Herzog on the set of Fitzcarraldo
Werner Herzog has made two or three films that are as close to perfection as the cinema comes, several other films that are fine, at least one film that is just plain bad and no films that I wish I had never seen. His films are strange, often times descents into madness-- they create strange moods in those who see them. They tend to feature men at odds with overpowering environments. They are unlike the films of anyone else.
My favorite is, without doubt, Aguirre, the Wrath of God. It is, I think, one of the greatest of all films, without an off-putting moment. It reaches heights of perfection that most filmmakers only dream about. It centers on a failed mission into the Amazon in search of the fabled El Dorado. It ends with one of the most memorable sequences I've ever seen as Klaus Kinski rages alone on a raft covered with chattering monkeys, making plans for world conquest whilst floating down the river to his demise.
Kinski worked with Herzog on four other films, including Woyzeck (about the dehumanizing effect of society on an unstable young soldier), Fitzcarraldo (about a man who yearns to drag a steamship over a mountain in order to bring opera to the darkness of the rain forest), and Nosferatu (the remake of the classic silent Dracula film). Although it's almost a supporting role, my favorite of the Kinski performances is in Nosferatu-- where he combines the beastiality and sensuality of the vampire in ways that are haunting and unforgettable. It is, in fact, the best thing about that film, otherwise unremarkable, mainly a failure because it chained Herzog to a steadfast plot, something he otherwise tends to avoid in pursuit of transcendence.
Kinski as Dracula in Nosferatu
Fitzcarraldo is another film that suffers due to a plot that seems out of Herzog's comfort range. He seems to work best with stories that center on men failing to overcome the oppressive environments they find themselves. When Fitzcarraldo succeeds-- when he drags the ship over the mountain and then rides to glory down the river with his phonograph blaring the music of Caruso, it strikes one of the falsest notes in the Herzog canon.
If his work with Klaus Kinski provides the most recognizable films in his filmography, his work with other actors may provide the best performances. Consider his films with Bruno S. (The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, Stroszeck) or Eva Mattes (Stroszeck, Woyzeck).
The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, about a man locked in a dark cellar since birth who is suddenly and mysteriously released into a society that baffles him, is the director's second greatest work. In it, Bruno S. gives a performance that is heartbreaking and poetic. He played a similar character in Stroszeck, an equally compelling film that is hampered a bit by it's determined off-beatedness. It's a strange film about an ex-convict, an old man, and a prostitute who move to Wisconsin to live in a trailer home. It says a great deal about the dreams of American immigrants in unexpected and sometimes curious ways.
In Stroszeck, Eva Mattes, an understated, earthy beauty, plays the prostitute. She plays a similar character in Woyzeck, where she won a much deserved Best Supporting Actress prize at Cannes. You won't find acting better than her work her anywhere else.
Mattes and Kinski in Woyzeck
He chose actors not so much for their obvious talents, but for the way they could embody characters. He wanted people in roles that would require them to act very little and mostly respond as they naturally would. That gives his fiction films a documentary quality-- he matched that by giving his documentary films a sometimes fictional slant. Consider in Little Dieter Needs to Fly, about an ex-POW, how some of the actions of Dieter were improvised on the spot to get his point across. He also made the exceptional Grizzly Man, about a man who believed he could live unharmed with bears and My Best Fiend, about his turbulent relationship with Kinski.
Then, there's Fata Morgana, one of the more curious films in his canon. Theoretically a documentary on mirages, it combines stunning and hallucinatory shots of the Sahara desert with a curious performance in a music parlor, the Mayan creation myth, a sea turtle, and songs by Leonard Cohen. It isn't like anything you've seen before. Good or bad doesn't seem to even apply to it-- it feels less like a motion picture and more like an object or an idea. Some may find it boring or insufferable. I found it fascinating.
That is not to say that Herzog cannot make a boring or insufferable film. He made Heart of Glass, a fiction film about a small village with a glass blowing factory. The foreman dies, taking the secret of 'Ruby Glass' with him. The town sinks into despair and eventually madness. The film itself is maddening, combining long, irritating narration depicting the end of days with odd behaviors and actions by actors under hypnosis. (Apparently, all the actors aside from the lead performed under hypnosis to better exemplify the descent into insanity.) The plot gets brutally pushed aside to make room for the oddities, which quickly become dull.
His best known film, by virtue of it's star, Christian Bale, is probably Rescue Dawn, a fictional retelling of Dieter Dengler (of Little Dieter Needs to Fly) and his time in the jungle. Bale lost a great deal of weight, whittling himself down to a skeletal frame (something he does with some regularity, however), Steve Zahn provides a powerhouse supporting performance, and the film brought Herzog's unique style to a new generation. Rescue Dawn is one of the better films of this decade.
Herzog on the set of Rescue Dawn
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