By Diana Bilbao
Having spent some time browsing the Home Movie collection of archive.org, I am becoming increasingly aware of the entirely different mode of viewership required by these films. Ishizuka and Zimmerman write that "As dreamscapes condensing and displacing memory and history, home movies suggest a rethinking of and reorientation about which language and theoretical models are appropriate to decipher their syntax, grammar, codes, and production of knowledge" (18). Indeed, watching them requires a recalibration of one's analytical thinking, as their very amateur nature and intent often cause them to operate on a different level and in a wholly different realm from traditional documentary.
Some home movies may have a narrative bent in their smaller vignettes, but they still require a great deal more deciphering than their nonfiction relatives. One film I discovered, entitled Home Movie 97074: Iowa, 1942-1946, begins with a shot of a semi-circular canvas laid out on a grassy field. Its edges are held down by stones, and it is painted with trees and shapes. After a cut, animal shapes have been painted on. Soon, a human is in the frame painting the canvas. More people are shown painting in the following shots, with the low exposure on a sunny day creating an eerie, ominous look. Eventually, a quick cut shows us that the canvas has become a teepee. Once the teepee has been revealed, the film moves on to another vignette, sans explanation or resolution.
While the sequence in and of itself has a kind of goal to it - clearly, the desire was to document the process of teepee creation - the lack of voiceover, closeup, or titles prevents the viewer from fully understanding the action. We do not know why the teepee is being constructed or who the participants are. In fact, because of the low quality and exposure, we can barely see the faces of the people involved enough to differentiate them. While this affects us on a viewing level, however, it was an irrelevant concern at the moment of the film's conception. The filmmaker knows all this information because he or she is involved. This marked difference in intent between home movies and other nonfiction film is what creates the unique viewing experience. We as viewers are faced with a filmmaker who neither knows nor cares that we are watching.
The almost careless montage construction of home movies in general makes for a very active viewing experience. The viewer is forced to engage with the film on an almost shot-by-shot basis. After the teepee vignette, Iowa, 1942-1946 moves on to landscape shots, people at the beach, a deer walking slowly through tall grass, and other short, isolated moments. For each one of these shots, the viewer must attempt to establish time, place, the participants, and the reason the person decided to shoot in the first place.
Another example of the kind of analysis necessary in home movies is a sequence from Home Movie 98752: Possibly in Connecticut. This whimsically titled film is even less coherent than Iowa. It begins with animals at the zoo, cuts to tourist shots of Washington, D.C., spends a minute at a college graduation, etc. Eventually, however, it does begin to establish some sort of familiarity. We start to see the same two dogs, the same baby, and the same children. At this point, the viewer can begin to attempt to decipher the actual relationships between the figures onscreen, rather than the basic "what's happening?" Here, the film begins to have a slight semblance of a narrative through sheer consistency and visual quality. This huge variation in accessibility is part of what requires such different analytical tools in approaching home movies.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 12, 2013
Rouch vs. Reichenbach: Cinema verite, direct cinema, and questions of distinction in methods of observation
In his memoir, Francois Reichenbach aligns himself with Ricky Leacock, criticizing the "psychoanalytic" cinema verité of Jean Rouch. I found this interesting, especially considering the similar francophone origins of Reichenbach and Rouch. While it does seem appropriate that Reichenbach, who was so fascinated with America, aligns himself with the Anglophone direct cinema filmmakers, there is some aspect to his work that seems subjective rather than objective documentary—especially considering the title of his film America as Seen by a Frenchman (1960).
Studying Rouch, I came to wonder what effect the pairing of sociology/anthropology with cinema has on cinema-based scholarly writing concerning Rouch—considering "The 'Dialogic Imagination' of Jean Rouch" as a case study. The anthropological frameworks that are detailed in the studies on Rouch, specifically revolving around the idea of ethnography, seem more geared towards anthropology and the study of human beings rather than the study of cinema. Perhaps this is appropriate as Rouch was first an anthropologist and secondly a filmmaker. It is also possible that taking on such a large amount of information—including indigenous populations on camera, criticisms, documentary, and cinema—has found the ethnographic components of Rouch's work more important to foreground than simply their documentary-like form. While his films are important, they are hardly the first ethnographic films (as detailed in Heider's "A Hisotry of Ethnographic Film").
