By Vivienne Porzsolt
Last week I saw Ordinary Fascism, a fascinating documentary on Nazism by Soviet film maker Mikhail Romm. Made in 1961, it is remarkable both for its portrayal of that weird brand of fascism and for the way it does so.
It starts with snapshots of young people in Moscow, Berlin and other eastern bloc cities. They are shown, as the commentary tells us, living and loving, enjoying themselves.
Then, from shots of a young woman caressing her child or her lover, the camera cuts like a knife to shots of corpses in mass graves — their hands in similar positions. The impact is shattering.
Much of the material is drawn from Nazi archives — their passion for records and photos was amazing. Some readers will remember the film Warsaw Diary — A Birthday in Hell shown on SBS recently. This was based on photographs taken by a Wehrmacht soldier. He chose to spend his day off on his birthday wandering through the Warsaw ghetto clicking his forbidden camera. The documentary made from these was terrifying.
Romm's documentary is similarly graphic, hitting the viewer with the horror not only of the deeds but of the state of mind which could perpetrate them.
Romm reads from the diary of an SS officer, who intersperses his account of mass murders in the death camps with details of the family dinner. Romm is asking what could produce such a mentality.
There is also a strange mentality at work in the film. While the perspective is undoubtedly political, the ideal Soviet lifestyle as portrayed is curiously apolitical. No political goals for these citizens — all have already been achieved.
In a way which will surprise Western viewers, Soviet individuality is contrasted with fascist conformity. Romm derides a Nazi soup kitchen day. This was a day set for ideological purposes, to promote a sense of collective identity. On the same day, all citizens eat soup, if possible from the same gigantic cauldron. I would think that most socialists would see this as positive, if naively propagandist. The problem is that under fascism, such collective identification masks class exploitation, racism and xenophobia. But a communist ridiculing collective sharing? Weird!
There is a curious silence in the film. While communists, socialists and trade unionists are identified as key victims of the Nazis, the word Jew is mentioned only once. Romm describes how individuals are imprisoned or gassed for having, as he says, the wrong-shaped skulls. This is accompanied by shots of scrawled stars of David and clearly Jewish faces. Romm is not shy to admit that Germany and Germans were the perpetrators of the Nazi horrors. I wonder why it is not okay to admit that Jews were the key objects of Nazi vilification and of the final solution?
The commentary by Romm is intensely personal, from his guts. There is little political analysis here, but the rage of his irony laces the film with a strange humour. This adds greatly to the power of his film.
This is not a film you will readily find even on the alternative cinema circuits. Make sure you see it if you get a chance.