{"id":1048,"date":"2018-06-16T12:06:26","date_gmt":"2018-06-16T16:06:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/?p=1048"},"modified":"2018-06-16T18:20:35","modified_gmt":"2018-06-16T22:20:35","slug":"viscontis-four-hour-ludwig-a-momentous-wagnerian-film","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/2018\/06\/viscontis-four-hour-ludwig-a-momentous-wagnerian-film.html","title":{"rendered":"VISCONTI’S FOUR-HOUR “LUDWIG” — A Momentous Wagnerian Film"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\n
Today’s “Wall Street Journal” includes my mini-review of a remarkable film. It’s appended, along with a chunk of my book-in-progress about Wagner the man.<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0The Film Society of Lincoln Center\u2019s current Luchino Visconti retrospective climaxes with more than a week of screenings (June 16 and 22-28) featuring the restored, four-hour version of Ludwig<\/em>\u00a0(1973)\u2014a rare opportunity to properly encounter a magnificent Wagnerian film.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0The story is familiar as a cartoon. Insane King Ludwig II of Bavaria built expensive fairy-tale castles no one wanted. And he squandered a fortune supporting Richard Wagner, who opportunistically played him for the fool he was. He grew fat and ugly, crazier and crazier, and finally drowned himself in a lake.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0I saw Ludwig<\/em>\u00a0when it was first released in the U.S. Helmut Berger\u2019s Ludwig II seemed over the top. Trevor Howard, in a brief cameo, at least looked like Wagner. As with any Visconti film, the mise-en-sc\u00e8ne was memorably luxurious\u2014it was the film\u2019s most notable attribute.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 In fact, Visconti made a 264-minute film that was trimmed for distribution. What I saw was 137 minutes\u2014barely half the movie. In 1980 (four years after Visconti\u2019s death), the original negative was purchased at an auction, then restored under the supervision of the original script supervisor. This version had its premiere later the same year at the Venice Film Festival. Whether the resulting mega-film is precisely what Visconti had in mind, I have no idea. But I am certain that it is a memorable achievement.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 Not only is the story that it tells no cartoon, it reasonably conforms to my own impressions of the dramatis personae, acquired over the course of a lifetime obsession with Wagner. Ludwig is an idealist, an aesthete, unsuited to reign. He is made to suppress his homosexuality. His appreciation of Wagner\u2019s greatness is ridiculed and misunderstood. He detests the pomp of the court and resists military entanglements others regard as noble and patriotic.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 Ludwig was 18 when in 1864 he ascended the throne. His instantaneous agenda was to rescue the financially strapped Wagner, and to collaborate with him in a project redeeming German culture. These aspirations were no more deranged than was Ludwig himself. As his letters confirm, he was eccentric, but certainly no simpleton. He made bequeathing a permanent Wagnerian legacy his top priority. This fairy-tale reversal stunned the ever-beleaguered composer. Ultimately, Ludwig and Wagner served one another royally. Every other factor bearing on their complex friendship of two decades shrinks to insignificance.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 In Visconti\u2019s portrayal the question of whether Ludwig was mad\u2014debated in his lifetime and ever after\u2014becomes moot. Chapter by relentless chapter, Ludwig ever so gradually descends into a condition of dissolute nihilism as a necessary consequence of passions and convictions he will not and cannot subdue.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0The triumph of this reading is that it\u2019s not predicated on unwanted royal duties; Visconti is reflecting on contradictions inherent in the human condition: Wagner\u2019s incessant theme. He has discovered in Ludwig a true embodiment of the Wagnerian pariah. He has transformed Ludwig\u2019s story into a veritable Wagner homage. The charged psychological\/existential topic, the glacial pacing (the opening coronation sequence lasts fully 15 minutes), the luxuriance and amplitude\u2014all this is what makes Ludwig<\/em>\u00a0a Wagnerian film, the most remarkable of its species I have ever encountered.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 Ludwig becomes a solitary figure of numbing pathos. Concomitantly, Trevor Howard\u2019s Wagner, in this full-length cut, is not the usual cartoon cad. There is nothing monstrous about him. Things Wagner said and did are (for once) plausibly enacted. He cavorts on the floor with his big dog. He honestly adores and admires the king\u2014and also shrewdly critiques him behind his back. He paternally grasps the young man\u2019s predicament. And he knows when he must dissimulate.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 Even Ludwig\u2019s enemies\u2014the courtiers for whom Wagner\u2019s genius was a pernicious myth; the doctors and diplomats who conspired to declare Ludwig mad\u2014are quite believably depicted. They are mere mortals, confronting factors they cannot glean.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 Too much critical commentary about Ludwig<\/em>\u00a0fastens on the scenery. But it is magnificent. Visconti so poetically renders one of Ludwig\u2019s iconic nighttime sleigh rides\u2014the white horses, the pristine snow, the lanterns and footmen in livery\u2014that it nearly stops the show. The film\u2019s visual peak is (of course) the Venus grotto at Schloss Linderhof. It is a measure of Visconti\u2019s empathy that Ludwig\u2019s entrance in his swan boat, and his feeding of the royal swans, heartbreakingly transcends any hint of camp. (You’ll find a pertinent clip here<\/a>.)<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 Both these vignettes are accompanied by \u201cThe Song to the Evening Star\u201d (sans voice) from Wagner\u2019s Tannh\u00e4user<\/em>. Visconti\u2019s musical masterstroke is to interpolate Wagner\u2019s then little-known A-Flat Major Elegy for piano as a theme song; it strikes a searing intimate note.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 I almost forgot. There\u2019s a star-turn\u2014Romy Schneider as Ludwig\u2019s cousin, Elisabeth of Austria. Visconti treats her rejection of Ludwig\u2019s early affections as a key to his travails. Near the end, she attempts to see him and is maniacally rebuffed. This nonencounter, played to strains of Tristan<\/em>, is nearly a gloss on the opera\u2019s ending, but with a different outcome. It works.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 And here — as a P. S. — is a pertinent chunk from my book-in-progress “Understanding Wagner”:<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n

