Many newspapers carried reports about the bold venture. There were so many women in the group that the accompanying photographs failed to highlight Riefenstahl. One picture shows everyone standing at the railing shortly before the ship left the shore. Above their heads is a large banner that reads: “Universal-Fanck-Greenland-Filmexpedition Sponsored by Carl Laemmle ‘It can be done.’ ”35 However, it would prove difficult to live up to this watchword.
When their ship dropped them off in the ice after eleven days of travel and headed back to Europe, they began to see that this would be no ordinary filming. They were far away from civilization as they knew it, and they could not simply take off to a luxury hotel for a few days to rest up from the filming. They were stranded in inhospitable surroundings. The Eskimos were very friendly, but it was difficult to communicate with them. Their customs and ways of life were totally alien to both the Americans and the Europeans. There were neither huts nor houses, so the people who had come to make this movie pitched tents to be used for sleeping and eating, and also set up darkrooms, cages for the polar bears, and a kitchen. With the exception of a few Eskimo scenes, the filming had to be done entirely on ice floes and icebergs. Confronted with the bare, barren, and icy world of Greenland, the people on the expedition realized that Fanck was obsessed with his project and intended for his men to use the camera lens to look death in the eye.
While Fanck and Udet were looking around for suitable icebergs, Riefenstahl was getting herself a new lover: Hans Ertl, a mountain vagabond from Munich. He was considered one of the best ice climbers and a daredevil. “Of all the male members of the expedition, he was, without a doubt, the most attractive. . . . Once, when I wanted to paddle out with my boat all by myself, he came with me, in order, he said, to teach me the right way of paddling. A casual flirtation suddenly turned into passion. I forgot all my resolutions and was happy to be in love again.”36 Many years later Ertl enjoyed recalling this boat ride, during which he fondled Riefenstahl’s breasts from behind while she paddled the boat. His predecessor, cameraman and photographer Walter Riml, advised Ertl not to delude himself: “For Leni, young sportsmen like us are like candy, good to nibble at as long as it’s fun.”37 Ertl embodied the blend of adventurer, athlete, and technical artist that Riefenstahl found irresistible. Fanck seems to have been resigned to her frequent affairs and refrained from displays of anger. He also had better things to do, because the Arctic posed entirely new challenges for him. Here he could live out his somewhat sadistic ambition. He had Sepp Rist swim about twenty laps in a row in ice water when the temperature outside was well below freezing. Rist would drag himself out of the water and into his tent feeling “deathly weary.” During this brief time, his clothing froze to the point of cracking as he undressed. In the pictures that show him stepping out of the icy water, Rist looks like the incarnation of pain. His work with Fanck left him with a case of rheumatism that lasted the rest of his life. Expedition member Ernst Sorge remarked about Riefenstahl’s insistent desire to seek the spotlight on the ice: “Our daring Leni had no mind to lag behind the men, and anyone had only to remark, ‘I fancy that the water hereabouts is too cold to bathe,’ for her to spring in courageously next moment, although the film did not exact it of her.”38
Every day, Fanck used binoculars to seek out any iceberg that appeared safe for filming. The shooting dragged on for months, and the polar summer was coming to an end. By the afternoon, it was pitch black and ice cold. All night, there was a loud cracking of ice, which for the men brought back memories of the war because it sounded like “the continuous low roll and rumble of artillery fire on the western front.”39 Riefenstahl came down with a bad cold and a high fever. She lay trembling in her tent, racked with spasms. Once again, she had come to a point at which her body refused to cooperate, but there was no escaping this situation. Fanck ordered her to go on with the filming, even though it would have been an easy matter to have someone else stand in for her. She did as she was told, although she was writhing in unrelenting pain and feeling utterly miserable in this dark, icy world. She was about to film the scene with Udet in which she flies her plane into the wall of an iceberg; the plane bursts into flame, and she saves herself by jumping into the water. Because Riefenstahl did not know how to fly, Udet was concealed inside the plane to steer it and make sure that it caught fire. She closed her eyes during the filming, and when she opened them for a moment, she felt as though the iceberg were hurtling straight toward her with a boom. She plunged into the ice-cold water at lightning speed. After this test of endurance, she was allowed to go home to recuperate. The missing scenes could be reshot in the Swiss Alps. A Danish freighter brought her to Germany.
