with magnesium powder on its head that ignited the blaze.
Lang manipulated his actors' movements like a puppet master which results in stylised performances lacking a certain humanity but the one-dimensional characters are in keeping with the epic mode. The stillness of Margarete Schon is mesmerising whilst Hans Adelbert von Schlettow is a formidable Hagen. Top marks must go to Rudolf Klein-Rogge for despite Otto Genath's grotesque make up, he makes Etzel hugely sympathetic.
A miracle of the silent screen this opus continues to haunt not least because, in the words of Thea von Harbou, it depicts 'the inexorability with which the first guilt entails the last atonement'.
The monumental 'Siegfried/Kriemhilds Rache' has been adapted from the original 13th Century epic poem together with ideas from the operas of Wagner and the play by Friedrich Hebbels, in a production of which von Harbou had played Kriemhild. All of UFA's artistic, technical and financial resources were brought into play to provide this tribute to the German nation during troubled times. Ironically, although now regarded as an undisputed classic, the film was not universally popular and 'Kriemhild's Rache' was not shown during the Nazi era as it was deemed too nihilistic!
Lang was blessed to have some of the finest art directors, costume designers and cameramen at his disposal and was to enjoy a continuity and loyalty from an united team which he seldom if ever experienced in Hollywoodland. The paintings of Caspar David Friedrich and Arnold Boecklin inspired the landscapes and the Kriemhild of Margarete Schon resembles a portrait by Klimt. Lang's musical taste was pretty dismal and he was known to loathe Wagner but the score here by Gottfried Huppertz is suitably majestic.
Film historian Georges Sadoul has referred to Part 1 as 'architectural' and Part 11 as 'dynamic' which seems a fair description. Dominated by the all-consuming hatred of Kriemhild the second part is darker in tone whilst the extended battle scenes show Lang's preponderance for violence and cruelty with an unforgettable final conflagration filmed simultaneously by sixteen cameras. It comes as no surprise to learn that it was Lang himself who fired the arrow with magnesium powder on its head that ignited the blaze.
Lang manipulated his actors' movements like a puppet master which results in stylised performances lacking a certain humanity but the one-dimensional characters are in keeping with the epic mode. The stillness of Margarete Schon is mesmerising whilst Hans Adelbert von Schlettow is a formidable Hagen. Top marks must go to Rudolf Klein-Rogge for despite Otto Genath's grotesque make up, he makes Etzel hugely sympathetic.
A miracle of the silent screen this opus continues to haunt not least because, in the words of Thea von Harbou, it depicts 'the inexorability with which the first guilt entails the last atonement'.