Documentary Fest! Lo and Behold (2016); I Am Not Your Negro (2016)

Lo and Behold (2016)

Director: Werner Herzog

A fascinating look at the many aspects and implications of the Internet, though not quite as focused as some of its legendary director's other films and many documentaries.

As he's done with many of his documentaries, Herzog found his muse in his own insatiable curiosity. Wanting to get a better feel for the Internet and its many impacts in today's world, he sought out people involved in its creation and uses, both beneficial and damaging. These include some of the men on the original design team who created the very first servers and connections between California and New Jersey, people whose lives have been crippled by the ubiquity of electronics, people who lay out various doomsday scenarios made possible by our modern world's connectivity, and plenty of other interested parties.

While the width of the net that Herzog casts does manage to catch many people and subjects of interest, it also results in a general lack of any single, driving force or question. One can infer several larger, compelling implications from many of the segments, though there are several that seem more like tangential curiosities. For example, the film will have a section on how a single cyber attack or severe malfunction could essentially wipe out a power grid in much or all of entire countries. Then you will get a segment interviewing a single, addled old programmer rambling on about some wild conspiracy theories that seem to have little bearing on the larger picture. Nearly all of the sections of the documentary are of interest, but to such wildly varying degrees and quality that I felt myself wishing for a bit more cohesion from time to time. It does help that Herzog's unique brand of dry, quirky, dark, and sometimes unintentional humor can lighten the mood from time to time and put his novel stamp on this film as with nearly every other documentary I've seen of his.

Given that the Internet is arguably the single most powerful tool created by humans and that it is not going anywhere in our lifetimes, this is certainly a documentary worth checking out. It doesn't have the focus or power of some Herzog docs like Grizzly Man or Cave of Forgotten Dreams, but it does allow us to follow the man's ever-inquisitive and refreshingly unflinching trains of thought.

I Am Not Your Negro (2016)

Director: Raoul Peck

Captivating look at genius American author James Baldwin and his views on race relations and what it means to be black in the U.S.

The documentary is focused on Baldwin, a gay African-American man who was one of the more influential authors and civil rights critics for most of his life, primarily between the 1950s and 1970s. While Baldwin achieved high praise for his stories and novels at a relatively young age, he was just as talented and passionate a lecturer and debater - skills which he put to work by befriending and helping such civil rights leaders as Medgar Evers, Malcolm X., Martin Luther King, and others.

I Am Not Your Negro traces all of these major elements of Baldwin's life solely through the man's own writings. Instead of commentary from associates, professors, or the filmmaker himself, the documentary lets its subject speak for himself. This was a wise decision for director Raoul Peck, given just how brilliant, articulate, thoughtful, and poetic James Baldwin was. There is a richness to the man's thoughts and words that demands close attention and multiple exposures. There really was nobody else who could have explained his experience as a black man in this country better than Baldwin himself. Enhancing the narrative are the many photos and video clips of Baldwin on late night talk shows, in college lecture halls, or in public debates over the question of race, racial inequality, and the ugly history of African-American abuse in this country. It's one thing to hear the man's moving and impassioned words read to you by a subdued and solemn Samuel L. Jackson (who did a phenomenal job here), but seeing Baldwin's facial expression and physical postures and movements adds a strength to the man that can be missing from mere text or sound bites.

Further elevating this documentary above many of its ilk is how director Raoul Peck regularly intersperses video from modern times to reflect the ways that many of the social ills which Baldwin witnessed are still present in this country today. A segment focusing on Baldwin's writings on the horrors born of racism has equal modern impact when heard over video clips of African-Americans being beaten or killed in the 21st century, making it all the more clear that we are far from beyond such disturbing problems.

Had it not been for the amazing documentary O.J.: Made in America being released last year, I feel that I Am Not Your Negro would have won the Academy Award for best documentary. It is of the highest caliber, and it is one that everyone should watch at least once. 

Before I Die #548: Stroszek (1977)

This is the 548th film of the 1,160 films on the "Before You Die" list which I'm gradually working my way through.

