Mephisto, Colonel Redl, Hanussen
(Hungary 1981 – 1988) Directed by Isvan Szabo. Second Run Blu Ray Box Set
This remarkable loose trilogy covers a wide span of Mitteleuropa history from the gradual disintegration of the Habsburg Empire to the start of WW1 and the beginnings of Nazism. Take three characters – a theatre actor, a soldier and a clairvoyant (all brilliantly played by Klaus Maria Brandauer) and combine Mephisto and Hanussen with the legend of Faust’s selling of your soul to the devil. Then Colonel Redl’s depiction of the declining power of an emperor to rule well, resulting in the eventual rise of a dictator and a disturbing reinvigoration of an ancient myth.
Mephisto (1981) is based on Klaus Mann’s 1936 novel. Klaus was the son of Thomas Mann the author of such novels as Buddenbrooks (1901) The Magic Mountain (1924) and more relevant, for these films, his 1947 Dr. Faustus.
Hendrick Hofgen (modelled on the real German actor Gustaf Grundgens) is an actor involved in Russian influenced Brechtian stage productions of the early nineteen thirties. He’s ambitious to become an influential personality in the theatre but held back by working in the provinces. At one point the frustrated Hendrick says he wants to undergo “the transformation of a nonedescript actor.” When he’s a success playing Mephistopheles in Goethe’s Faust Hendrick catches the eye of the Minister / President (Based on Herman Goring and played with cunning relish by Rolf Hoppe) who invites him to Berlin where he’s appointed director of the National Theatre.
However the more Hendrick realises his ambitions the more he loses any sense of his real self. He’s shallow and narcissistic with a pathological drive to be an actor, in order to instil an uplifting transcendence for audiences, which for him results in a moral blindness. But initially Hendrick is aware of courting conflict. Sensing danger he holds back. This is amusingly shown when the Minster / President tells Hendrick he has too limp a handshake and in the next scene we see Hendrick using a wooden contraption to strengthen his grip.
Yet once a fascist power structure is established Hendrick fails to leave Germany though still manages to get his black girl friend Juliette (Karin Boyd) out of the country. Eventually the actor’s self deception leads him to become a puppet Faust figure controlled by the whim and will of the Minister / President (ironically now the real satanic force). Hendrick’s eventual fall is presented by his playing of Hamlet not as some critical, self-doubting introvert but a bold heroic superman for the German State, and their top actor is not to be disposed of but live on, experiencing derision and humiliation in this fascist regime.
In Colonel Redl (1985) Alfred Redl (Klaus Maria Brandauer) is the son of a poor railwayman who is totally loyal to the Austro-Hungarian Empire. He is rapidly enlisted into the royal military academy where he exhibits a ruthless sense of duty and efficiency.
Redl’s attracted to Kubinyi (Jan Niklas) a fellow officer yet marries Kubinyi’s sister, Katalin (Gudrun Landgrebe). His possible Jewish background is left unexplored but his marriage of convenience is seen as needing to dispel rumours about his homosexuality. Redl is appointed Head of Military Intelligence by the Archduke Franz Ferdinand (Amin Mueller-Stahl). Redl’s ordered to uncover or invent a plot of about spying carried out by his fellow officers as the Archduke intends to tighten up control and loyalty in the officer ranks.
Yet when evidence of treachery is brought against a member of the General Staff the Archduke refuses to listen to Redl. He’s told that an officer from Ruthenia (then part of Hungary) would be a more suitable subject. “Your doppelganger is dead. Spin your web better” declares the Archduke, knowing that Redl is a Ruthenian and the remark is being directed at his own Head of Intelligence.
Colonel Redl was inspired by John Osborne’s play A Patriot for Me which ended with a drag queen ball. Szabo doesn’t include this but stages more low key sex scenes concerning Redl with women and a young man who’s paid to expose Redl as a spy. We don’t have a period drama about a then perceived decadent morality but a remarkably atmospheric film of ideas concerning the decay of an empire which Szabo has aptly described as “the struggle of the individual amid the storms of history.”
Again Klaus Maria Brandauer has a starring role. This time in Hanussen (1988) the story of a soldier Klaus Schneider who suffers a brain injury during combat near the end of the First World War. Afterwards he is nursed by Dr. Bettelheim (Erland Josephson) who helps him to positively nurture his newly acquired powers of hypnotism, telepathy and an ability to predict the future.
Schneider is put on the musical hall stage to perform as a clairvoyant mentalist with the stage name of Erik Jan Hanussen.