In considering Diane Scheinman's essay, my first questions arise in how exactly the dialogic is obtained through cinema verité and how this is new and different from a more objective, observational direct cinema. Scheinman quotes Baktin's idea that "A word, discourse, language or culture undergoes 'dialogization' when it becomes relativeized, de-priviledged, aware of competing definitions for the same things.[1]" This idea pertains to the 1960s era of decolonization in France that followed the problematic war in Algeria. The center / perhiphery relationship between France and its former colonies allowed Rouch to obtain this force of dialogism in his films. If there were not competing definitions of culture, there would be no discussion of dialogism. It is possible that the simple mechanism of a camera, whose history is so strong in France beginning with the Lumiere brothers in 1895, presents this dialogism even before any political issues of decolonization present themselves. More strongly stressed in Scheinman's essay however, is the idea of Eurocentrism working in contrast to native African cultures.
"As in his subsequent films, in Les maitres fous Rouch is concerned with the psychological impact of colonialism on indigenous populations and with the adaptive responses such cultural contact occasions" (192). This psychological impact works in Rouch's new de-eurocentrising developments in anthropology. Manifesting in films, this mix of redefining the study of anthropology mixes with defining a subgenre of cinema verite in the field of documentary is a dual development, but perhaps mixes issues of documentary with anthropology. This mixing in turn creates a converged medium of anthro-documentary that cannot be studied simply through cinema or simply through anthropology. Similar problems present themselves in other combinations of anthropological/sociological/cultural studies with film studies, highlighted by Willemen in his discussion on national cinemas: "the issues of the national and the international, and indeed of the colonial and the imperial, are present in film studies in specific ways that are different from those adopted, for instance, in anthropology or in comparative literature."[2] Willemen presents theoretical problems that there is not adequate time to consider in this brief essay. However, in keeping with this idea of a problematic consideration of anthropology within film studies or film studies within anthropology, I find it necessary to consider Rouch's filmmaking carefully. (This is perhaps analogous to the way in which Francois Truffaut is said to have called Night and Fog a meditation rather than a documentary in Van der Knaap's book).
At this point, I find it important to note that while Rouch worked closely with indigenous cultures in Africa, he was also concerned with western culture, as detailed in his focus on Paris in Chronicle of a Summer (1961). His multicultural focus in Chronicle is similar to the multicultural depictions of America in Reichenbach's films. However, in Chronique, there is a distinct psychoanalytic, "meta" study of cinema that does not exist in direct cinema filmmaking. Rouch, at the end of his film Chronique, acknowledges that there is an idea that the presence of a camera has an effect on people's action and continues to interrogate his subjects on their actions in front of a camera. While considering these more sociological effects of performance, Rouch was also considering the multicultural atmosphere of 1960s Paris. In mixing the two, his film becomes an ethnographic study of western culture. But it also studies the medium of cinema in an at once connected but distinct genre of study. Considering this mixing, we might apply the theory of dialogism in the teaching of Jean Rouch's films. While weighing upon the field of anthropology and presenting a new "shared" anthropology, Rouch mixes his fieldwork in anthropology with his own studies of cinema (in a meta-study of performance styles, effect of music on image, etc). This might be contrast against direct cinema filmmakers who took on fly-on-the-wall observational styles that were subjective in terms of where and how the filmmakers used their cameras but objective in terms of psychological analysis.
Curiously, the film careers of Rouch and Reichenbach began the same—at least in relation to sound. As detailed in Scheinman's essay on Rouch[3] and in a short biographical note on Reichenbach[4], both directors were disturbed by the addition of sound to their first silent films (which both had negative reactions from audiences who saw them first without sound), holding faith in image more than with music or words. However, finding added sound problematic, Rouch turned to synchronous sound while Reichenbach turned towards essayistic tendencies, presenting his "French," narrated perspective on a situation rather than an observational synchronity that occurred with synchronous sound. (Admittedly, self-identification with national cultures is another theoretical problem that there is no time for in this essay—but an important concept to take note of.) Curiously, the acknowledged subjectivity of music and "perspective" of Reichenbach's work present a study that is different from both direct cinema and Rouch's cinema verité. While Rouch's subjects are studied on film as creatures of their society, Reichenbach himself is the subject of study when considering anthropological approaches to his film. The idea that "the camera is never a neutral presence, but one that prompts constructions of 'reality' by those on whom it is turned[5]" might apply to both filmmakers, but in different layers of their own cinema.
