Ever seen Sean Connery’s last effort as James Bond 007, Never Say Never Again? If so, you may recall an exceptional performance by an actor in the role of the villainous Largo. He was Klaus Maria Brandauer, a talented Austrian actor. The film to be reviewed here, Mephisto, gave Brandauer his opportunity of a lifetime and earned him his ticket to Hollywood. Mephisto, produced in 1981, was the first of three collaborations between Brandauer and the talented Hungarian director, István Szabó. It was followed in 1984 by Colonel Redl and in 1988 by Hanussen. Mephisto was a German, Hungarian, and Austrian co-production, a rather amazing achievement considering that the Cold War was still very much underway, with Hungary and Austria on opposite sides of the so-called Iron Curtain.

Although Hollywood has routinely dealt with aspects of World War II through war films and holocaust films, the task of understanding the antecedents and reasons for the war has been pretty much left to European film makers. Mephisto examines the premise that leaders who commit genocide and wars of aggression cannot exist separate from the cooperation and/or indifference of millions of nationals. Works of art routinely call to account business, financial, and industrial leaders who have collaborated in the activities of corrupt regimes, but what makes Mephisto unique in this genre is that it portrays culpability in the artistic community itself.

The central character, Hendrik Höfgen (Klaus Maria Brandauer), is a talented but vain young actor trying to get ahead. He hones his acting skills by day and refines his movement skills at night under the tutelage of a black dancer (Karin Boyd), who is also his lover. Though hard-working and ambitious, he is hardly more than merely another good actor among the multitude of good actors. His politics are initially left-leaning, like most of his fellow actors, and he even moves from Hamburg to Berlin ostensibly to find work as an artist “of the people.” He meets, courts, and marries Barbara Bruckner (Krystyna Janda), the daughter of a well-connected man of the bourgeoisie, who is also in charge of the State Theatre. Consequently, his fortunes now improve as he gains access to better parts, culminating in his winning high praise for a brilliant performance as Mephisto in Goethe’s “Faust.” At about the same time, the power and influence of the Nazis is rising. Some of Höfgen’s friends are protesting and want to organize resistance. His wife, father-in-law, and many other colleagues emigrate to France to escape the Nazi influence. Höfgen, however, is enjoying his newfound success and notoriety and prefers to dismiss the instances of Nazi atrocities as anomalies. He wants to concentrate on refining his art and appearing on stage, so he closes his eyes to political developments.

Höfgen takes a temporary assignment outside of Germany in Budapest. By the time he returns to Berlin, the Nazis have gained complete control. One actress who is sympathetic to the Nazi cause encourages him to stay and find a place for himself in the “new Germany.” Höfgen can’t bear the thought of not performing. He reasons that an actor’s craft depends so entirely on command of language that he would be unable to pursue his career outside of Germany. He stays in Berlin and reprises his role as Mephisto.

Höfgen’s magnificent performances as Mephisto bring him to the attention of a Nazi General (probably modeled after Hermann Goering), who is a theatre buff and who anticipates potential propaganda value in Höfgen. Höfgen allows the General to become his “patron”, deciding that if the Nazis are in power, he may as well cooperate. He is appointed as head of the State Theatre, providing the Nazis with an appearance of continuing artistic integrity in Germany and support for the regime by the artistic community. He gains a bit of influence and uses that influence to have his black mistress deported to France (rather than the likely alternative of a death camp) but discovers thereafter that his influence on behalf of friends has been exhausted. His “patron” becomes increasingly explicit as to what is expected on Höfgen (the production of works of nationalistic fervor) and ruthlessly threatening and manipulative. In selling his soul to the Nazis, Höfgen has lost his art and has become merely an agent of propaganda.

There is, of course, symbolism and irony in the fact that the actor chosen by the Nazis to lead the State Theatre had made his mark as “Mephisto.” Consciously or unconsciously, they thereby selected the devil himself as the emblematic validation of Nazi power. It is greatly to Szabó’s credit that he leaves this bit of symbolism to the imagination of the viewer rather than pounding away at it too explicitly. There is additional irony in the fact that Höfgen, who has made his mark wearing the mask of Mephisto on stage, must, in the end, wear the face of fascism in public.

The power of this story derives in part from the very personal nature of its origin. The story of Mephisto is a dramatization of a 1936 novel by Klaus Mann (the son of the famous author, Thomas Mann). The novel, which was also entitled Mephisto, was based on the life of a famous German actor, Gustav Gründgens, who was, at one time, the brother-in-law of Klaus Mann. While Mann emigrated from Germany and even served in the U.S. Army during World War II as manifestation of his opposition to Nazism, Gründgens remained active in the German theatre throughout the war, performing in German propaganda pieces. The character Hendrik Höfgen is based on the life of Gründgens.

Although the story could be interpreted simply as the corruption of one man’s soul or as specific to the era of rising Nazi power in Germany, the story also has universality. It questions the relationship between artists in general and totalitarian regimes whenever and wherever they exist and engage in brutality. Can artists be true to their art if they are practicing it in deliberate indifference of what is happening in the contemporaneous society? Can artists produce quality aesthetics if the content or emphasis of their works are required to be consistent with political agendas? It is interesting to contemplate that the Hungary in which Szabó operated in 1982 was one in which artists also labored under the constraints of totalitarianism – in the form of the communist regime.

Mephisto won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Film in 1982. The performance by Klaus Maria Brandauer as Höfgen is the heart and soul of the film. Höfgen is not an appealing character but is multi-layered. Brandauer provides the required nuanced performance, revealing his character’s self absorption, lack of principle, and almost obsessive need for the attention and validation that derives from fame. The performances of the remainder of the cast are consistently good. Szabó’s direction of the film is capable but the pacing of the story is sometimes overly frenetic. Although the running time is 144 minutes, this is a film that could have benefited from being somewhat longer to permit a more leisurely exposition. The cinematography skillfully balances lush and grotesque images, symbolizing the conflict between aesthetics and rising totalitarianism. It is filmed in German and appears with white English subtitles for the American release.


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You might want to check out these other excellent films from Hungary:

Colonel Redl
The Red and the White


Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: VHS
Video Occasion: Better than Watching TV
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age