Fitzcarraldo (1982, Germany)
Winner of the Best Director award at the Cannes Film Festival
Jim Tudor - Contributing writer
Madman. In the cinema of Werner Herzog, particularly his collaborations with crazy-eyed actor Klaus Kinski, the word is most common. In Aguirre, The Wrath Of God, Kinski plays a madman conquistador. In Cobra Verde he's mad into slavery. In Nosferatu, he plays a vampire (is that not inherently mad?). And of course in the documentary My Best Fiend, he is outed by the director as a true madman – one that only another madman could know.
Indeed, in those early years of Herzog's far-reaching global challenges set to film, with his don't-leave-or-I'll-shoot! method of motivating actors, the unhinged overlord Herzog belonged with Kinski. So it should come as no surprise that for their sprawling 1982 burst of crackpot cinema, Kinski plays a madman bent on building an opera house deep in the Amazon jungle. In so doing, they fall mega-timbers and hoist a steamship over a mountain. (All practical! Eat your heart out, D.W. Griffith…)
Whoever says, as it's sometimes uttered, that “it's easy to make a movie about how screwed up everything is, it's delivering a quality message of hope that's difficult”, has obviously never seen Fitzcarraldo. Nowadays, it's safe to say that Herzog has left his gun-totting despotic persona far behind. But whenever he begins a sentence with “When we were making Fitzcarraldo…”, you're assuredly about to hear a tale just as crazed, just as obsessive as anything the film's own grand narrative has to offer. Its making is the stuff of legend, spawning its own integral behind-the-scenes documentary, Burden Of Dreams. (The Hearts Of Darkness to Fitzcarraldo’s Apocalypse Now.)
In a filmography that often finds inspiration in the unfinished (the fate of Aguirre’s mission, the source play for Woyzeck), Fitzcarraldo may be the crowning feat, as it begins in “the land where God did not finish Creation”, and again ends with Kinski's fully-deluded “god” character embracing an outcome other than what he set out for. The opera house may go unfinished, but lo, there is opera in the Amazon! And the insane tension of it all – logic versus ambition, man versus nature, etc. - fully mirrors the film's infamous forging.
Kinski and Herzog were truly two of a kind, those madmen. They deserved each other, even as audiences deserved far, far less. They were one of the great director/actor pairings, their work unique, terrestrial, interior, pioneering, bold, and deathly. And Fitzcarraldo may be the last truly massive epic.