Director: Werner Herzog

In his native Germany, this is about as good as it gets for
Bruno: eking out a few bucks by playing music in scuzzy
alleys. It beats getting pummeled by sadistic pimps, anyway.

Very well-done film, though rather depressing in its honesty.

Stroszek is the story of Bruno Stroszek, a troubled man in Germany who has spent much of his life in various mental institutions and/or prisons. Bruno is hardly a raving maniac, though he is an extremely passive and aimless alcoholic, who also is understandably agitated at his general state and the world around him. When not in an institution, he lives in a run-down apartment littered with garbage. He is constantly tormented by a pair of thuggish pimps who not only denegrate Bruno constantly, but who also intermittently steal his "girlfriend," Eva, from him. Eva occasionally turns to prostitution to make money, but she has a soft spot for Bruno, to whom she turns when her pimps abuse her more brutally than usual. Bruno and Eva eventually decide to get away from their torment by joining their neighbor, Scheitz, to emigrate to Wisconson in the United States. Scheitz is an elderly man who knows a Wisconsin native, a mechanic, who can put them up for a short time, while they try to chase down the American dream.

Things start modestly but hopefully for the trio of German immigrants. Bruno gets a job in the mechanic's shop and Eva begins waitressing. They save enough for a down payment on a mobile home. Before long, though, their new environment turns on the trio. No other job prospects turn up, the debts begin to mount, and there is little sympathy from any of the locals. Things go from bad to worse, forcing the trio to all take their own desperate actions, with unsavory results.

File this movie along with the many others that we can categorize as "Required One-Time Viewing" It's a film that nearly eveyone should watch, but need not revisit. The story is a sad one, featuring a rather pitiful protagonist, set in two horribly drab places, where depressing situations are shown as the norm. Fortunately, there is a certain amount of humor built into the film. Bruno's rants against the heartless consumerism in the U.S. can often be funny. They can also sometimes ring so true as to be not at all funny. The boorish behavior of the Wisconson locals is at times amusing in its general doltishness, though it is not at all funny when it turns into callousness towards our struggling German immigrants. The final sequences, set off when Bruno and the elderly Scheitz attempt to rob a bank, start in hilarious fashion, but then spiral into horribly bleak territory.

One of many comic scenes which add levity to an otherwise
bleak story and movie. The old man Scheitz is a special type
of demented case. Who better to literally ride shotgun?

These disparate tones may suggest that the movie would feel splintered in places, but such is hardly the case. Everything feels highly organic, even when it borders on absurd. Just when the picture threatens to become too depressing to merit continued viewing, a welcome dash of subdued humor comes along to ease the burden. Conversely, just when things may start to become a bit too comical, some nasty little turns bring us crashing back to the reality for Bruno, Eva, and Scheitz. Herzog did an amazing job of keeping the balance just right throughout the movie, and he made sure that the final statement leaves a clear impact.

With every Werner Herzog movie I see, my respect for him grows. His subjects are not the light and fluffy ones of escapism. They are hard looks at the realities of human life which many would rather not be exposed to. Herzog decides to look directly into these places, and his exceptional skills as a film director result in movies that, while often fictional, provide knowledge about the darker aspects of the human condition that more of us should be willing to gain.

That's 548 filmsm down. Only 612 to go before I can die...

Before I Die #546: Nosferatu: Phantom of the Night (1979)

This great poster from the original U.S. release in
1979 has a great caption at the top. It suggests many
of the singular themes of the movie.

Original German Title: Nosferatu: Fantom der Nacht

Director: Werner Herzog

Scary, but not in a traditional horror movie sense. It is, despite being a remake, a visionary movie, however you look at it.

In 1979, maverick German director Werner Herzog decided to make a modified version of the 1922 horror masterpiece Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror by F.W. Murnau, a director whom Herzog greatly admires. The resulting film, though certainly faithful in many basic ways, bears many of the very best hallmarks of Herzog's finest movies.

It's worth looking at the two primary background sources for Herzog's version.

