La grande estasi dell'intagliatore Steiner

Ecstasy is an interesting short documentary about champion ski jumper Walter Steiner made by Werner Herzog. In 45 minutes Herzog manages to reveal more about the feelings of the competitor and a sport than most documentaries twice its length do. Herzog's cameras capture both the grace and gruesomeness of the jump as Steiner meets with failure and success. Steiner is quite candid in assessing himself, revealing insecurities and doubts.

Herzog's cameras much of the time seem to be in the right place at the right time without being intrusive. He does however belabor the point with repetitive slow mo wrecks of the earth bound skiers.

Decades later this compact and uniquely informative sports documentary can hold its own with any made since then.

If, like me, you think documentaries are the runt of the cinematic crown, a lazy option, an unimaginative, dreary response to life, a mendaciously arrogant appropriation of 'truth', than this film might make you see other possibilities in the form. Where documentaries are generally concerned with the 'real', what can be seen, evaluated, and understood, Herzog aims for nothing less than a representation of the sublime. And, as so often, he comes very close.

Walter Steiner is a typical Herzog hero. He carves wood sculptures from ideas that sound suspiciously Herzogian. He tells fable-like stories about his youth, an example of the subject appropriating the language of an all-interpreting creator (Herzog). He is both artist and storyteller. His great gift, however, is in sport, a milieu of order and repetition seemingly alien to Herzog's epic dreams of convention-busting.

Steiner is a ski-jumper. He skis down high slopes, and then just flies over huge distances. He is frequently heard complaining that the slopes are put too high, that he is in danger of jumping too far and killing himself,. This, of course, is why Herzog thinks he is less a mere sportsman, than an exalted attitude to death. He is frequently compared to birds - he is someone who can fly, escape the mundane, transcend the everyday to another spirit level altogether. The very orgasmic brevity of the act makes it all the more precious.

In the act of filming, Herzog appropriates this Wagnerian achievement for himself. By ignoring straight narrative, character, and concentrating on the exquisite moment; by bending, reshaping, slowing down time to elongate the sublime; Herzog goes beyond simple observation to enter new realms of experience. Although there are uncomfortable echoes of Leni Riefenstahl's mountain films, the photography in this film is unparalleled in modern cinema, with the dazzling white vast slopes all mere props for the ecstatic revelation of Steiner's art, this melding of two realms, our human, worldly level, and the mystical unknown.

This kind of Teutonic postering is not usually to my taste, but there are many pleasing more earthy moments, especially the sight of Herzog, cinema's great visionary scuttling around like a nerdy sports fan with ABC and all the other world media. Now there's a sight I never thought I'd see.

Great Ecstasy of Woodcarver Steiner, The (1974)

*** (out of 4)

Another interesting documentary from the German director. The film takes a look at Walter Steiner, a Swedish ski jumper who was considered the greatest in history. At least he was considered the greatest when this film was made and since I'm not too familiar with the sport I can't say if he has been pasted or not. The film, like most of Herzog's documentaries, takes a look at something that a lot of people might not find interesting yet Herzog does his magic and in the end the film works quite well. It seems that Herzog is interested in the sport as well as the man himself so a lot of attention goes into both as we get to learn the rules behind the sport and we see what sets Steiner off. Steiner is constantly upset with judges for making the judges do things he thinks are dangerous and this attitude has gotten him in trouble at times. We get to see Steiner go through various ups and downs and his attitude really isn't any different no matter how he does. The film runs 45-minutes and remains entertaining throughout even if you aren't too interested in the material being talked about.

Werner Herzog's The Great Ecstacy of Woodcarver Steiner is a glimpse of a man who is quite amazing at his gift of ski-jumping- he's the world record holder at the time of filming (and a record he actually tops over himself more than once)- and how he's all the more impressive because of his humble attitude towards the activity. He's a woodcarver as his other profession, but has it as his primary obsession to fly, to get whisked away someplace that is of his design but not entirely of his control. And he's affected by the pressure of his own skills, skills he acknowledges but doesn't flaunt; like some comic-book hero, he has to deal with the responsibilities he has at his disposal, of not going down for his audience (who might want to see that happen), or for himself, and at the same time staying true to his gifts. He's often by his own, seen through Herzog's long lens contemplating or trying to stay on his own two feet well enough when not ski-jumping. But he knows that he can't be brought down, as his touching story about his pet raven as a kid, who got pecked away by other birds, and in order to stop it, as an act of compassion, he shot it down. At the end of the day, however, the thrill of flight is all that counts, high scores be damned.

Herzog takes this man's obsession, albeit with modest feelings about his own worth as a mega-star in Switzerland, and transforms it into a beautiful spectacle of simple facts- of the moment by moment updates of Steiner's conditions or what has to be done to the slope or what rules have to be changed to accommodate Steiner alongside the other contenders- with some of the most beautiful shots in any Herzog film. It's not anything alien to see someone in a typical sports documentary to see the athlete in slow-motion speed, but somehow Herzog transforms the familiar into something akin to the theme, of Steiner's own thrill and 'ecstacy' as what the audience feels as well. It's very interesting as well to see Steiner in slow-motion when he skids, when he or another ski-jumper gets injured (and almost everyone seen ski-jumping in the film, and there aren't many shown other than Steiner, get injured in tumbles in rough ways), as it's something one usually wouldn't see in the glorious montages of sports figures. I also really enjoyed seeing Herzog combine voice-over taken after the event, with Steiner slightly rambling on, over the footage of his jumps.

Just seeing a ski-jumper in and of itself is a fascinating sight, as one curls up and has to anticipate what's to come in mere mili-seconds. And Herzog adds his visual poetry of motion with some usual-yet-compelling behind the scenes footage to make it an exceptional work. Steiner isn't a simple hero, but one who's got complexities even Herzog can only see so much into, as he's an otherwise everyman who goes to fantastic lengths for greatness, yet is very aware of the fragility of such power in a sport so reliant on deadly competition and spectator unrest. Very well done.

This starts out looking like a more or less standard TV documentary about a ski-jumper. Over time, however, it somehow gets stranger and stranger, until the ending, that somehow, incomprehensibly, left me totally out of breath.

The film works on so many levels: It's a fascinating portrayal of the celebrated ski-jumper Steiner, but it's also an amazing look at the plain aesthetics of ski-jumping, with extreme slow-motion pictures showing the jumpers' fears and ecstasy at a very profound level. In addition, there is also something in this film that's simply very hard or impossible to define, something about man itself, something about longing and - perhaps the most advanced of human emotions - pity.

How much of this portrayal that actually reflects Steiner's personality, and how much of it that reflects Herzog's, is hard to tell. But that's the only catch. Those looking for Herzog classics should not think that this movie can be missed because it's a 45-minute TV documentary. Apart from pictures of some nasty ski-jumping falls, it's not really disturbing to the extent that put me slightly off when watching for example Aguirre and Even Dwarfs Started Small - so it could from my point of view overall be the best of the many Herzog movies I've seen so far.