Politics had held little interest for Riefenstahl thus far, but that would change in February 1932. When she returned to Berlin after her cinematic tour with The Blue Light, she saw posters hanging everywhere with Adolf Hitler’s picture announcing his upcoming political rally, and she decided to attend the event in the Sports Palace. It was her very first political event, and as it turned out, the exact right one for her purposes. She was seated too far away to see Hitler, but she still gained a vivid sense of how this man was able to transfix his audience. It cannot have been his physical appearance that drew Riefenstahl to Hitler, because he was certainly not the type of man she went for. She favored well-built men with broad shoulders, weatherbeaten faces, and prominent muscles. Hitler, by contrast, was pallid and flabby and always carried a whip, which made him look oddly effeminate. It would be difficult to picture him on skis or in swim trunks. But she, like so many others, was unable to resist his spell, and commented: “No doubt about it; I was afflicted.”40 After making plans to travel to Greenland for five months of filming, she became fixated on the idea of meeting Hitler in person before she left, and wrote him this letter.
Dear Herr Hitler,
Recently I attended a political rally for the first time in my life. You were giving a speech at the Sports Palace. I must confess that you and the enthusiasm of your audience impressed me. I would like to meet you in person. Unfortunately, in the next few days I have to leave Germany for several months to make a film in Greenland, so meeting you prior to my departure will scarcely be possible. I do not even know whether this letter will ever reach you. I would be very glad to receive an answer from you.
Cordially, Leni Riefenstahl41
One day before she was scheduled to head to Greenland, the “adjutant to the Führer” called her on the telephone and invited her to visit his boss. The problem was that Hitler was not in Berlin, but up in Horumersiel on the North Sea. Riefenstahl had to decide whether to head to Hamburg or to Wilhelmshaven the following morning. Universal was planning to use the train ride to Hamburg as an opportunity to publicize S.O.S. Iceberg. The movie’s actors, director, and producer would be taking this trip together with journalists from Berlin, and interviews had been scheduled with the lead actors so as to make the film an event right from the start. The next morning, her fellow cast members waited for her in vain; she was on a train to Wilhelmshaven. Leni Riefenstahl had opted for the Führer.
For the particulars of her first personal encounter with Hitler, we have nothing to go on but her own descriptions. As she tells it, she was picked up at the train station by several men in a black Mercedes limousine. This royal treatment was sure to have flattered her. Hitler’s adjutant, Wilhelm Brückner, was knowledgeable about movies because he had worked as a film recording technician in the early 1920s, and he started the conversation by praising Riefenstahl’s artistry. He told her that he had taken a stroll on the beach with Hitler, and Hitler had told him that Riefenstahl’s dance in The Holy Mountain was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in a film. Later, Brückner was sorting the mail and happened to notice her letter. He brought the letter to Hitler, who read it and decided he wanted to meet Fräulein Riefenstahl. This flattering greeting made Riefenstahl realize that Hitler was an admirer of her art—and this did indeed prove to be the case. The Führer wa
s dressed in a suit and, fortunately, looked “like a normal person.”42 Hitler and Riefenstahl took a walk along the beach, and he continued to heap compliments on her. He told her that he had seen all her films. “ ‘The film,’ he said, ‘that made the strongest impression on me was The Blue Light, especially because it is unusual for a young woman to win out against the roadblocks and biases of the film industry.’ ”43
This was more than she had dared to dream: Hitler was a fan of hers, and an anti-capitalist feminist to boot. Riefenstahl now felt that “the ice was broken” and that they were in accord in their hatred of “the industry.” Because Hitler felt that he was a man with a bright future who was against industries and for ideals, he made her an offer: “Once we come to power, you have to make my films.”44 She informs readers of her memoirs that she told Hitler she was the wrong person for that job, that she rejected his “racial prejudices” and did not want him to misunderstand her visit, because she had “no interest whatsoever in politics.” If that was the case, it is hard to understand why she would visit him at all. Supposedly her statement made a very positive impression on him, and he replied that he wished the people around him would speak to him as bluntly as she did.45
During their walk on the beach, the Führer evidently took quite a shine to Fräulein Riefenstahl and invited her to spend the night, his reason being, we are told, that “I so rarely get the chance to speak to a genuine artist.”46 Now her scheduling was getting very tight, because the ship to Greenland would leave the following morning from Hamburg. Trifles like those were no problem as far as Hitler was concerned. “You will be there tomorrow morning. I will arrange for a plane,” he declared, then raced off to a campaign rally.47 Riefenstahl enjoyed a pleasant dinner with him and his myrmidons. Hitler declared that he was happy to have a woman join the group at long last. An evening stroll on the beach followed, and Hitler began to make advances to her. Riefenstahl’s lack of response threw him for a moment, but he quickly rebounded and declared: “I cannot love a woman until I have completed my task.”48 She did not say whether she was impressed by this remark. They slept in separate beds, and the following morning, an airplane awaited her. He kissed her hand as she left, wished her a good journey, and asked her to get in touch with him when she returned from Greenland. After giving him a quick warning that there might be attempts on his life, she went off. We are told that he gazed after her for quite a while.
