The endeavor to describe this epic work continues with the second and final episode, whose plot, between reality and fantasy, focuses on Kriemhild's revenge and the end of the Burgundians at the hands of the Huns.

Kriemhild's Revenge - Kriemhild vows revenge on Siegfried's grave and, wrapped in a mournful cloak, she heads to the court of the dreadful Attila to offer herself as his bride. Meanwhile, Hagen hides the Nibelung treasure by throwing it into a pit, but he is seen by a page who informs Kriemhild of the event. Kriemhild accepts the marriage with Attila for the sole purpose of taking revenge on her family, and she invites King Gunther and Hagen to the baptism of the child she had with the king of the Huns. Upon their arrival, the Burgundians, deceived by a banquet, are surrounded and repeatedly attacked by the Huns, resulting in a tragic massacre. Kriemhild demands explanations from Hagen about the Nibelung treasure, and during a heated discussion, he kills her son with a blow. This leads to a long battle where all the Burgundians are eliminated, many of whom are burned by the fiery arrows of the Huns. In the end, Kriemhild manages to kill Hagen, and in the heart-wrenching pain of having lost everything, after her revenge is complete, she chooses the ultimate act of suicide.

In the second chapter of the work, Lang almost completely changes his technique. He relaxes in the shots, enhancing the perception of spaces and depths, animating them in their entirety. However, he cools down in the movements, which appear, in some points, less spontaneous, mechanical, perhaps almost permeated by a coldness unconsciously emanated from Kriemhild's pain, the emotional centerpiece of the film. This time, secondary elements gain the same importance as those in the foreground, also thanks to the decentralization of the latter, which allows space and vitality for the antagonists through shots taken from perspectives other than those frontal to the scene, predominantly used in the first chapter. For this purpose, one can see Kriemhild next to the torch, also next to the trunk on the snow, the horde of barbarians that tear apart the innocent scene of children playing ring around a twig, Kriemhild's arrival at Attila's court under the astonished gaze of the Huns, and the cradle (cage) of the little one under the mother's visual control.

Paradoxically, where the faces should have appeared marked, they soften. The features result less rigid, especially along Kriemhild's sorrowful face, where the contrast is extraordinary between the delicacy of the face and the heaviness of her cloak, supported by a sharp crown that nonetheless does not reduce the potential of facial expressions. Lang focuses more on the emotional side, where, I repeat, everything is centered on Kriemhild's necessarily exacerbated state of mind. Also moving is the scene of Attila's joy at the birth of his son, where his rough, square exterior and materiality melts almost instantly at the sight of the little one. Even barbarians have a heart.

Even more touching is the icy disbelief at the discovery of the child's death. In the scene where he holds the child's body in his arms, a grimace of pain drawn on his face and the concurrent, total absence of other emotions makes him collapse onto the throne in search of a reason for acceptance. One can read the tragedy that can strike a man, albeit savage, in losing perhaps the only reason for pride.

Hoping to have been pleasing, as highlighted in the first chapter, I can only confirm the title of "colossal from all points of view" to judge this second episode, globally perfect.

 

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