I bet you never thought Apocalypse Now, that symbol of artistic freedom and ambition, was actually just the beefed-up Hollywood counterpart to a much more artistically-pleasing foreign predecessor, did you? Well it is, really. In truth, there's very little connection between Apocalypse Now and Aguirre: Wrath of God, unless, like me, your looking for a metaphor to open a review with to show how great you think Aguirre is (or how sub-par, if not terrible, Apocalypse is).
Aguirre, the better mission-down-a-river movie, is the definition of anti-Hollywood. Herzog doesn't use the trip down the river as an excuse for stopping off at as many exciting incidents as he could think of; instead the trip is the whole of Wrath of God - a film that emphasizes the maxim that the journey is more important than the destination. The journey here concerns an expedition - some knights and people of importance but mostly unimportant droogs - in the 16th century, in search of the much talked of, but never seen in the flesh city of El Dorado. Of course, we as an audience know such a city doesn't exist; Herzog's movie a look into how the promise of greatness - the city of gold, after all - can drive people to disregard everything, even themselves and those they care about.
The title character, played by Klaus Kinski, starts off as a second in command, although through mutiny and the slow toll the environment, and attacking aboriginal tribes, take on the crew, ends up the leader. He's the looniest of the bunch; his wife and daughter both part of the expedition and both carried in separate carriages by less fortunate crew members. It's hard for me to say how good Kinski is in the role having not seen him in any other movie - hard to know completely what is actor and what is character from just one role. But he deserves praise anyway; his performance a great caricature of growing self-grandeur and insanity. Kinski's body is constantly swiveled around, as if he feels the powers of gravity pulling him down greater than anybody else. It makes him look less like a human and more a sneaking Gremlin trying to break free from his own flesh.
It's fun to actually just watch Kinski; in one speech, in which he gives himself the film's moniker, he lays flat his character - we, the audience, need not to do much further analysis. It's a film all about observing. And beautiful stuff to observe too, with such a mysterious quality: fog shrouding around the sides of great mountains; the dream-like quality by which one scene seems to meld into the next; the search for a city we know is complete myth. The way Aguirre is filmed is just so natural; natural in the sense that its world is seamless - realistic looking costumes and locations - and also that everything was filmed for real, no Hollywood wizardry here - which gives the impression that the events of the movie were going to take place no matter what and that Herzog was simply lucky enough to be there to capture them. I have a soft spot for directors who fit their own interests and personalities into films - Herzog shows his interest in nature with extended shots of crashing waves and animals scurrying about. The fact he would become a successful documentary filmmaker is written in code here.
The fact that everything was filmed for real is worth noting, at least the difficulty the crew would have faced filming on the river (not being able to fit sound equipment on the rafts being the only explanation why a German film has an English dub - and by the original actors too). The danger should be noted too: the most famous story surrounding the film is of Herzog pulling a gun on Kinski who was refusing to do a scene due to the conditions. The reality of things gives them a unique quality, too: in one scene a horse, causing a nuisance to the emperor, is ordered overboard. This was filmed for real, you can tell; watching the horse run about in the river with only the front of its face visible above water while it hurries to land. There's obvious ethical problems here but just watching this shot is better food for your eyes than any billion dollar special effects porn.
Herzog's art of "showing" is amazing: in one shot we see the emperor, a pompously dressed caricature of greed, munching on his vast meal while his men fight over rations. This shot needs no follow-up or further story thread; inside this shot is one million arguments and deeper feelings all there if the viewer wants to unpack them herself. That's how one should look at the final shot of Aguirre too: I won't describe it, but that wouldn't spoil anything anyway - where this film arrives is more a feeling, a frame of mind, than any describable location. Some people won't like this, finding it gives no real purpose to the journey that precedes it - although Aguirre is less a progression of events and more just different stylistic choices to stir different moods and feelings. If you get to the end of Aguirre and don't think you've went anywhere then you've missed the point somewhere along the river.
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