This was the beginning of a momentous friendship. Hitler courted her on whatever terms he was able; if he could not have her as a woman, he wanted at least to win her over as an artist. She, in turn, had found a kindred spirit who recognized true art when he saw it (in her dances and movies) and proved to be an ally in the battle against the industry. Riefenstahl was determined to portray her first encounter with Hitler in terms of following a voice inside her. In her memoirs, she claims she wanted to meet him because he had stepped up to put an end to unemployment. Her assertion that she skipped out on interviews with Berlin journalists in order to chat about reducing unemployment seems far-fetched at best. At that time, she had a ten-thousand-dollar contract in her pocket and was more focused on building her career than on the afflictions of others. Riefenstahl acted as though she did not really know what she was doing, but the timing of her first meeting with Hitler suggests a strategic move. By September 1930, the National Socialists could no longer be ignored. At the Reichstag elections, 6.4 million Germans cast their votes for them, making the NSDAP the second strongest party after the Social Democratic Party. Although Heinrich Brüning was the chancellor, Adolf Hitler was the chief political figure. Bookstores displayed Kurt Tucholsky’s Gripsholm Castle, a bitter send-up of the Nazi movement, in their windows, and Fritz Lang’s M, a film about a series of bloody murders, ran in movie theaters. In 1931, the SA (paramilitary wing of the Nazi party) in Berlin had bloody brawls with the communists in the Wedding district night after night. Everyone knew Hitler. By 1932, no one retained any faith in the Weimar Republic. On March 5, the presidency of eighty-four-year-old Paul von Hindenburg would come to an end. For his opponent, Hitler, it was a simple matter to distinguish himself as a champion of the young, dynamic Germany. “Old man . . . you must step aside,” he proclaimed at the February 1932 rally in the Berlin Sports Palace. This was the rally that had “afflicted” Riefenstahl. Hitler was putting into words exactly what she was feeling; she, too, wanted people to step aside for her. Hitler traveled from one end of the country to the other, preaching renewal and change, sowing hatred and violence. Hindenburg wound up winning the first ballot; Hitler received 30 percent of the vote, in line with expectations. Because no absolute majority had been achieved, there needed to be a second ballot. In order to come across as young and dashing, the National Socialists came up with a highly inventive scheme: Hitler glided in from the skies by airplane on his first “Germany Flight,” which bore the slogan “Hitler Over Germany!” On April 10, Hindenburg was confirmed as the president of the Reich, but Hitler’s votes had gone up by nearly 7 percent. This was how the situation stood one month after the premiere of The Blue Light. Hitler and Riefenstahl were campaigning in Germany simultaneously: she wanted to sell her film, and he his politics. State elections were slated for April 24 in Anhalt, Prussia, Bavaria, and Württemberg, and city elections for Hamburg. The NSDAP made substantial gains in these elections as well.49 By the spring of 1932, the National Socialists had entered the home stretch of their race to power. For Riefenstahl, Hitler was an option she planned to keep open. He was poised to achieve the breakthrough that she was still awaiting. He was enjoying success from voters that spring, while she had yet to become a sought-after artist. Riefenstahl took a two-pronged approach: she positioned herself as an artist with the Jew-hating Nazi leader while working for an American film company that belonged to a German Jew. To make matters even more inconsistent, her contractual partner, Universal, had in the previous year produced All Quiet on the Western Front, directed by Lewis Milestone, which was repugnant to the National Socialists. Joseph Goebbels, who was then Hitler’s gauleiter (regional party leader) in Berlin, fought against this movie with every means he had available. All Quiet on the Western Front was banned in Germany; in the United States, it was awarded an Oscar. It is unlikely that Riefenstahl was unaware of this movie, especially because she liked to point out how well acquainted she was with Erich Maria Remarque. She had no qualms about flirting with the Jewish film producer one evening, then heading off to a merry gathering of the Nazi elite. Her meeting with Hitler also included his personal adjutant, Brückner; the future commander of the Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler, Sepp Dietrich; and the future Third Reich press chief, Dr. Otto Dietrich. In the spring of 1932, she hoped that either Hitler or Hollywood would finally make her a star.