The novel Dracula by Bram Stoker was a tremendous hit upon its publication in 1897. Even if you have never read the book, you may know the original tale from Francis Ford Coppola's commendable film adaptation in 1992. Centuries-old Count Dracula of Transylvania was an immortal vampire whose prolonged life was fueled by the regular consumption of human blood. The original story sees this diabolical character descend upon London, England, as he seeks to literally leech off of the populace.

In 1922, German director F.W. Murnau sought to do a silent film adaptation of this classic horror tale. However, since Murnau could not acquire the rights to the novel, he simply altered the name of the title character - Dracula becomes "Orlok" - and followed the basic story. However, his alterations were equally striking and genius. Stoker's novel often presents Count Dracula as a stylish, debonair creature which is able to shift his appearance and demeanor in order to seduce his prey. Murnau's Count Orlok is a ghastly creature whose mere appearance is enough to strike fear into both fellow characters and us viewers. His deathly pallor, long and sharp claws and teeth, and bald pate give him the appearance of the ghoulish vampire that he is.

It was this major change to the arch vampire's physical appearance which Herzog most obviously emulated from Murnau. However, Herzog did not stop there. Even more than Murnau, Herzog presents Orlok as a creature both terrifying and pitiable. The utter loneliness of immortality, as well as the isolation of being a uniquely despicable inhuman, are on full display in the 1979 version. The pall of death that follows Orlok wherever he goes can almost be taken as a supernatural extension of his depression and despair. When seen this way, the rash of plagues and deaths that follow Orlok to the big city carry a slightly different weight. It all makes for a film that is more engaging and challenging than a tale that relies on more primal suspense and terror.

When it comes to the finer detail in the movie, I feel that it can be a bit uneven. There are elements of pure genius, such as Jonathan Harker's initial journey to Orlok's castle. His lonely trek across the countryside builds an amazing sense of quiet, slowly mounting doom. Also, the scenes of plague and death in the capital city carry the same visual power as the strongest scenes in Herzog's brilliant Aguirre, The Wrath of God. And of course, Orlok's appearance is just as hideous as in the 1922 original. Herzog film mainstay and all-around wack-a-doo Klaus Kinski was the perfect casting choice.

Would you be as composed as Harker looks in this scene?
I sure wouldn't, with that thing pouring my wine.

However, not all elements hit the mark to me. The reactions of certain characters to Orlok were often oddly subdued. The most notable is Jonathan Harker. While Harker is a tad taken aback by Orlok's appearance, villainous posture, and predatory actions, he often seems relatively blase. The same goes for certain other characters, resulting in an inconsistent emotional tone at times. These are, however, smaller details amidst what is an exceptional horror film.

For those who haven't seen it, you should not expect anything resembling most modern, popular horror movies. There is less use of darkness, shadows, or horror movie cliches that accompany them. On the contrary, a surprising amount of the film features vibrantly colorful scenery, sets, and costumes, often filmed in broad daylight. This all makes for a creepy openness about the horrors in Nosferatu: Phantom of the Night, which makes it all the more unique and fascinating.

Film #70: Aguirre, der zorn gottes (1972)

Title for us English-speaking types: Aguirre, The Wrath of God

Director: Werner Herzog

Initial Release Country: Germany

Times Previously Seen: once (about 8 year ago)

Teaser Summary (No spoilers)

Small crew of conquistadors & slaves search for El Dorado. One of them goes batty, much to the dismay of the rest.

Extended Summary (More complete plot synopsis, including spoilers. Fair warning.)

Peru, 1560. The conquistador Pizarro is in the middle of his search for El Dorado, the fabled “City of Gold”, which is rumored to be hidden deep within the Andes. However, with supplies running short, Pizarro decides to split his group, sending a scout group of forty farther down the river to find El Dorado. The leader of the group is the noble Don Pedro de Ursua, with Don Lope de Aguirre given second command. Joining them are a handful of other conquistadors, several Spanish soldiers, about a dozen indigenous slaves, Ursua’s wife, and Aguirre’s daughter.

