Later Years and Death
Riefenstahl celebrated her 101st birthday on 22 August 2003 and, according to one tabloid in 2007, married Horst Kettner.
Leni Riefenstahl died in her sleep on the late evening of 8 September 2003 at her home in Pöcking, Germany. She had been suffering from cancer. She was buried in Munich's Waldfriedhof cemetery.
There was varied response in the obituary pages of leading publications, although most recognized her technical breakthroughs in film making:
The Daily Telegraph wrote that she
was perhaps the most talented female cinema director of the 20th century; her celebration of Nazi Germany in film ensured that she was certainly the most infamous...Critics would later decry her fascination with the athletes’ physiques as fascistic; but in truth her interest was born not of racist ends but of the delight she, as a former dancer, took in the human form.The Independent wrote that
Opinions will be divided between those who see her as a young, talented and ambitious woman caught up in the tide of events which she did not fully understand, and those who believe her to be a cold and opportunist propagandist and a Nazi by association.The Independent also offered
At the end of her long life she was still the controversial femme fatale of German films...She was interested in beauty, adventure and films, but she was famous for being the woman you love to hate.Read more about this topic: Leni Riefenstahl
Famous quotes containing the words years and/or death:
“You can hardly convince a man of an error in a life-time, but must content yourself with the reflection that the progress of science is slow. If he is not convinced, his grandchildren may be. The geologists tell us that it took one hundred years to prove that fossils are organic, and one hundred and fifty more to prove that they are not to be referred to the Noachian deluge.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“What we think of as our sensitivity is only the higher evolution of terror in a poor dumb beast. We suffer for nothing. Our own death wish is our only real tragedy.”
—Mario Puzo (b. 1920)