-- Carrie Reese
Studying Rouch, I came to wonder what effect the pairing of sociology/anthropology with cinema has on cinema-based scholarly writing concerning Rouch—considering "The 'Dialogic Imagination' of Jean Rouch" as a case study. The anthropological frameworks that are detailed in the studies on Rouch, specifically revolving around the idea of ethnography, seem more geared towards anthropology and the study of human beings rather than the study of cinema. Perhaps this is appropriate as Rouch was first an anthropologist and secondly a filmmaker. It is also possible that taking on such a large amount of information—including indigenous populations on camera, criticisms, documentary, and cinema—has found the ethnographic components of Rouch's work more important to foreground than simply their documentary-like form. While his films are important, they are hardly the first ethnographic films (as detailed in Heider's "A Hisotry of Ethnographic Film").
In considering Diane Scheinman's essay, my first questions arise in how exactly the dialogic is obtained through cinema verité and how this is new and different from a more objective, observational direct cinema. Scheinman quotes Baktin's idea that "A word, discourse, language or culture undergoes 'dialogization' when it becomes relativeized, de-priviledged, aware of competing definitions for the same things.[1]" This idea pertains to the 1960s era of decolonization in France that followed the problematic war in Algeria. The center / perhiphery relationship between France and its former colonies allowed Rouch to obtain this force of dialogism in his films. If there were not competing definitions of culture, there would be no discussion of dialogism. It is possible that the simple mechanism of a camera, whose history is so strong in France beginning with the Lumiere brothers in 1895, presents this dialogism even before any political issues of decolonization present themselves. More strongly stressed in Scheinman's essay however, is the idea of Eurocentrism working in contrast to native African cultures.
"As in his subsequent films, in Les maitres fous Rouch is concerned with the psychological impact of colonialism on indigenous populations and with the adaptive responses such cultural contact occasions" (192). This psychological impact works in Rouch's new de-eurocentrising developments in anthropology. Manifesting in films, this mix of redefining the study of anthropology mixes with defining a subgenre of cinema verite in the field of documentary is a dual development, but perhaps mixes issues of documentary with anthropology. This mixing in turn creates a converged medium of anthro-documentary that cannot be studied simply through cinema or simply through anthropology. Similar problems present themselves in other combinations of anthropological/sociological/cultural studies with film studies, highlighted by Willemen in his discussion on national cinemas: "the issues of the national and the international, and indeed of the colonial and the imperial, are present in film studies in specific ways that are different from those adopted, for instance, in anthropology or in comparative literature."[2] Willemen presents theoretical problems that there is not adequate time to consider in this brief essay. However, in keeping with this idea of a problematic consideration of anthropology within film studies or film studies within anthropology, I find it necessary to consider Rouch's filmmaking carefully. (This is perhaps analogous to the way in which Francois Truffaut is said to have called Night and Fog a meditation rather than a documentary in Van der Knaap's book).
At this point, I find it important to note that while Rouch worked closely with indigenous cultures in Africa, he was also concerned with western culture, as detailed in his focus on Paris in Chronicle of a Summer (1961). His multicultural focus in Chronicle is similar to the multicultural depictions of America in Reichenbach's films. However, in Chronique, there is a distinct psychoanalytic, "meta" study of cinema that does not exist in direct cinema filmmaking. Rouch, at the end of his film Chronique, acknowledges that there is an idea that the presence of a camera has an effect on people's action and continues to interrogate his subjects on their actions in front of a camera. While considering these more sociological effects of performance, Rouch was also considering the multicultural atmosphere of 1960s Paris. In mixing the two, his film becomes an ethnographic study of western culture. But it also studies the medium of cinema in an at once connected but distinct genre of study. Considering this mixing, we might apply the theory of dialogism in the teaching of Jean Rouch's films. While weighing upon the field of anthropology and presenting a new "shared" anthropology, Rouch mixes his fieldwork in anthropology with his own studies of cinema (in a meta-study of performance styles, effect of music on image, etc). This might be contrast against direct cinema filmmakers who took on fly-on-the-wall observational styles that were subjective in terms of where and how the filmmakers used their cameras but objective in terms of psychological analysis.
