Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972)

This bulleted list of observations from watching Aguirre, the Wrath of God were written while and after watching the film during the summer between my junior and senior years of college. Following the bulleted list is a blurb-sized stream of consciousness review of further observations I made about the film upon rewatching it for a scholarly film discussion in 2020. My overall rating for the film was 4 stars out of a possible 4. It was the 240th feature-length film to receive my highest rating distinction.

Notes while watching Aguirre, the Wrath of God:

1) I like that it’s to the point. It’s not minimalist. It’s economical.

2) There are times when films feel like five hours when they are only two and films that feel like one hour when they are actually three. But here, I am forty minutes in and it feels like I have watched forty minutes. The film feels real time, and I appreciate it greatly for that. I am able to thoroughly enjoy the film without thinking that it has gone on for too long or that it is over too soon.

Notes post-filmwatching:

1) I think what’s really amazing about Aguirre is that it’s a thriller that isn’t thrilling. It tells a harrowing story about the struggles of searching for a place that the audience knows is nothing more than a legend. There are scenes of violence and tension all throughout, but the film is so beautifully made, its soundtrack by Popol Vuh is so serene, and the cinematography is so breathtaking that you leave the film without feeling that you have been thrilled by its events. Upon reflection, you realize that it is a thriller in disguise.

2) At first, I wasn’t sure how to feel about one of Aguirre’s proclamations in his final soliloquy. He says that he will marry his daughter and begin the purest dynasty. But after thinking about that quote for the last thirty-ish minutes, I have decided that it is a perfect metaphor for colonialism. Colonialists go to a new land to conquer it and wipe out the current inhabitants or enslave them, rather than connect with them and reproduce with them. Colonialists view the natives as swine and disease-ridden creatures rather than beautiful human beings. They do not want to create a superior hybrid race, one made of two races that have both survived the test of time up until that point. Instead, they want to continue their own race, as they feel that this course of action is the best for [their vision of] mankind.

Upon my 2020 rewatching of Aguirre, the Wrath of God, in preparation for conducting a discussion on it with C1 - as they are making their way through my most recent rendition of the greatest films of all-time, for which I have ranked it second - I have made some additional and rather interesting observations regarding this film. Firstly, one of the most incredible aspects of Aguirre, the Wrath of God is its standing within its primary genre: the epic. (Yes, I do realize I labeled it a thriller during my original post-filmwatching observations, and it is a remarkable entry in the thriller genre, but Aguirre is, first and foremost, an epic.) This is the most simplistically presented and shortest epic, yet in so many ways, it is the most powerful and telling epic ever filmed. Also, I understand that they were friends and enemies simultaneously, but I think the decision to cast Klaus Kinski in a film about colonialism, a film radiating with the essences of unsatisfied attempts at cultural and world domination, is fitting. While director Werner Herzog has been adamant in interviews that this was unintentional, it does feel at times like Aguirre the film and Aguirre the character are allegories for the Third Reich and their ultimately foiled masterplans, a theory that is made particularly believable by Klaus’ physical characteristics closely mirroring the Aryan preference.