In late September 1932, Riefenstahl arrived in Berlin. She headed first to the doctor, and then to Hitler. We know from Ernst Sorge that while in Greenland, she used her bouts of illness to study Mein Kampf:
Leni Riefenstahl got a serious chill after this, and was ill for some long time. She moved from her tent to a little room in the house of the Overseer of the Colony, which she fixed up as comfortably as best she might. She had a small collection of books. . . . In addition, Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf was never out of her hands. She studied it with the utmost interest, and openly declared herself fully to agree with its conclusions. She found a visible means of expressing her great admiration for Hitler by hanging up his picture, framed in sealskin, both in her tent and now in this new habitation.50
She must have learned from her parents, who had picked her up from the ship in Copenhagen, what had been going on in Germany in the interim. The summer of 1932 was a summer of violence. The paramilitary formations of the NSDAP bludgeoned and murdered their way through Germany. The Reichstag was dissolved; Chancellor Heinrich Brüning was no longer in office; and his successor, Franz von Papen, was weak and unpopular. The next reelections were slated for November 6. It was possible that Hitler would become the next c
hancellor. When Riefenstahl called him on the telephone, following up on her promise to contact him upon her return to Germany, his adjutant informed her that Hitler would be expecting her for tea at Hotel Kaiserhof. The Adolf Hitler that Riefenstahl got to know was determined to look respectable and trustworthy, as reflected in photographs of him in the early 1930s. His face may still have brought to mind a peddler hawking postcards, but he no longer posed for pictures wearing lederhosen and carrying a dog whip; instead, he was inclined to appear in a suit with a party badge.51 Winifred Wagner and other prominent women gave him motherly advice and taught him manners, and his confidant, Ernst Hanfstaengl, taught him not to add sugar to his wine. Hitler now cultivated a lifestyle that was markedly different from his beer hall days. Back then, Riefenstahl surely would not have been interested in him. The man with whom she was associating spent money on bodyguards and chauffeured black Mercedes limousines and no longer stayed at rundown boarding houses, but rather at the luxurious Hotel Kaiserhof just across from the Reich chancellery. His relocation to the Kaiserhof marked a kind of ascent. All of Berlin knew that he was residing there. People took careful note of who was granted an audience. Everyone was abuzz over the party leaders’ gigantic hotel bills, poked fun at Hitler’s overindulgence in cake, and wondered where the National Socialists were getting all of that money. Riefenstahl rushed over to chat with Hitler about Greenland right in the middle of the election campaign. The very next day, an invitation followed to a soiree at the home of Joseph and Magda Goebbels. She found the wife pretty, but the husband coarse. The main topics of conversation were “the theater and other cultural events.”52 Hitler was there as well. He announced that he planned to stop by her place with his photographer, Heinrich Hoffmann. They sat together eating homemade cake in her attic apartment, and Hitler told Hoffmann to have a good look at the Riefenstahl photographs from The Blue Light, claiming that Hoffmann could learn a thing or two from them about composing pictures. Riefenstahl blushed at all this praise from the Führer.
Dietrich & Riefenstahl: Hollywood, Berlin, and a Century in Two Lives Page 15