Curiously, the film careers of Rouch and Reichenbach began the same—at least in relation to sound. As detailed in Scheinman's essay on Rouch[3] and in a short biographical note on Reichenbach[4], both directors were disturbed by the addition of sound to their first silent films (which both had negative reactions from audiences who saw them first without sound), holding faith in image more than with music or words. However, finding added sound problematic, Rouch turned to synchronous sound while Reichenbach turned towards essayistic tendencies, presenting his "French," narrated perspective on a situation rather than an observational synchronity that occurred with synchronous sound. (Admittedly, self-identification with national cultures is another theoretical problem that there is no time for in this essay—but an important concept to take note of.) Curiously, the acknowledged subjectivity of music and "perspective" of Reichenbach's work present a study that is different from both direct cinema and Rouch's cinema verité. While Rouch's subjects are studied on film as creatures of their society, Reichenbach himself is the subject of study when considering anthropological approaches to his film. The idea that "the camera is never a neutral presence, but one that prompts constructions of 'reality' by those on whom it is turned[5]" might apply to both filmmakers, but in different layers of their own cinema.
-- Carrie Reese
[1] Dialogic 427 in Scheinman, Diane. "The 'Dialogic Imagination' of Jean Rouch: Covert Conversations in Les maitres fous." Documenting the Documentary. Eds. Barry Keith Grant and Jeannette Sloniowski. Detroit: Wayne State UP, 1998. Pp. 188-203.
[2] Willemen, Paul. "The National Revisited." Theorising National Cinema. Ed. Valentina Vitali and Paul Willemen. British Film Institute, 2008. Page 31
[3]Scheinman, 201
[4] Widhoff, Francoise. « Francois Reichenbach Vu par Francoise Widhoff. » Pamphlet. Francois Reichenbach : Hommage, Volume 2. DVD-PAL (Zone 2). BQHL Distribution. Page 5
[5] Scheinman, 194
Nov 11, 2013
Conference & Screenings | "Re-Enactments of 1917 in Film"
Reenactment [reenactment]
is sometimes conceived of as anathema to nonfiction.
But there's no getting around the fact that forms of reenacting (or enacting or dramatizing) past events have always been part of nonfiction film and documentary forms. From the Reproduction of the Corbett-Fitzsimmons Fight (Lubin, 1897) to The Passion Play at Oberammergau (1898); from Nanook building his igloo to Gerald L. K. Smith playing himself in a 1937 March of Time newsreel; from Errol Morris shooting in-studio dramatizations of the murder of a Dallas police officer in The Thin Blue Line (1987) to Philippe Petit revisiting his own 1974 tight-rope walk between the World Trade Center twin towers in the great documentary Man on a Wire (2008).
is sometimes conceived of as anathema to nonfiction.
But there's no getting around the fact that forms of reenacting (or enacting or dramatizing) past events have always been part of nonfiction film and documentary forms. From the Reproduction of the Corbett-Fitzsimmons Fight (Lubin, 1897) to The Passion Play at Oberammergau (1898); from Nanook building his igloo to Gerald L. K. Smith playing himself in a 1937 March of Time newsreel; from Errol Morris shooting in-studio dramatizations of the murder of a Dallas police officer in The Thin Blue Line (1987) to Philippe Petit revisiting his own 1974 tight-rope walk between the World Trade Center twin towers in the great documentary Man on a Wire (2008).
This "Re-Enactments of 1917 in Film" conference brings some quite rare film material to the fore. [see announcement below from NYU Jordan Center for the Advanced Study of Russia -- http://jordanrussiacenter.org/event/re-enactments-of-1917-in-film/ ]
On October 26 this year, the Museum of Modern Art screened two re-united pieces of footage (from Swedish and Russian sources) documenting the Soviets' 1920 spectacular ritual re-staging of the October Revolution of 1917. Never a film release per se, the very officially commissioned film recorded a giant outdoor stage event. [Zizek wrote about it: "A Plea for Leninist Intolerance," Critical Inquiry (Winter 2002): http://www.egs.edu/faculty/slavoj-zizek/articles/a-plea-for-leninist-intolerance.]
On the site where the historical events occurred three years earlier, a team of directors, actors, and extras mounted a pageant in Petrograd in which Reds and Whites vied for the space outside of the Winter Palace (of the deposed czar). A few thousand people played roles in the production, witnessed by some 100,000 others.
The Storming reenactment of 1920 took place at night (like the events of 1917). Therefore, all the FILMED actions had to be shot during the daytime REHEARSAL for the reenactment (except the evening fireworks).
