Bergkristall is already, due to its literary source, a work of massive importance, being the first adaptation of a text by Adalbert Stifter, one of the 19th century’s outstanding German-language writers. For a long time, Stifter had a bad reputation among the German literati as his writings were deemed petty-minded and pious, epitomising German history’s arguably most hated period prior to the 20th century, the Biedermeier.
This was probably the reason that Harald Reinl chose this short 1845 novella for his feature debut. He could be reasonably sure that its story of a man’s fall from society’s good graces, and his loss of faith, only to be saved by something like a Christmas miracle, would speak to an audience obsessed with religion due to the moral and political vacuum following WWII (or with simply too much guilt on its collective soul, combined with a fear of human justice whose limits the film clearly delineates).
Reinl would continue in this vein with Gesetz ohne Gnade (1951) and Hinter Klostermauern (Behind Monastery Walls, 1952), with (pretty basic concepts of ) Christianity later also looming large over his Winnetou movies (1963-65), not to mention his unambiguously titled … und die Bibel hat doch recht (1977), or the Bible is right. Gesetz ohne Gnade is also closely connected to Bergkristall via its claims for authenticity. Bergkristall stresses its slightly neorealist ambitions, while leaning on the style of the Ufa documentary department in Bergfilm spectacles, by crediting the participation of local amateurs in the production before the actors; while Gesetz ohne Gnade stars the author of its source material playing a version of his younger, rebellious self.

Olaf Möller