As big a cult following as Werner Herzog’s Aguirre, the Wrath of God has gathered through the years and as high as its reputation has soared, no words can prepare audiences for their first viewing. Perhaps, this is because the movie is itself of few words. It’s a film about moods, atmosphere, and the jungle is left to do most of the important talking. The easiest things to point out in this most unusual opus are that it’s a superb mystic film, rich in mystery and legend.
Unlike most other great works, however, Aguirre, the Wrath of God is largely a director’s film. Dialogue and performances, though certainly not deficient or dismissible, are of secondary significance. What matters most in the film is the theme and how the images, sounds, and atmosphere communicate that theme.
The film’s success in this regard rode largely on Herzog’s reliance on the jungle backdrop. It’s a place with real dangers and those ignorant of the fact had better turn back. Herzog doesn’t go overboard with costumes, their accuracy being sufficient. There are also no glossy location shots that would become a staple within less than a decade for filmmakers granted such budgets. In this film, Herzog’s only aim was realism and it’s this realism that brings a sense of dread as we watched the doomed mission proceed down a mountain and then on their fateful voyage down the river. It’s the work of a director destined to become a documentarian some day.
Werner Herzog has always been fascinated by man’s foolhardy attempt to conquer nature. It has since become a lifelong obsession whether his subject is Timothy Treadwell or Gonzalo Pizarro, who in 1560 sent a team of conquistadors deep into the Peruvian jungle in search of the mythical city of El Dorado. Though not officially a documentary, in chronicling this story Aguirre, the Wrath of God was made with the same passion and pride in accuracy as Encounters at the End of the World.
Thematically, Aguirre, the Wrath of God is a film of many focuses. Herzog examines the Spaniards’ attitude toward the indigenous people of the forest and the forcing of Westernization, which led to the extinction of many native languages and customs. But the main point of the film is how greed and arrogance blinded Don Aguirre (Klaus Kinski) and his men to the dangers inherit in trying to conquer a new land. They assumed God to be on their side, a mentality that has brought much destruction and war throughout history. Ironically, it is the mission’s priest, Brother Carvajal (Del Negro), who also chronicles the journey in his diary, who remains the most rational member of the expedition.
After establishing the members of the crew and the journey is under way, Herzog steps back a little and allows the camera to talk on his behalf. The shots that follow are collective works of genius. There are many long stretches of nothing but silence expect for the sounds of the forest. It is, after all, nature’s domain and not that of man.
Who could ever forget the shot of the raft carrying corpses drifting down the river? It’s a haunting shot in itself, but what’s truly remarkable is that it raises as many questions as the story of the lost colony of Roanoke. Were these men killed during a native ambush or was it sabotage from within? Whatever killed those men, there is no question that the jungle is mobilizing against the conquistadors and will eventually consume them all. But the increasingly psychotic Aguirre is oblivious to the fact that division will expedite the rate at which they will perish and so splinters off to his doom.
If there is a performance that deserves equal billing with the cinematography in Aguirre, the Wrath of God it’s Klaus Kinski, who’s friendship with Werner Herzog goes back to his youth as a struggling actor and was tested to the limit during the arduous shoot of this film. What a face that man has. He exudes madness with just a glance. Aguirre seems like a dangerous megalomaniac from the start, waiting for the right opportunity to seize control. A particularly effective shot has Aguirre (the man who should be locked up) on the outside looking in at the incarcerated Ursua (Ruy Guerra). Seeing Aguirre against the bars of the cage it is easy to understand what he has become after losing his human instinct, a ravaging beast of the jungle.
The indigenous people are the only humans around to know better than to lose their humility before nature. They have lived in harmony with the land for thousands of years, surviving floods and hurricanes. But they could not survive annihilation by the Spaniards and the diseases they brought. Now the tables have turned and the Spaniards are the ones who are trapped by a world they don’t understand.
Given the limited dialogue, traditional storytelling devices, and narrative in general, the fact that Aguirre, the Wrath of God worked at all is astounding. That it is an artistic triumph is a miracle. Rarely has each shot or each artistic device been used so tactfully by a director. Consider the scene in which Aguirre’s party leads their man-made shelter downstream. The soundtrack stops to parallel the eerie silence heard by the travelers. What dangers or attackers are using this silence as cover? Breaking the silence are the galloping hooves of the horse aboard the raft. What spooked the animal? None of the men will know for sure. What follows is a hallucinatory sequence with the conquistadors driven insane by starvation and diseases, no longer capable of recognizing reality or imagination.
In a haunting close-up, Aguirre stares at the terrified horse as the raft sails past the animal after it’s been thrown overboard. He realizes that animals, through instinct, are smarter than humans when it comes to recognizing danger. The horse could tell it was time to turn back and now it may be too late for Aguirre to do so.
As striking as such individual moments are, Aguirre, the Wrath of God has a cumulative effect. It’s more like an experience that develops inside as we watch the hopeless conquistadors sail downriver. The film’s power is all of one piece, formed by moments of fear, shock, and despair. In the end, we can see that Don Aguirre did not represent the wrath of God but, rather, had the wrath of God cast upon him. Nature ends by taking what was rightfully hers.