Here are a few snapshots I took of the MoMA screen during scholar Yuri Tsivian's slide show before the film screening last month.
 |
| (1) drawing (aerial view) of the Winter Palace "set" (1920)
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|
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| (2) The Women's Battalion of Death! (see Kristen Harper's posting -- http://nonfictionfilmhistory.blogspot.com/2013/09/women-in-non-fiction-war-films.html ) |
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| (3) Actor of 1920 playing General Kerensky, the Russian provisional government Prime Minister of 1917. (The Keaton resemblance must be coincidental, since Buster was only just emerging as a film star in '20.) ______________________________________________________________________________ 
(4) Fireworks [!] ended the 1920 spectacle! Here's a film frame enlargement of same.
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CONFERENCE: Re-Enactments of 1917 in Film
Co-sponsored by NYU Department of Comparative Literature
and Department of Cinema Studies.
When thinking about the October Revolution we habitually imagine a single event with far-reaching historical consequences. We sometimes forget that history does not follow nature’s laws of causality but rather was an interaction between revolutionary technologies, incremental changes in knowledge, and necessary politico-economical development, which themselve have stirred up European societies since Modernity. Furthermore, we are seldom cognisant of the role media has played in the telling, writing, showing and conception thereof. Living in post-historical times, we need to give new meaning to the events and dates we are inheriting from European History (writ large.)
This conference focuses on a radical form of “historical imagination” (Hayden White) as exemplified by the October Revolution. Our aim is to describe how the multi-layered process of historical change was modeled by the classical arts of literature or theater and by the new media, such as cinema, into a special kind of event. How did it happen that we have come to associate this complex process solely with the storming of the Winter Palace on October 25th in 1917?
uncredited photo from the conference website.
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Nov 8, 2013
Die Deutsche Wochenschau No. 747 and the Late World War II Nazi Aesthetic
"Die Deutsche
Wochenschau No. 747 and the Late World War II Nazi Aesthetic" by Roger Mancusi
Through the help of Dr. Streibel
and his colleague Jeanpaul Goergen, we have positively identified the Nazi
newsreel footage that I screened for class as being Die Deutsche Wochenschau No. 747.
The German Weekly Review (Die
Deutsche Wochenschau) news service, distributed by Tobis Films, used a
combination of field footage of military offenses, updates from the home front,
and interactive maps to display Nazi campaigns across the world to the
German people. The footage in my
selected piece, which passed censors on January 4, 1945, captures the Nazi
Ardennes Offensive, and as discussed in class it selectively portrays the Nazi
advances and neglects to show their eventual retreat and defeat in the Battle
of the Bulge (Hoffmann 233).
Beyond simply depicting or ignoring the battle’s
factual details and realities, the newsreel employs various cinematic maneuvers
to sell the political rhetoric Nazi authorities were brandishing during the
collapse of the Western Front. To give context, in
various speeches made in late 1944 and early 1945, Adolf Hitler and Joseph Goebbels began to
change their wartime rhetoric from reasons to fight to reasons to defend. When earlier they proclaimed German superiority as the reason to overcome their European neighbors, now they chose to describe the intensity with which Nazi forces were
meeting the Allied and Soviet advances (Barnouw 144). Despite reports of Nazi losses and surrenders abounding the Western and Eastern Fronts, the Nazi regime claimed victories and insisted that every enemy attack was being met head on with violent and bloodthirsty determination. Simultaneously, they stressed the importance of a unified home front to
support and believe in the forces that were fighting off the invaders.
Die Deutsche Wochenschau No. 747
encompasses both the stubborn rhetoric of the collapsing Nazi regime and the
cinematic qualities necessary to sell the ideal of the valiant and successful Nazi
soldier to the nervous German public.
As Die Deutsche Wochenschau No. 747 begins, as was custom for
newsreels, we are given a time and a place for the action we are about to see
unfold: The 16th of December, 1945 in the Ardennes Region of
Luxembourg and Belgium. Following these establishing shots, we are bombarded
(to borrow the term) with close ups of rockets streaking through the night sky
and Nazi artillery unleashing their shells on unsuspecting Allied forces. The narrator, Harry Giese, adds
the verbal commentary to these images to accurately portray the impact of the
initial Nazi attacks, and the dramatic soundtrack builds the tension while
German forces await the signal to advance.
1
Once the word is given, the soldiers advance
to surprise stunned American soldiers, and the camera follows the columns of
Nazis into the “enemy villages” while captured American POWs stream in the opposite
direction.
