
1924 · Fritz Lang
How Die Nibelungen: Kriemhild's Revenge has been received, argued over, and remembered.
In 1924 it was the darker, less crowd-pleasing half of Lang's two-part national epic, overshadowed by Siegfried's fairy-tale spectacle; today cinephiles routinely flip that verdict, hailing Kriemhild's Revenge as the harder, more radical film — the half that 'goes off,' especially since the 2010 Murnau Foundation restoration.
The forever-debate is twofold: is part two secretly better than Siegfried, and can you untangle the film's monumental crowd aesthetics from Kracauer's famous charge that they rehearsed the imagery fascism would later weaponize?
It's a founding text of the two-part screen epic — modern reviewers love calling it the original split-in-half fantasy blockbuster — and its ornamental mass choreography became Exhibit A in Siegfried Kracauer's 'From Caligari to Hitler,' linking Weimar spectacle to Nazi pageantry. Tellingly, the Nazis re-released Siegfried in the 1930s but had no use for this apocalyptic second half.
A Weimar-canon staple living in the shadow of Metropolis and M, with a devoted 'the second part is peak silent Lang' contingent among Letterboxd's silent-film crowd.