He goes on to predict, amongst many things, the sinking of an ocean liner; the appointment of Hitler as Reich chancellor and the burning of the Reichstag. The latter outcome is cleverly edited over three scenes: the hypnotism of a society woman on stage who’s told to set fire to a curtain. Cut to a Nazi party rally where the speaker talks of their politics bringing a purifying flame. Cut to documentary footage of the burning of books and the Reichstag fire.
Unfortunately during another performance Hanussen hypnotises a man to step on a chair and cry like a crow three times before he’s woken up. This humiliation is reported back to the man who is now a member of the Gestapo. The authorities wish to know how Hanussen knew beforehand about the Reichstag and the Gestapo agent is ordered to arrest Hanussen.
One of the pleasures of these films are their superb staging of events like balls, punishment drills, theatre events, a duel and war scenes. They are precise, powerful and visually beautiful.
Yet apart from big scenic moments the intimacy of intimidating conversations is also on show. Szabo is a master of the held for longer than usual close-up. If Ingmar Bergman’s close-ups reveal the soul of his characters than Szabo’s examination of the face gives you a person’s conscience, contradictory states, their hopes and fears (The interchange of looks between Hendrick and the Minister / President in Mephisto is a suspenseful, treacherous affair of compliance alternating with revolt).
Perhaps Colonel Redl is the best of the trilogy. For me Szabo’s analysis of power and oppression makes it a masterpiece. The brilliant Mephisto is just slightly below Colonel Redl (is Mephisto’s final scene of humiliation just a little too self-consciously staged?)
The riveting Hanussen is regarded, in its last half, as a failure by Szabo. And critics have said that dramatic interest in the Hanussen character is weakened because Szabo left out saying he was a Jew. I don’t really go along with that for there’s some carefully placed, if oblique, inference through the film to suggest Hanussen’s identity. I mainly felt that Hanussen was sometimes a bit episodic and lacked the deeper historical sweep of the other films.
But these are really minor criticisms for what are three of the most remarkably ambitious films of the nineteen eighties. Their 4K restoration by the Hungarian National Archive is outstanding and as usual they are accompanied by Second Run’s exemplary booklet notes.
Szabo’s epic account of the limits to personal freedom and agency, in a dangerous authoritarian world, still speaks powerfully to us.
Alan Price © 2025
Mephisto, Colonel Redl, Hanussen
(Hungary 1981 – 1988) Directed by Isvan Szabo. Second Run Blu Ray Box Set
This remarkable loose trilogy covers a wide span of Mitteleuropa history from the gradual disintegration of the Habsburg Empire to the start of WW1 and the beginnings of Nazism. Take three characters – a theatre actor, a soldier and a clairvoyant (all brilliantly played by Klaus Maria Brandauer) and combine Mephisto and Hanussen with the legend of Faust’s selling of your soul to the devil. Then Colonel Redl’s depiction of the declining power of an emperor to rule well, resulting in the eventual rise of a dictator and a disturbing reinvigoration of an ancient myth.
Mephisto (1981) is based on Klaus Mann’s 1936 novel. Klaus was the son of Thomas Mann the author of such novels as Buddenbrooks (1901) The Magic Mountain (1924) and more relevant, for these films, his 1947 Dr. Faustus.
Hendrick Hofgen (modelled on the real German actor Gustaf Grundgens) is an actor involved in Russian influenced Brechtian stage productions of the early nineteen thirties. He’s ambitious to become an influential personality in the theatre but held back by working in the provinces. At one point the frustrated Hendrick says he wants to undergo “the transformation of a nonedescript actor.” When he’s a success playing Mephistopheles in Goethe’s Faust Hendrick catches the eye of the Minister / President (Based on Herman Goring and played with cunning relish by Rolf Hoppe) who invites him to Berlin where he’s appointed director of the National Theatre.
However the more Hendrick realises his ambitions the more he loses any sense of his real self. He’s shallow and narcissistic with a pathological drive to be an actor, in order to instil an uplifting transcendence for audiences, which for him results in a moral blindness. But initially Hendrick is aware of courting conflict. Sensing danger he holds back. This is amusingly shown when the Minster / President tells Hendrick he has too limp a handshake and in the next scene we see Hendrick using a wooden contraption to strengthen his grip.
Yet once a fascist power structure is established Hendrick fails to leave Germany though still manages to get his black girl friend Juliette (Karin Boyd) out of the country. Eventually the actor’s self deception leads him to become a puppet Faust figure controlled by the whim and will of the Minister / President (ironically now the real satanic force). Hendrick’s eventual fall is presented by his playing of Hamlet not as some critical, self-doubting introvert but a bold heroic superman for the German State, and their top actor is not to be disposed of but live on, experiencing derision and humiliation in this fascist regime.
