As many of you know, I am a history buff. It’s always fascinated me and was my favorite subject in school. With that in mind, it might surprise you that I haven’t seen this film until now.
Directed by Werner Herzog, Aguirre, the Wrath of God is a 1972 historical drama, loosely based on the title character’s 16th-century expedition. Under orders to find The Legendary El Dorado, Aguirre seizes control of his party, forcing his subordinates further and further into the unexplored jungle, facing floods, hostile natives, and ration shortages. This leads to low morale, madness, and tragedy. While in real life his men eventually mutinied against him, film Aguirre ends things alone, monologuing in his madness.
Herzog shot the film on a $300,000 budget, and at times it’s noticeable, as nothing overly elaborate—with one minor exception—occurs on-screen. While this could be a potential negative, it forced Herzog to concentrate on the film’s technical elements and Aguirre’s characterization. From what I’ve gathered, Herzog didn’t rehearse, stage or storyboard the scenes beforehand, framing each shot spontaneously on-location. Combined with the budget, this gives the film a dirty, raw feeling; while not the same, I’d compare it to Texas Chainsaw Massacre’s quasi-documentary look.
This was the first film Herzog made with Klaus Kinski, beginning a professional relationship that lasted fifteen years. While Kinski was not the easiest actor to get along with due to his frantic behavior, Herzog always managed to get excellent performances out of him, and Aguirre is no exception. From the beginning, the audience is inside Aguirre’s head, knowing what he’s thinking without Kinski even having to utter a word. By the time he usurps command, we know how things will end for him. Not surprisingly, the pair disagreed over how Aguirre should behave during the last scene, with Kinski wanting his madness to be expressed theatrically; in essence, he wanted to go Nic Cage. Wanting the scene to be restrained, Herzog let Kinski play the scene his way for over an hour. When he was too exhausted to continue, the director got his way.
The rest of the cast is nothing to run home about, ranging from decent to meh. Del Negro’s monk is the closest thing to a memorable side character, mainly because he’s at odds with Aguirre in several scenes. The flute-playing native comes close, but his only story purpose is his gimmick. From what I’ve gathered, the actor was mentally challenged and hard to work with because he scared easily. I don’t like to use the phrase “he’s playing himself,” but in this case, it’d fit.
Like it or hate it, this is definitely a film cinema buffs should watch once. It’s an excellent example of how a genius and creativity can overcome budget constraints, and how one performance can carry a film. It’s easy to see how Herzog built a career in Aguirre’s wake, and how the film inspired many, including Francis Ford Coppola while making Apocalypse Now. Now I have an image of Kinski yelling a certain Colonel’s dialogue running through my head.
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