The scout group heads downriver, but things soon go awry. One of the rafts is caught in an eddy, and most of the men aboard are mysteriously slaughtered overnight while the rest of the crew sits unaware on the opposite bank. Ursua wants to bring the dead men back to main camp for a Christian burial, but Aguirre circumvents this plan by having a crony sink the raft and dead men before anyone can retrieve them. Thus begins Aguirre’s usurpation of the group.

The buffoonish Don Guzman, unwittingly about to be "elected" as "Emperor of El Dorado".

Over the coming weeks, the expedition unravels. Aguirre heads a mutiny, puts Ursua in chains, and nominates the bloated Spanish noble Don Fernando Guzman as their new leader. Guzman, however, is merely a proxy for Aguirre’s ever-growing mania. Obsessed with obtaining glory and power, Aguirre and his reluctant followers draft a declaration of independence from Spain. The group dubs Don Guzman as “Emperor of El Dorado” and the Spaniards begin dreaming of laying claim to the untold hoards of gold somewhere in the mountains.

As the treasure-seekers continue, their numbers are gradually reduced. A few men are killed by cannibals, silently sniping them from the river banks with arrows. The river rises to a point that their rafts cannot reach the land. Their food dwindles, and their spirits wane. Don Guzman himself is eventually found dead on their raft. With their “Emperor” gone, the few remaining in the crew are at the mercy of Aguirre’s ever-deepening mania. He has Ursua hanged and demands that they press on towards El Dorado. When one of the Spanish soldiers plots to escape and return to Pizarro, Aguirre immediately has his head cut off.

The crew drifts on for several more weeks. Their food supplies become exhausted and they are gradually laid low by disease and delirium. Just at the point when the few survivors are in the final stages of starvation, they are attacked by the natives a final time. Arrows take down nearly all of them, including Aguirre’s daughter. Aguirre, now fully insane, imagines himself and his now-deceased daughter not only finding El Dorado, but building a world-sweeping empire together. He stands alone on the corpse-laden raft, stuck against the shore, as dozens of tiny monkeys swarm around him.

For a bafflingly exhaustive synopsis, check out imdb’s link here.

Now thoroughly lost in his own dementia of grandeur, Aguirre preaches to the only thing left living.

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (Done after this most recent viewing, before any research.)

Aguirre, Wrath of God is a really impressive film, though not in very obvious ways.

Since making this movie, director Werner Herzog has solidified his reputation as an adventurous, film-making wild man, whose prime theme is nature’s indelible power over humanity. Through his dramatic films and, more recently, his brilliant documentaries, he has explored Mother Nature’s inescapable impacts on humans. In the relatively early work, Aguirre, he explores how natural forces can crush even the most powerful, driven, and maniacal impulses of mankind. It’s fascinating and disturbing to watch.

Visually, Aguirre may initially seem a touch amateurish. When compared to similar films such as The Mission or Black Robe, the camerawork seems shaky. However, it’s merely a function of hand-held technique, and I actually enjoyed the documentary type feel that it lends the tale. I got the sense that this is probably about as accurately as someone could portray these events from several centuries ago, giving an “if you were there” feel to it all. By the end, the little jolts and wavering of the camera angles enhanced the mounting chaos surrounding the expedition.

The disintegration of the conquistadors makes for compelling, if depressing, cinema. The more level-headed and righteous Don Ursua is subdued with disturbing ease by the quietly ruthless Aguirre. Almost as warped is the compliance of the accompanying monk, Brother Carvajal, who readily admits early on that “the church has ever been on the side of the strong”. The remaining Spaniards, dreaming of gold and glory, are willing to overlook Aguirre’s obvious psychosis so that they may lay claim to the chimerical treasures said to lie farther down the river. One could look at all of this as allegory, which can be fun, but it’s plenty interesting enough in and of itself.

The rather un-Christan Brother Carvajal, one of the majority who choose to chase Aguirre's mad dreams for power and glory.

