In the final three episodes of the series, the image of elite discipline surrounding the SS is stripped away to reveal a far darker and more disturbing reality. Behind the façade of military excellence lay poorly trained recruits driven not by honor, but by blind ideology and a complete absence of remorse. As their role expands from the battlefield to the brutal control of concentration camps, the narrative exposes how ordinary men became perpetrators of systematic violence, carrying out atrocities with chilling efficiency while maintaining the appearance of normal lives beyond their crimes. These episodes push further into the unsettling contrast between barbarity and everyday existence, showing how members of the SS could participate in unimaginable acts and then return to social settings as if nothing had happened. The story then draws a direct line to the present, confronting the uncomfortable truth that, despite overwhelming historical evidence, remnants of admiration and myth still persist in certain circles. It’s a gripping and unsettling conclusion that forces viewers to question how such distortion of memory can endure—and why it still matters today.
Without words, Ron Fricke shows us the world, with an emphasis not on 'where,' but on 'what's there.' It begins with morning, natural landscapes and people at prayer: volcanoes, water falls, veldts, and forests; several hundred Balinese Hindu men perform kecak, the monkey chant. Indigenous peoples apply body paint; whole villages dance. The film moves to destruction of nature via logging, blasting, and strip mining. Images of poverty, rapid urban life, and factories give way to war, concentration camps, and mass graves. Ancient ruins come into view, and then a sacred river where pilgrims bathe and funeral pyres burn. Prayer and nature return. A monk rings a huge bell; stars wheel across the sky. (Click CC for places description)
Researchers discover film footage from World War II that turns out to be a lost documentary shot by Alfred Hitchcock and Sidney Bernstein in 1945 about German concentration camps liberated by allied troops. When Allied forces liberated the Nazi concentration camps in 1944-45, their terrible discoveries were recorded by army and newsreel cameramen, revealing for the first time the full horror of what had happened. Making use of British, Soviet and American footage, the Ministry of Information’s Sidney Bernstein (later founder of Granada Television) aimed to create a documentary that would provide lasting, undeniable evidence of the Nazis’ unspeakable crimes. He commissioned a wealth of British talent, including editor Stewart McAllister, writer and future cabinet minister Richard Crossman – and, as treatment advisor, his friend Alfred Hitchcock. Yet, despite initial support from the British and US Governments, the film was shelved, and only now, 70 years on, has it been restored and completed by Imperial War Museums. This eloquent, lucid documentary by André Singer (executive producer of the award-winning The Act of Killing) tells the extraordinary story of the filming of the camps and the fate of Bernstein’s project, using original archive footage and eyewitness testimonies.
Hitler’s rise to power was a unique moment in history. Germany suffered a humiliating defeat in WWI; now it's crippled by massive war reparations. Hitler offers a scapegoat: the Jews. The Nazis are quick to institute anti-Semitic laws and stoke distrust of the Jews. Anyone deemed 'undesirable,' from political opponents, to the handicapped, gypsies and Jews are sent to camps. There they are either worked to death, starved or executed. But just how much did the rest of the world know of what was going on?
These episodes push further into the unsettling contrast between barbarity and everyday existence, showing how members of the SS could participate in unimaginable acts and then return to social settings as if nothing had happened. The story then draws a direct line to the present, confronting the uncomfortable truth that, despite overwhelming historical evidence, remnants of admiration and myth still persist in certain circles. It’s a gripping and unsettling conclusion that forces viewers to question how such distortion of memory can endure—and why it still matters today.