Riefenstahl's contention that she is being treated unfairly does have some force. After all, no one condemns the great Sergei Eisenstein for making nationalist films in Soviet Russia, where the government killed even more people than did the Nazis.

However, Riefenstahl's conviction that an artist has no political responsibility for his or her art will strike most viewers as naive at best, and disingenuous at worst. And the idea that "Triumph of the Will" is not propaganda is just plain impossible to take seriously. Riefenstahl defends herself by saying she was hired by Hitler as an artist to make an artistic film, not a political one.

But is "Triumph of the Will" an example of great art? Which is more important, the film's status as a technical masterpiece, or its content, which seems to praise one of history's most evil ideologies? These are the difficult questions that Muller leaves the viewer to consider.

Riefenstahl is also remembered for the critically acclaimed "Olympia," an exhaustive record of the 1936 Summer Olympics, which was revolutionary in its treatment of sports. Many of her innovations are still used today. It is fascinating to watch Riefenstahl describe some of her experiments, like underwater photography of diving events, and setting cameras aloft in balloons (Goodyear blimp, anyone?).

The rest of the film details some of her work with the Nuba tribes of Sudan, and some of her own footage is shown for the first time.

Now Riefenstahl, who has not made a film since the war ended, is working on a documentary to promote the preservation of the tropical seas. She is the world's oldest scuba diver, and a member of Greenpeace.

Is she "feminist pioneer, or a woman of evil?" Muller's three-hour film does not answer the question. But it does a brilliant job of illustrating the superb talent, the energetic drive, and the moral ambiguity of Leni Riefenstahl.