From Nazi propaganda to the assault on the Capitol: Venice film festival looks for what unites the far right

Chris Quaglin can’t stop talking about his son. He says over and over again, on camera, that he’s the reason he’s doing all this. Yet he barely got to see him. The baby was born in February 2021. His father was imprisoned in April, and sentenced a few months ago to 12 years behind bars, precisely for all the actions that, according to him, would contribute to a better future for his child. Quaglin participated in violent far-right organizations, promoted white supremacy and, above all, collaborated in the assault on the U.S. Capitol to denounce an alleged election fraud against Donald Trump. In the documentary Homegrown, by Michael Premo, screened these days at the Venice film festival, Quaglin is seen shouting just millimeters from officers on that fateful January 6, 2021: “We are the fucking people. Get out of the way!”

The sentence found him guilty of 14 crimes, including assaulting the police and obstructing Congress. But the filmmaker had already been filming what was going on in the U.S. since 2018. “We started meeting up with people at marches, conventions, churches and bars,” Premo recalls. Finally, he focused on Quaglin and two other activists: Randy Ireland, an Air Force veteran who coordinates an extremist group in New York; and Thad Cisneros, a Latino Texan, father of four children, who defends both Trump and an alliance with Black Lives Matter, which many of his colleagues despise. Quaglin himself says in the film, along with other members of the Proud Boys organization: “I am a proud Western chauvinist and I refuse to apologize for creating the modern world.”

Homegrown offers one of the most nuanced and profound views of the conspiratorial masses who wanted to change the outcome of the polls. “It was essential to do an honest, non-judgmental study of the people who are listening to the appeals to the ‘us versus them’ policy,” says Premo. Pure reality, as opposed to the condescending caricature that the progressive media sometimes draws. And in the middle of the action, a hand-held camera, instead of the typical talking heads of so many documentaries. The premiere comes as Donald Trump is once again fighting for the U.S. presidency against the Democratic candidate Kamala Harris. Thus, the film contains clues to answer a key question: what drives an electrician from New Jersey and thousands of other citizens to go so far?

The Venice Film Festival is broadening its focus. It is questioning populism and the extreme right from one side of the planet to the other and even through time: yesterday, today and who knows whether tomorrow. The documentary Separated, by Errol Morris, is close to Homegrown: it denounces Trump’s immigration policy, which led to thousands of children being separated from their families on the border between the U.S. and Mexico. “Most of them come from Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, fleeing violence. They are some of the most vulnerable children there are. And they come in without their parents,” says Jonathan White, a senior official in the refugee resettlement office, who for the first time agrees to speak on camera. And a film screened in competition, The Order, by Justin Kurzel, tells a true story that took place in the 1980s but is still very much in the news: the rise of an Aryan terrorist organization. The little book from which the insurgents copied their plan, The Turner Diaries by William Luther Pierce, also served to inspire the assault on the Capitol, according to the film.

In Petra Costa’s Apocalypse in the Tropics, Donald Trump is also mentioned. But the documentary travels to South America, investigating the rise of religious fundamentalism in Brazil and how it fueled the triumph of former President Jair Bolsonaro. And it asks when democracy gives way to a theocracy. Or to totalitarianism, as in M. Il figlio del secolo, Joe Wright’s series that adapts the same-name biography of Mussolini, written by Antonio Scurati. Of course, the setting is the 1920s, but when the future Duce proclaims to his fervent henchmen “we are anti-politics,” the echoes resonate to this day. And even more so in the country where Giorgia Meloni governs.

Even the story told in Andres Veiel’s documentary Riefenstahl is not so far-fetched: it looks back at the filmmaker responsible for the Hitler propaganda films Olympia and Triumph of the Will. At the press conference for the film, there was also talk of the upcoming elections in the U.S. and xenophobia towards migrants. These days mark the 90th anniversary of the Nazi meeting that Leni Riefenstahl filmed in Nuremberg. But today the director can also be seen as a pioneer in spreading hoaxes. “I am not responsible for what happened!” she says in archive video footage. The new film, however, recalls her immediate fascination with the Führer, the closeness between the two and the alternative “truth” that the filmmaker continued to spread in later years. As well as the letters and calls of support she received. The film accuses her of having contributed to the deaths of at least 22 people. And it uses her own language to anchor her to her actions: every time the footage includes a lie from the director, it is then refuted with the facts. It is a cinematic achievement and perhaps a clue for progressive media and politicians.

Other clues emerge in Separated: Barack Obama is heard boasting about the increase in migrant deportations. And Jacob Soboroff, author of the book on which the documentary is based, warns: “Biden has not been deliberately taking children away from their parents. But some of Trump’s policies have continued. And now that he is gone, I don’t see the same outrage or people protesting.”

The problem, then, is long-standing and has a thousand facets. With such a boom of political films, the Mostra cannot manage to screen them all. But at least it invites us to delve deeper and seek complex interpretations. Riefenstahl was a pioneer of propaganda, but also a remarkable and advanced cinematic talent. Which, on the other hand, fueled Hitler’s interest in her. “We were soldiers without a flag. The Führer gave us one,” says a Nazi militant in a recording rescued in the documentary.

Trump gave his people a slogan, which was displayed on hundreds of emblems on January 6, 2021: “Make America Great Again.” Half the world saw it on the news, but Premo was there with his camera. Just like in other violent clashes that appear in Homegrown. But that day he experienced the most chilling part of an already turbulent filming experience. “I never thought I would make a film in the U.S. where I would be shot, witness fistfights between political rivals in the street or follow a protagonist through hours of combat in the Capitol,” the director reflects. And he remembers the worst moment: in a tunnel of Congress, crushed against the wall by the crowd, with a gas mask that made it difficult for him to breathe. That is why Homegrown contains images of enormous informative value. And it allows us to understand, in some way, his interviewees, with whom Premo remains in touch.

The defense of “traditional values,” the fear of an alleged racial replacement... But also, and above all, a feeling of injustice and disillusionment. The reasons that the filmmaker detects in the U.S mobilization can also be found in Brazil, where Petra Costa travels, and in many other countries: “I met people who are looking for communities, for somewhere to belong, for goals. And others who feel that the people in charge only serve the big corporations and the rich, and have forgotten the working class. They feel forgotten, abandoned and they are looking for someone to blame.” Cannon fodder for Mussolini’s recipe: “There always comes a time when the lost people need simple words.” Especially when faced with complex problems. The dictator himself explains it at the start of the series M. But the lesson has spread. “Do you think the U.S. needs to secure its borders?” asks Stephen Miller, Trump’s advisor, at a rally captured by Separated.

In the Riefenstahl documentary, we hear what a friend told her when he discovered her first film, The Blue Light: “If the Nazis saw it, you would be their idol.” The contagious power of that woman climbing a waterfall was clear. All that was needed was to put such powerful images to the service of a cause. To skew them. Or to overtly falsify them. Like the news that unleashed a wave of Islamophobic attacks throughout the United Kingdom this summer. Premo sounds the alarm: “In the 21st century, democracies will die not with a shot, as in a coup d’état, but with a whisper, since faith in that idea is eroding from within.” Premo maintains that the Republican Party has already mobilized a team of lawyers and government officials to contest the results of the elections in November. “I don’t think we have learned the lessons of 2020 yet.”

Chris Quaglin is facing 12 years in prison. But his family is also paying the price: his wife is now a single mother and the partner of a convict. Meanwhile, little Nathan is already three years old. One day they will explain to him why his father is not there. Who knows whether he will understand it.

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