Most viewers, myself included, would have to admit that some of the supporting acting is a bit shoddy. Fortunately, it hardly matters, as the primary roles are done well. Of course, the title role of Aguirre himself is key, and Klaus Kinski is amazing. His frog-like, protruding eyes and wide mouth. The wildly off-kilter shoulders and strange gimp. These physical deformations belie the dementia-driven ambition that lies within the obsessed would-be conqueror. Often with little more than an intense stare, Kinski’s Aguirre wills nearly all those around him into doing his bloody bidding. It’s absolutely mesmerizing, and Kinski draws your eyes in virtually every scene.

Amid the intense and brutal exploits of the Spaniards are the eerily quiet moments of the western Amazonian rain forest. As the rafts float along the river, the latent power of the whole environment is palpable. As the film progresses and the crew is gradually laid low, it becomes clear that they never stood a chance. Their cannons and rifles may have given an advantage over some of the primitive cannibal tribes that they encounter, but ultimately the locals and the jungle wipe out the invaders. Perhaps most interesting is that, while the “conquerors” failed tragically in their quest to subdue the land and its people, the land and its people quash the interlopers with nary a bat of the eye. Aguirre and his crew’s grand ideals for power and immortality amount to little more than an insignificant nuisance, if even that, to their destroyers.

As you can tell, this is not exactly a popcorn movie. One probably should not expect to be “entertained” by it. At only a little over 90 minutes, though, it is not a massive time commitment, and there’s plenty of beautiful, natural imagery juxtaposed with the brutality. I would recommend that everyone watch it at least once, for it offers a great perspective on humanity’s place in the natural world. The themes in Aguirre, though expressed in a setting nearly five centuries old, are just as poignant today.

Take 2: Why Film Geeks Love this Movie (Done after some further research.)

How much fact? How much fiction? Anyone who watches a “historically based” movie has to wonder this. The answer in the case of Aguirre, The Wrath of God is a mix. Herzog did use a few historical accounts about a real expedition involving some of the men and women portrayed in the film. However, Herzog streamlined and refashioned them to keep the film tighter. The reality is actually more terrifying. The historical Aguirre did attempt to lead a revolt against Spain. Rather than meet his fate in the middle of a Peruvian river, though, he set up on an island off the coast of Venezuela. His vainglorious attempt to overthrow the Spanish crown ended with his men deserting him for pardons and Aguirre being captured, drawn and quartered, but not before he killed his own daughter.

As if the film rendition of the psychotic Don Lope de Aguirre weren't terrifying enough, the actual man was probably even more frightening.

Herzog’s modified film version is what any maverick film-maker seeks: a monumental piece of art made on a laughable budget. Herzog made this film on a measly $350,000, but he showed how vision and talent can overcome such financial limitations. While not released in the U.S. for several years after its unveiling, Aguirre was an instant critical success around the world. In the forty years since, its stature has only grown. Some of the most heavily and obviously influenced films to follow Herzog’s basic template are: Apocalypse Now, Predator, The Mission, and The New World. I’ve seen the first three, and though they are vastly different from one another, I love them all.

There are no real surprises when it comes to why this movie is so lauded. In this 1999 review, Roger Ebert does a nice job capsulizing the merits that virtually all other professional reviewers see in not only this movie, but many of Werner Herzog’s others.

Probably the most fascinating thing to learn about this movie is the borderline insanity of lead man Klaus Kinski. If you read the Ebert review referenced above, you get some of the tales. An even more complete list of Kinski’s Grade-A whack-job antics is here at wikipedia, including his shooting off an extra’s finger, and basically scaring the living hell out of everyone on the set. Herzog used this to the film’s advantage, allowing Kinski to have his volcanic temper tantrums, run out of energy, and then film the desired scene. The result is magic. By adding the odd limp to his stride, coupled with his own very real, smoldering anger, Kinski as Aguirre is a frightening sight to behold.

By the end, this is all that's left of the men's hopes of reaching the Lost City of Gold.

That’s a wrap. 70 shows down. 35 to go.

Coming Soon: Day for Night (1973):

Another film that I know nothing about, aside from what it says on the sleeve of the DVD. Come on back in about a week to see what I think about this French film.

Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.