In the 16th century, an expedition of Spanish soldiers, lead by Francisco Pizarro, travels down the Amazon in search of gold. The journey becomes more perilous with every step, the Spanish and their Indian slaves rapidly falling victim to the elements. Pizarro declares that a scouting party led will move ahead, and must return within two weeks. Don Ursua will lead the party, with Don Aguirre second in command.
Werner Herzog’s Aguirre, the Wrath of God plunges the viewer into the heart of madness, fully realized through the eyes of a man with a lust for power that triumphs over all else. The scouting party makes its way through an Amazon jungle teeming with billions of shades of green, which spiral into seeming eternity. Food is scarce, hostile natives are plentiful, and the Spanish are greatly outmatched. They may be settlers, but the jungle seems dizzyingly claustrophobic, natures coiled as if it may spring to life and devour every foreign element that dare trespass. Where many films use nature as a beautiful symbol for harmony, in this film, it is a WMD.
The scouting party rapidly falls apart. Aguirre (Klaus Klinski) moves with a queasy limp, with a head that seems to swivel 360 degrees, his intense eyes not possessing bright intelligence, but dark cunning. He cares not for gold, but for power, and gleefully seizes the chance to overthrow Ursua. Aguirre declares independence Spain, claiming South America as his territory, a bold claim considering the size of the scouting party. He appoints a fat, lazy bureaucrat to be his puppet king, though Aguirre finds this man to be unsatisfactory as well. Little time passes before Aguirre declares himself the new king, feverishly driving the party forward on a giant raft.
Food quickly runs out, Indian attacks intensify. The tragic excess of old Europe sticks out like a sore thumb; the party has cannon, horse, and a sedan chair for Aguirre’s daughter, but rotten fruit for nutrition. Aguirre becomes increasingly unstable, pompously bragging about his hollow empire, ruthlessly striking down any member of his own party that utter a word of doubt. As we watch Aguirre’s sanity deteriorate under the crushing weight of his failed dream, images of Adolf Hitler pounding a battle map and ordering non-existent armies into battle flood into our minds.
Watching the film, one can imagine a similar intensity from Herzog. There is much labor to every movement, a numbing energy to the slow river voyage. Herzog and his crew of eight worked through conditions similar to the horrific ones the party faces, with violent tempers and an aura of lawlessness decorating the production. Incidents involving Herzog, Klinski, and pistols have become filmmaking legend. Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now became well known for a similarly hellish production and themes, but Herzog did it first, and better.
Aguirre, the Wrath of God paints a searing indictment of those who would forsake everyone in their vicious quest for power, and serves as a deadly warning to those who would attempt to indulge their insane fantasies. Herzog suggests that whatever mad dream a greedy villain may possess, the forces of nature will inevitably shatter it to pieces, along with those who follow. We can only hope so.
5 out of 5
