Zur Herausgabe der DVD in den USA
und schlimmerweise, wie vorzusehen, auf der Basis der durch die Goethe Org.versauten Version, weil die andere noch nicht da ist.

Night of the living dead
Halloween is here, but it's springtime for Hitler in DVD-Land.
BY LANCE GOLDENBERG <http://tampa.creativeloafing.com/gyrobase/Results?author=oid%3A50>

It's the creepy-crawliest time of year, when we're encouraged to dress up and face down our favorite demons -- so what better time to curl up with Our Hitler, a seven-and-a-half-hour haunted house of a movie? And don't dare gloss over that Our in the title (added in the late '70s by Francis Ford Coppola, the film's American distributor) -- this isn't a movie about Uncle Adolph so much as it's an epic meditation on humankind's ooky underbelly and our collective complicity in evil.
Like some particularly hellish Wagnerian opera reconfigured by alien ethnologists and beamed in from outer space, Hans Syberberg's Our Hitler opens on a pastoral scene that ruptures to reveal a field of stars and then a single luminous teardrop at the center of the cosmos. Both lyrical and hysterical, grandiose and crammed with kitsch, Our Hitler (full title: Our Hitler: A Film from Germany) combines performance art, puppetry, densely layered lecture-monologues and exquisitely baroque visuals to deconstruct not only Hitler but all preconceived notions of "madmen" and "geniuses" and "culture" itself. This is, after all, the film that famously declared, "Every time I hear the word 'art,' I reach for my revolver."
Against a backdrop of gloriously artificial sets that manage to find weird resonances and occasional profundities in Nazi folk art and cheap snow globes, Syberberg gives us Hitler as historical figure, pop icon and devil-made-flesh, depicting him as the child killer in Fritz Lang's M, as Rumplestiltskin rising out of Wagner's grave and rapping with the projectionist screening the movie that we're watching. The only bonus feature on Facets' new DVD of Our Hitler is a rough doc on the film's 1980 New York premiere, but who needs extras when the film itself is almost an embarrassment of riches? As Syberberg tells us at the outset, "Either give your audience a stunning show or stay home with your canary." Our Hitler leaves the canary at home and blows open the gates of perception.

This is from a string of weekly newspapers in major cities (Atlanta, Chicago)