Aguirre, The Wrath Of God, directed by Werner Herzog (1972)

"We are surrounded by images that are worn out, and I believe that unless we discover new images, we will die." Werner Herzog.

1560, The Andes, South America. Spanish conquistadors descend from the clouds towards the Amazon River. Carrying the symbols of civilization, the cross and the cannon, they are in search of the mythical El Dorado and the riches it will provide. They are led by Aguirre (Klaus Kinski), the Shakespearean madman who will endeavour to conquer nature in his deranged lust to imprint himself on history. Of course, they are really led by an obsessed German film director, Werner Herzog, who will not be stopped in his eternal quest for ‘new images.’ We are compelled to follow…
We are set adrift on rafts with guns, animals, and slaves and swept into a hallucination as the silence of the jungle and the eerie calm of the river take their effect. Down river we go. Water appears on the camera lens. Aguirre merges with Kinski stranded on a raft with Herzog. Men fall from arrows launched by invisible forces. A courtesan in a blue dress is enveloped by the jungle. A horse with a blue hood is thrown overboard. Whirlpools mix with circular panning shots to create vertigo. Is this a movie or a feverish dream?

Aguirre, The Wrath Of God, deals with man’s instinctual folly to play God. Hitler is summoned as a German reference, Hussein could be a recent manifestation, and the film director himself is not above suspicion. As Aguirre descends further down river, and deeper into madness, his mission moves from rebellion against social authority to an open revolt against the universe itself. In the battle between you and the world, back the world.
One by one the supporting cast disappear amidst the omnipotent surveillance of Herzog’s camera and Aguirre’s haunted visage. A mouse transports its litter to safety, a boat appears in the treetops, a native holds a bible to his ear and a severed head challenges Aguirre’s manic authority. We continue to ride the river, realizing at some point that the making of the film has actually become the film we’re watching. Is the denial of reality the last refuge?
The dream ends with one of the most telling images in cinema’s brief history. The camera rushes across the water to find the raft, almost still, floating on the surface of the wide river. Aguirre stands in the center, motionless, surrounded by corpses and hundreds, if not thousands of monkeys who have swam aboard. As the camera circles once again, we recognize that Aguirre has been punished and rescued by his own delusions. An emperor at last, he surveys his kingdom. His megalomaniac quest for power has reached its inevitable conclusion and as the credits roll - we are finally released from his gaze.
Though now over thirty years old, Herzog’s images are better than new. Aguirre, The Wrath Of God is a powerful film.