TITLE: Archive Review: Aguirre: The Wrath of God (1973) AUTHOR: Joe Johnson DATE: 9:51:00 AM ----- BODY:
Dir: Werner Herzog

Anachronism has killed many films that desire to be historically thoughtful. In Werner Herzog’s epic Aguirre anachronism transforms into timelessness. The tale of a sixteenth-century Spanish expedition searching for the mythical city of El Dorado is a taunt and voyeuristic parable for the consumed ego. Lope de Aguirre (Klaus Kinski) leads a mutinous group of soldiers, dragging them into a military conquest for fame and glory. But Herzog’s storytelling contrasts their desires with a continual foiling of Aguirre’s power-lust.

Despite the profound presence of Kinski's portrayal, Aguirre never feels larger than the environment. In one scene, Aguirre's appointed new emperor of El Dorado proudly proclaims that his territory is now six times larger than Spain. His hubris is quickly lampooned. The absurdity of any man, or small army, looking from a small raft into the vast and dense jungle is nearly comical. The land is not the Spaniard’s domain. The Spaniards are its food. They are trapped like a fly in a spider’s net, paralyzed - waiting to be transformed from delusional captives into prey.

One element of anachronism that propels the film is the strange spectacle of Germans playing the Spanish conquerers. Somehow this film would be less intense, less believable if the Spaniards actually spoke Spanish. Kinski and the parallels between twentieth-century German history unite into an overwhelming sense of aggression and emotionless violence. The film isn’t a commentary on the Spanish, but on that insistent human proclivity toward conquest and racism.

Aguirre succeeds because of the film’s proportions. From the opening scene of over 500 men descending a nearly vertical peak, to the bleak circling shots of rafts floating through the jungle, the humans are always set against an insurmountable kingdom. They are insignificant - almost unnoticeable - flecks on the terrain. To dream of a golden city, to hold to European notions of nobility, class and religion, seems utterly absurd against such a world. The viewer is always aware of the size and hopelessness. But we are trapped by Aguirre’s determination and pride. There are moments when it looks as if he will conquer. But in the end, even the vibrant presence of this madman is eclipsed by the unaffected and unending expanse of the Amazon.

**** of *****

Labels: , ,

--------