Within the next sequence’s display
of American wreckage, we see the camera and narrator’s ability, or at least
attempt, to subvert what they believe were Allied war claims. The camera closes in on the side of a
destroyed American tank with the phrase “AMERICA FIRST” painted on it, and the narrator claims: “America First? We’ll see about that!” [Image 1]. Whether or not the irony and humor of
“America First” being painted on a Sherman tank was wasted on the Germans is
unknown, but regardless, the newsreel takes this to be a claim of American
dominance and shows the viewer how Allied claims only
lead to dead Americans at the hands of the superior Nazi forces.
The German soldiers, as argued by the footage, were made to
look superior in all aspects of the battle, and according to the narrator, each Nazi maneuver caught the Allies off guard. The bodies and wreckage they leave in their wake attests to
that, and the cascade of images of German shells falling, German tanks advancing, and Allied forces crumbling only further those claims. 
As the second installment of the
newsreel (Part 2) begins, we are shown the Nazi’s superiority in the air to accompany their overpowering forces on the ground.
Before the action takes to the sky, the camera again works to undo
American wartime ideologies. In Image 2,
The American Dream, a long held national ethos was shown to be untrue as a Nazi
soldier tauntingly paints the expression on one of the many destroyed American guns. To back up the Nazi ideological claims of
superiority, the narrator comments derisively, “The American Dream. This says it
all!”. Clearly, according to this
newsreel, the Allied forces have no match for Nazi firepower and cunning, and
soon the Luftwaffe will take to the skies to continue the display of military
might. 
The Allied air forces, which we
know actually turned the tide on the Ardennes offensive, are here shown to be
cannon fodder for the Luftwaffe. Nazi fighter-planes take off and attack
before American bombers can even get off the ground, leaving them in a trail of
smoke. And once American bombers are in the
sky, we find them unprotected and they are easily shot down by the Nazi fighter
planes attacking from above. In the first series of what I believe are shots
added in postproduction, the spectator (read: the German citizen) is invited to
participate in the shooting down of sluggish American bombers. After showing the organization of German
planes flying in formation, the camera cuts to a close up of a fighter pilot
looking down [Image 3] to show his gun control
[Image 4] in a point of view shot. The
camera cuts to the propeller spurning the plane forward before cutting to
another POV shot: the plane unleashing fire and downing an American
plane. When American fighters come to
engage the Luftwaffe, they too are easily shot down in an eyeline match with the pilot [Image 5]. The audience is invited to not only enjoy in
this ritualistic and systematic destruction of American forces, but also to actively
feel like they are an engaged participant in the battle.
Hitler and Goebbels stressed the unity of the home front and battlefront was crucial to repel the invading Allied forces, and these
series of point of view shots shows the
German citizen why they should still believe in the war efforts. The newsreel fades to black and we are led to believe that the German's were victories on all accounts of the battle. 
In reality, German forces were being beaten back in such numbers that on January 7, 1945, only three days after Die Deutsche
Wochenschau No. 747 was sent to press, Hitler ordered for the complete evacuation of Nazi forces from the Ardennes Region into the German northwest. This newsreel, however, stresses and manipulates the initial Nazi forces' successes (mainly between mid to late December), but refuses to show the Nazi retreat from Christmas through the New Year. It upholds the virtues and ideals that the Nazi regime would have had the public believe and refuses to participate in the breakdown of their proud beliefs. The images and voice-over act to soothe the growing anxieties of the closing months of World War II in Germany, and the hyperbolic and nationalistic rhetoric that catapulted the nation, and the world, into war years ago is here alive and well. It is only when you dig beneath these twisted and propagandistic images that the true nature is revealed. The Ardennes Offensive would prove to be Hitler's last desperate attack to protect the nation he led to believe was universally superior to the rest of the world. After the Battle of the Bulge, having been overexposed, under-equipped, and truly defeated, the German forces continued their retreat into the heart of Germany, only to fall to the Allied and Russian forces some five months later.
Works Cited:
Barnouw, Erik. Documentary: A History of the Non-Fiction Film, New York: Oxford University Press, 1996.
Hoffman, Hilmar. The Triumph of Propaganda: Film and National Socialism 1933-1945, Frankfurt: Berghahn Books, 1996.
Note:
1. Dr. Kathrin Bower explained that Harry Giese was the narrator in a personal correspondence.
1. Dr. Kathrin Bower explained that Harry Giese was the narrator in a personal correspondence.
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