Hitler, a cat, and the allure of deceptive beauty

Frames taken from "Triumph of the Will" appear to show Hitler and a cat looking at each other."
Adolf Hitler and a cat exchange glances before the Nuremberg Rally.

Several years ago, I went to a film party held at a friend’s big-ass house in, of all places, the Lincoln Square neighborhood. The hood was once heavily German, an irony that will be apparent shortly.

The crowd was a motley crew of film students, history buffs, and just plain hangers-on. I wound up there because I’d had dinner with friends who knew about the party and dragged me along.

The first few films at the event were funny World War II-era shorts, many requiring a trigger-warning disclaimer today but still riotously funny. I’m talking stuff like Looney Tunes’ “Tokio Jokio,” Paramount’s Superman cartoon “Japoteurs,” and then British intelligence’s “The Lambeth Walk: Nazi Style.”

Right after the Teutonic “Lambeth Walk” came the film that had provided its inspiration: Leni Riefenstahl’s “Triumph of the Will.” On the surface? A propaganda machine oiled and prepped by the Nazis.

But dive deeper, and you’ll see the sinister craftsmanship — the kind that seduces you with visuals, as tempting as a fresh streuselkuchen straight out of a Berlin bakery.

Artistic? Sure. George Lucas thought so, snatched that Nuremberg Rally three-person strut for “Star Wars” (1977). Brian De Palma? He nabbed it for “Mission to Mars” (2000). Tinsel Town got its claws on Riefenstahl’s shots a long time ago.

Yet, here’s the deal: No one’s lauding the message, just acknowledging the craft. Is it kosher to admire a snake’s beauty, knowing it can bite?

This post came about because I’ve finished reading “Leni Riefenstahl: The Seduction of Genius” by Rainer Rother, which prompted me to watch “Triumph of the Will” again.

My favorite scene? The one where Hitler looks up from his motorcade Mercedes-Benz and locks eyes with a cat. The cat’s perched at a window beside a swastika flag, taking in the show. A moment of serendipity in a film otherwise dense with choreography. Those eyes, Hitler’s and the cat’s, a dance of curiosity in a world on the cusp of darkness.

But I’ll be clear: Nazis? They’re the storm cloud in every silver lining. Admiring Riefenstahl’s work isn’t a salute to them. It’s a nod to a filmmaker’s ability to make evil look good, a reminder always to question what we see.

FOR MORE INFORMATION

“Triumph of the Will” analysis.

The real “Lambeth Walk” from “Me and My Girl.”

Rome’s legacy more than just history

Midjourney synthograph shows a Roman center in front of rthe U.S. Capitol.

While watching historian Garrett Ryan’s latest YouTube Toldinstone episode, I got to thinking about how right he is that Rome still holds sway over our world.

The vast expanse of Rome’s influence in the annals of history is undeniable. When we speak of the Roman Empire, we touch on an epoch that shaped civilizations and laid the groundwork for our contemporary world. Roman culture and governance’s monumental advancements and intricacies are far more than tales of conquests or ancient grandeur.

Every corner of our modern life bears the indelible mark of Rome. The architecture that graces our cities, the languages that have evolved from Latin roots, and the democratic principles many societies hold dear — are all bequeathed to us from the great Roman civilization.

While discussing Rome’s influence, it’s essential to acknowledge the other side of the coin.

Rome often gets a bad rap, and much of it stems from Christian narratives that emerged as the religion gained prominence. It’s interesting, and perhaps surprising to some, that even after Rome embraced Christianity, some of its more brutal practices persisted. For example, the spectacle of gladiators fighting to the death remained a fixture of Roman entertainment.

This serves as a reminder that history is multifaceted, and the interpretation of events and cultures changes depending on the perspective and agenda of those recounting it — plus the ability to ram a slanted narrative down student throats with a toilet plunger.

I’m fond of an ancient belief we grant them immortality by invoking the names of gods, heroes, and those of renown. How often have scholars and enthusiasts recalled names such as Julius Caesar, Cleopatra, or Augustus?

Doing so ensures their stories, values, and dreams resonate through the ages. This age-old custom, while symbolic, underscores the profound respect and reverence we have for these figures and the civilization they represent.

I have no doubt Caesar would be delighted that we still read his books. Mark Antony would revel in his perpetual role as history’s alpha bad boy. And as for Cleopatra, yes, she’d be glad to be one of history’s beauties, but I’ll bet she’d be more satisfied that she’s also remembered as a savvy statesperson who took on Rome and, at least for a time, gave the empire a run for its pecunia.

On a personal note, my deep appreciation for Rome has led me to explore, with uncharacteristic earnestness, parts of Roman religion.

I share in the allure of venerating deities such as Ceres, who watched over the harvest, or of seeking the ideals of love and beauty through Venus. Historically and philosophically, their significance provides us with rich narratives that help shape our understanding of the world and our place in it.

The legacy of Rome isn’t limited to what’s written on parchment or carved in stone. Its essence thrives in humanity’s collective consciousness.

We owe a deep debt to Rome — not just for the tales of its past, but for the wisdom and foundations it provides for our future.

Garrett Ryan’s Toldinstone is one of my favorite YouTube channels.