REVIEW: DVD Release: Aguirre, Wrath Of God

Film: Aguirre, Wrath Of God
Release date: 28th February 2000
Certificate: PG
Running time: 90 mins
Director: Werner Herzog
Starring: Klaus Kinski, Ruy Guerra, Helena Rojo, Del Negro, Peter Berling
Genre: Adventure/Biography/Drama/History
Studio: Stonevision
Format: DVD
Country: West Germany

Largely viewed as a cornerstone of New German cinema, this was the film that, as it was being made, saw director Werner Herzog’s life unfold before him. Ten years after the completion of this film he made another, Fitzcarraldo (1982), which he claimed he would live or end his life by. That film will be what Herzog is most remembered for. So, in a sense, his visions of “destiny” while making Aguirre, Wrath of God were correct. In other words, Werner’s filmmaking journey has been the overriding passion and priority in his life, largely due to the martyr-like commitment he has made to his films. And while that film making odyssey peaked at Fitzcarraldo it was with Aguirre... that he really began his journey.

In the aftermath of the defeat of the Inca Empire, a Spanish expedition begins its quest for the legendary city of El Dorado. For the promise of gold and fortunes, the expedition battle all manner of environmental obstacles in search of this place, constantly motivated by the restless energy of second-in-command Aguirre.

While their quest is difficult enough, the perilous cause is handicapped by infighting and differences of opinion. As Aguirre’s ego and obsession slowly threaten to consume the mission whole, the expedition seemingly evolves into the search for a mirage....


Although it is true that there are numerous parallels between this film and Fitzcarraldo., Aguirre, Wrath Of God is much darker in tone. Whereas Fitzcarraldo made you think that almost anything is possible, despite being dominated by the exploits of a man who teeters on the edge of control - not to mention sanity - Aguirre... is much less joyous. Aguirre... tells us that nature will decide what is possible for man to achieve and that man is his own worst enemy. It is the story of an individual’s insatiable desire for wealth, power and fame, irrespective of the damage and misery it incurs for those around him.

Herzog’s film has its roots in the genre of the historical drama. These roots are manifested to some extent in the narrative, which, for the first two acts, revolves around the struggle for dominance of the exploration troop. On one side is Lieutenant Ursua and on the other is Aguirre. Through his use of various devious tactics, Aguirre attempts to manipulate the men around him in order to gain control of the troop and the overall expedition. Even though the titular character has been instructed to act as second-in-command, Aguirre is fascinating in his determination, and his methods often take the audience by surprise. What is particularly of interest to the audience is his unwillingness to visibly take the lead, preferring instead to manipulate via his persuasive skills. In this portion of the film, Aguirre intrigues us as a mysterious, brooding figure, who nonetheless has the strength and will to command the troop in any manner he wanted, if he chose to do so. This is all anchored, of course, by Klaus Kinski’s masterful portrayal of the protagonist.

While the narrative developments concerning the exploration of the Amazonian wilderness and the balance of power are involving, these traditional aspects of historical drama are not the main emphasis of this film. Herzog’s true aim is to disorientate the viewer, who is ostensibly there to watch a story unfold but actually sees something altogether different. It begins with the viewer being arrested by the plodding pace of the film, which, combined with the ghostly beauty of the ethereal soundtrack by Popol Vuh, opens the viewer up to receiving the various undercurrents of the film. These undercurrents projected through the director’s visual focus on the natural environment, such as the early slow-motion shot of the river flowing in full force, are Herzog’s way of communicating the ruthlessness of nature and the role this will play in the film. This concept is one that repeats throughout the filmmaker’s work, including Fitzcarraldo. However, inAguirre, Wrath Of God, we are witness to a group of characters being unable to overcome the power of nature. Apart from the disconcerting scenes demonstrating the suffering endured as a result of their ill-advised venture into the wild, there is an almost indescribable presence of nature itself in the film, permeating it from start to finish. Enigmatic and chilling, Herzog weaves these elements into a film of strange and surreal yet somehow edifying qualities.

Ultimately, this is a film driven by the endeavours of man, and the man depicted here is insane. Like other Herzog protagonists, Aguirre is consumed with desire and has no regard those around him. In the final act, the film effectively conveys the grinding process of reaching the inevitable in this doomed mission, as the troop begin to waste away. Even as Herzog subjects his audience to the draining reality of this degenerative situation, he still captures quirky details in and amongst the wilderness that surrounds the men, and shows the environment to be an unflinching foe that stares back callously at the weakness of these mortals.