 <\/p>\n

Wagner’s written salutations to Ludwig characteristically read \u201cmy most beautiful, supreme, and only consolation,\u201d \u201cmost merciful font of grace,\u201d \u201cmy adored and angelic friend.\u201d \u00a0The notoriously florid effusions of these letters were both sincere and consciously hyperbolic. Looking back, Wagner would say to Bulow: \u201cOh, those don\u2019t sound very good, but it wasn\u2019t I who set the tone\u201d [July 10, 1878]. For his part, Ludwig (whose own letters indeed \u201cset the tone\u201d) supported Wagner faithfully, but not without discrimination or reservation. Meanwhile Bulow was installed as conductor in Munich, and there led the premieres of Tristan und Isolde<\/em> (1865) and Die Meistersinger<\/em> (1868). . . .<\/p>\n

In the midst of [the never-ending subterfuge concealing the Wagner\/Cosima\/von Bulow menage], Wagner whispers to Bulow: \u201cThough we berate the \u2018fool,\u2019 he nonetheless belongs to us, and will never be able to break free of us. All we need now is a little patience. If we can obtain from him all that he has promised me \u2013 intelligible to my innermost self –, just think what an unprecedented and unhoped-for miracle that will be!\u201d (April 8, 1866). Wagner had earlier written to Bulow: \u201cThere is something god-like about him . . . He is my genius incarnate whom I see beside me and whom I can love\u201d (June 1, 1864). And this was by no means Wagner\u2019s only such expression of a platonic love liaison with the king.<\/p>\n

The relationship was further complicated by promises unkept or kept incompletely. Wagner underestimated his financial needs. He changed his mind about assigning his operas to a new Munich festival theater. But it must be said that the 562,914 marks Wagner received from Ludwig over a period of nineteen years was substantially less than what Meyerbeer received for 100 performances of Le<\/em> Prophete<\/em> in Berlin. As for choosing Bayreuth over Ludwig\u2019s Munich \u2013 Wagner was surely correct to situate his Festspielhaus offsite. . . .<\/p>\n

Ludwig got his way with Das Rheingold<\/em> and Die Walkure<\/em> both, premiered in Munich in 1869 and 1870. In 1876 he travelled to Bayreuth, twice, to twice attend the complete Ring of the Nibelung<\/em>. In the aftermath of this first Bayreuth Festival, Wagner\u2019s\u00a0 efforts to cope with the deficit in concert with Ludwig are exhausting merely to read about. He was simultaneously composing Parsifal<\/em>, premiered at Bayreuth in 1882 under Ludwig\u2019s court conductor Hermann Levi. Ludwig could not countenance attending a public performance of the sacred play; in 1884, a year after Wagner\u2019s death, the Bayreuth production was mounted for the king, and the king alone, in Munich.<\/p>\n

These early installments of the Bayreuth Festival, so instantly historic, vindicating Wagner\u2019s genius to the world, were also a vindication of Ludwig, without whose patronage they could never have occurred. Ultimately, the king and his composer served one another royally. Every other factor bearing on their friendship of two decades shrinks to insignificance.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Today’s “Wall Street Journal” includes my mini-review of a remarkable film. It’s appended, along with a chunk of my book-in-progress about Wagner the man. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0The Film Society of Lincoln Center\u2019s current Luchino Visconti retrospective climaxes with more than a week of screenings (June 16 and 22-28) featuring the restored, four-hour version of Ludwig\u00a0(1973)\u2014a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-1048","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-uncategorized","7":"entry","8":"has-post-thumbnail"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2QLHN-gU","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1048","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1048"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1048\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1055,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1048\/revisions\/1055"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1048"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1048"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/uq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1048"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}