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A very interesting book in itself if you're interested in German film and the history of the UFA studio, but its brief discussion of Riefenstahl may dispose of the notion that "Riefenstahl the Artist" as an image was anything less than maximally convenient for the Nazi elites and for Riefenstahl herself. As Kremeier says, Riefenstahl's entire claim to greatness is that she took a set of aesthetics developed for art and entertainment and turned it into the aesthetic representation of the Nazi state. That was her task, and how delightful that she could do it and still be Riefenstahl the Artist. "How much of a Nazi she was" is beside the point, I think. Few of the collaborators in the Nazi-era German film industry were in fact Nazis, and they'd all happily worked with their many Jewish colleagues for years; they collaborated anyway and pretended that their vanished colleagues had never existed, mostly for mundane careerist reasons.
In looking at the directors, actors, etc., who remained in Germany (and relatively few non-Jews left; Conrad Veidt and Marlene Dietrich are the actors who comes readily to mind, and the latter was already in Hollywood when Hitler took power) -- I think every story is different, but one can at least differentiate between those who just put their heads down and kept churning out the operettas and domestic comedies and those who went out of their way to participate in "films of the state." Werner Krauss, Emil Jannings, Harlan Veit (for sure!), and Leni Riefenstahl, are all in the latter category, IMHO.
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