In Colonel Redl (1985) Alfred Redl (Klaus Maria Brandauer) is the son of a poor railwayman who is totally loyal to the Austro-Hungarian Empire. He is rapidly enlisted into the royal military academy where he exhibits a ruthless sense of duty and efficiency.
Redl’s attracted to Kubinyi (Jan Niklas) a fellow officer yet marries Kubinyi’s sister, Katalin (Gudrun Landgrebe). His possible Jewish background is left unexplored but his marriage of convenience is seen as needing to dispel rumours about his homosexuality. Redl is appointed Head of Military Intelligence by the Archduke Franz Ferdinand (Amin Mueller-Stahl). Redl’s ordered to uncover or invent a plot of about spying carried out by his fellow officers as the Archduke intends to tighten up control and loyalty in the officer ranks.
Yet when evidence of treachery is brought against a member of the General Staff the Archduke refuses to listen to Redl. He’s told that an officer from Ruthenia (then part of Hungary) would be a more suitable subject. “Your doppelganger is dead. Spin your web better” declares the Archduke, knowing that Redl is a Ruthenian and the remark is being directed at his own Head of Intelligence.
Colonel Redl was inspired by John Osborne’s play A Patriot for Me which ended with a drag queen ball. Szabo doesn’t include this but stages more low key sex scenes concerning Redl with women and a young man who’s paid to expose Redl as a spy. We don’t have a period drama about a then perceived decadent morality but a remarkably atmospheric film of ideas concerning the decay of an empire which Szabo has aptly described as “the struggle of the individual amid the storms of history.”
Again Klaus Maria Brandauer has a starring role. This time in Hanussen (1988) the story of a soldier Klaus Schneider who suffers a brain injury during combat near the end of the First World War. Afterwards he is nursed by Dr. Bettelheim (Erland Josephson) who helps him to positively nurture his newly acquired powers of hypnotism, telepathy and an ability to predict the future.
Schneider is put on the musical hall stage to perform as a clairvoyant mentalist with the stage name of Erik Jan Hanussen.
He goes on to predict, amongst many things, the sinking of an ocean liner; the appointment of Hitler as Reich chancellor and the burning of the Reichstag. The latter outcome is cleverly edited over three scenes: the hypnotism of a society woman on stage who’s told to set fire to a curtain. Cut to a Nazi party rally where the speaker talks of their politics bringing a purifying flame. Cut to documentary footage of the burning of books and the Reichstag fire.
Unfortunately during another performance Hanussen hypnotises a man to step on a chair and cry like a crow three times before he’s woken up. This humiliation is reported back to the man who is now a member of the Gestapo. The authorities wish to know how Hanussen knew beforehand about the Reichstag and the Gestapo agent is ordered to arrest Hanussen.
One of the pleasures of these films are their superb staging of events like balls, punishment drills, theatre events, a duel and war scenes. They are precise, powerful and visually beautiful.
Yet apart from big scenic moments the intimacy of intimidating conversations is also on show. Szabo is a master of the held for longer than usual close-up. If Ingmar Bergman’s close-ups reveal the soul of his characters than Szabo’s examination of the face gives you a person’s conscience, contradictory states, their hopes and fears (The interchange of looks between Hendrick and the Minister / President in Mephisto is a suspenseful, treacherous affair of compliance alternating with revolt).
Perhaps Colonel Redl is the best of the trilogy. For me Szabo’s analysis of power and oppression makes it a masterpiece. The brilliant Mephisto is just slightly below Colonel Redl (is Mephisto’s final scene of humiliation just a little too self-consciously staged?)
The riveting Hanussen is regarded, in its last half, as a failure by Szabo. And critics have said that dramatic interest in the Hanussen character is weakened because Szabo left out saying he was a Jew. I don’t really go along with that for there’s some carefully placed, if oblique, inference through the film to suggest Hanussen’s identity. I mainly felt that Hanussen was sometimes a bit episodic and lacked the deeper historical sweep of the other films.
But these are really minor criticisms for what are three of the most remarkably ambitious films of the nineteen eighties. Their 4K restoration by the Hungarian National Archive is outstanding and as usual they are accompanied by Second Run’s exemplary booklet notes.
Szabo’s epic account of the limits to personal freedom and agency, in a dangerous authoritarian world, still speaks powerfully to us.
Alan Price © 2025
By Alan Price • added recently on London Grip, film • Tags: Alan Price, film