Review of Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972) by Sebastian C — 07 Sep 2009

Aguirre: The Wrath of God was directed by the fearless Werner Herzog. He embarked on a production/adventure in the Amazon jungle to film an episode of Don Lope de Aguirre's eventful life.

Aguirre is shown as part of a Conquistador's crew. After many days in the rainforest, he tires of being ordered about and decides on becoming the leader of the expedition. No one protests; he is sly, skillful and ruthless. He creates an imaginary Kingdom in those lands ("El Dorado"), names one of the crew members King, and takes his men -and his daughter- upriver, to the conquest of the rest of the jungle.

The film is masterfully developed, building up moments of tension and release until the haunting ending. Throughout, the uncertainty is unbearable. The key here, I believe, is Herzog's treatment of silence, facial expressions, and time. This story about a madman in the jungle becomes monumental Nothing happens for a long stretch, and then a rebellion, a gunfight, a hallucination... The characters are mostly quiet, silenced by Aguirre's own threatening stillness, but Herzog's close-ups of their faces suggest thoughts, plans, schemes, desires. Many of them don't know why they're there (both in the film and in real life).

The cinematography is bewildering and, as Herzog said himself, the jungle acts as a psychological mirror for the characters: their minds are cluttered, dense, and increasingly menacing towards each other as they sail deeper. Dialog is very scarce, but often memorable. One of the director's trademarks, besides the realism of his filmmaking, sometimes so honest that it seems obvious, is his choice of supporting actors: he picked several non-actors who give a fascinating air to the film and take the "documentary" feel even further. When they talk, they seem to be addressing you.

The most obvious standout is Klaus Kinski's terrifying performance as the Wrath of God: brooding and collected like a criminal on death row planning a breakout. He seldom speaks. Kinski acts with his walk and his face. When he talks, the jungle goes silent, and the cast gets nervous. This is one of the greatest actors I've ever seen. He had everyone, even Herzog, on the edge of their seat. The true story behind this painful shoot is only coherent with the powerful performance. Together, actor and director seemed to reach a perfect understanding. They admired each other even if they didn't admit it then. If they hadn't, Aguirre would have never succeeded.