Authentic, captivating and stultifying in equal measure, Aguirre, Wrath Of God is a visceral portrait of an indomitable, relentless character. Whether that character is Aguirre, the natural wilderness or both only makes Herzog’s film more mind-altering and unsettling, and is all the better because of it. BN

REVIEW: DVD Release: Aguirre, Wrath Of God

Film: Aguirre, Wrath Of God
Release date: 28th February 2000
Certificate: PG
Running time: 90 mins
Director: Werner Herzog
Starring: Klaus Kinski, Ruy Guerra, Helena Rojo, Del Negro, Peter Berling
Genre: Adventure/Biography/Drama/History
Studio: Stonevision
Format: DVD
Country: West Germany

Aguirre, Wrath Of God was chosen as one of Time magazine’s 100 Best Films Ever, describing it as “an examination of madness from the inside.” Aguirre’s influence spread to Hollywood, a clear inspiration for Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now and Terence Malick’s The New World.

1560, Peru. An exhausted group of one thousand Spaniards and captured native Incas, led by the conquistador Gonzalo Pizarro (Alejandro Repulles), search for evidence of El Dorado, the legendary City of Gold.

After much struggle through the Amazonian rainforest, Pizarro orders a group of forty men to travel onwards downriver on rafts to search ahead. The small expedition is led by Don Pedro de Ursúa (Ruy Guerra), with Don Lope de Aguirre (Klaus Kinski) as second-in-command.

The group set off downriver on four rafts. One becomes caught in eddy currents, and, after being forced to return to rescue the soldiers the next day, the remaining explorers discover that the entire raft of soldiers have been murdered.

Aguirre takes the opportunity to lead a rebellion, which results in the leader, Ursúa, being shot and imprisoned. Aguirre manipulates the situation to elect Don Fernando de Guzman (Peter Berling) leader of the expedition, although Guzman is hopelessly inadequate. Aguirre, as the real leader behind Guzman, systematically kills any members of the expedition not pliable to his demands.

The expedition continues on a single, larger raft, although danger increases, as they encounter groups of Incas. Guzman is killed and Aguirre proclaims himself leader of the expedition, continuing to lead his gradually starving band of explorers downriver, towards increasing danger and madness…


Filmed entirely on location in the Amazon rainforest over the course of five weeks, Aguirre had a troubled shoot. While the director, Werner Herzog, felt that Aguirre should be portrayed as a quiet, menacing figure, Klaus Kinski insisted that the character should be a ranting madman. Kinski’s tantrums have become the stuff of legend; although the story of Herzog forcing his lead to act at gunpoint has been refuted by the director, Kinski did shoot off the top of one extra’s finger after a squabble. As in Fitzcarraldo, his later film portraying a madman’s struggle, Herzog blurred the line between film shoot and fiction. After a real-life flood destroyed the rafts built for the film, Herzog incorporated the rebuilding of the rafts into the film itself.

The film was initially produced with an English soundtrack (the common language of the multinational cast, and the language that Herzog felt would benefit the film commercially), but the commonly screened version features a higher-quality soundtrack rerecorded in German. Kinski demanded a huge amount of money for the rerecording session, so Herzog hired another actor to dub his German lines, resulting in oddly unsynchronised dialogue, which only adds to the unsettling atmosphere.

The film has a nightmarish documentary quality; droplets of water mark the camera lens, and scenes appear hurriedly framed (Herzog didn’t storyboard any scenes, preferring to react instinctively to the environment and performances). It’s often difficult to accept the bruised, terrified-looking participants as characters in a work of fiction or the rusting armour as props. In the initial scenes, showing the group struggling through the Amazonian undergrowth, the extras playing Peruvian guides seem perplexed and afraid of their armour-clad companions and their foolish expedition.

Kinski’s performance involves a rat-like posture that he would later employ to great effect in Herzog’s remake of Nosferatu. Added to this is a simian, scuttling walk - a man not entirely stable, even before his eventual descent into madness. Even at the start of the film, Aguirre is a pessimistic and toxic presence among the explorers, but, as the plot unfolds, he becomes more and more unpredictable, lurching between quiet meditation and frenzied outbursts.

The soundtrack is fixated around two themes: the panpipe refrain played by one of the captured Incas on the raft, and Popol Vuh’s strange Moog and choir arrangements, described by Roger Ebert as A “haunting, ecclesiastical, human and yet something else.” Both elements are calm but, used sparingly and accompanied by Herzog’s images, become deeply unsettling.

Much of Aguirre is what you might call ‘pure cinema’. Scenes showing the soldiers struggling to cope with their environment (one studying a captured Inca, one examining a butterfly landed on his finger, one staring forlornly downstream) are of equal or greater importance as scenes involving dialogue. Herzog, filming events in chronological order, documents a real journey and captures dazzling and unexpected moments along the way. However, Kinski’s final speech, in which he gazes down the camera lens as he expounds his vision of the new world, is one of modern cinema’s most arresting monologues.

Werner Herzog would continue to work profitably with Klaus Kinski, particularly in the thematically similar Fitzcarraldo.


If part of the joy of cinema is its ability to act as a window into another time and place, Aguirre succeeds magnificently, somehow authentic and honest, despite its fraught production. TM