I have to admit I'm ten times more interested in Werner Herzog himself than in the movies he's made. This is rare for me because I pretty much don't concern myself with creator's lives unless something that happens affects their work, which is oftentimes difficult to ascertain. Herzog, though, is a madman, a likable and engaging madman, who makes movies about madmen that make me think about what a madman Herzog is, not what madmen the people Herzog portrays are.
For instance, this movie. Fitzcarraldo, as represented by Herzog, is insane. He's not even falling into insanity or slowly going insane, he just starts from the beginning completely out of his mind. His obsession with opera and his imposing, frazzled-haired quality make great iconographic representations of people driven too much by their impulses and not enough by reason. And the fact that he ultimately succeeds gives this movie more of a surprise ending than you'd expect.
However, Herzog isn't content to merely say, "He was insane," and leave it at that, he has to take it to the next level. He not only actually goes through all the trouble of showing how Fitzcarraldo managed to pull a steamboat over the mountain, he one-ups the character by increasing its circumstances: higher grade slope, not pulling the ship over in pieces, using only natural materials of the time, etc. (See Burden of Dreams. It's a good documentary and very revealing). Herzog did this "to make it more dramatic", you know, in a movie about a dramatically insane person obsessed with melodrama (the opera, the type of drama of which we compare to soap operas or really really melodramatic drama). So what does that say about Herzog? This movie also is a companion piece of sorts to Aguirre, the Wrath of God. It's sort of like the Kurtz perspective, the initial investor who penetrates further into the jungle than ever before and manages to maneuver himself into the favor of the local population as a god-like or at least spiritual figure (somehow). But then again, as a token to the perseverance, the opera house the historical figure built still exists. So not all madness is tragic, and it's certainly kept one peculiar filmmaker going for several years.
--PolarisDiB
For instance, this movie. Fitzcarraldo, as represented by Herzog, is insane. He's not even falling into insanity or slowly going insane, he just starts from the beginning completely out of his mind. His obsession with opera and his imposing, frazzled-haired quality make great iconographic representations of people driven too much by their impulses and not enough by reason. And the fact that he ultimately succeeds gives this movie more of a surprise ending than you'd expect.
However, Herzog isn't content to merely say, "He was insane," and leave it at that, he has to take it to the next level. He not only actually goes through all the trouble of showing how Fitzcarraldo managed to pull a steamboat over the mountain, he one-ups the character by increasing its circumstances: higher grade slope, not pulling the ship over in pieces, using only natural materials of the time, etc. (See Burden of Dreams. It's a good documentary and very revealing). Herzog did this "to make it more dramatic", you know, in a movie about a dramatically insane person obsessed with melodrama (the opera, the type of drama of which we compare to soap operas or really really melodramatic drama). So what does that say about Herzog? This movie also is a companion piece of sorts to Aguirre, the Wrath of God. It's sort of like the Kurtz perspective, the initial investor who penetrates further into the jungle than ever before and manages to maneuver himself into the favor of the local population as a god-like or at least spiritual figure (somehow). But then again, as a token to the perseverance, the opera house the historical figure built still exists. So not all madness is tragic, and it's certainly kept one peculiar filmmaker going for several years.
--PolarisDiB