Burden of Dreams

Here's a remarkable phenomenon.

"Fitzcarraldo" is to my measure a special film, meaning that it evokes in me a profound and lasting response. Indeed, I have it on my list of films you really must see (if you take me seriously). Elsewhere, I have celebrated this filmmaker, and how the twists in his being seem to (at least in this period) have created work that matters.

This is a documentary on the making of that film. Its made by a good filmmaker himself. It tells the tale, an interesting story. And it features two segments of Herzog on the scene, speaking coherently and somewhat poetically of the disruption that is the jungle. Its disturbing in its own right.

So what's wrong? Something significant, I think. Watching this takes much of the richness, the lush smell, out of "Fitz."

It explains it. It flattens it. It surrounds it with a story that is clear and thus takes away the space it naturally has for us to surround it with our own story.

Not all great art works this way, but some apparently does: it designates holes that we readily fill with ourselves and stitch together with the story our life might have been, or might not have. The design of "Fitz" is such that it contrasts the real (meaning "natural") with the stylized (meaning "civilized"). It has a simple spine that we can read and ignore while we understand instead the invisible lace of inner lust, lonely desire.

We need the space that surrounds it. We need the madness, the jungle, the lack of containing story. Its what we fill in with the jumble of our own jungles.

Seeing this takes away the experience of "Fitz." Its not just another case of an encounter with a filmmaker being less rewarding than an encounter with his (her) film. Its a matter of story walls where there shouldn't be.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.

I originally wondered why the Criterion Collection would choose to release this documentary. I knew that Herzog was a cinematic titan, and that the filming of Fitzcarraldo was supposedly a journey of it's own, and I even believed that the filming of a 30 ton ship being hoisted over a mountain deserved a documentary, but why would a prestigious DVD house choose to release this among the likes of Rashomon, The 400 Blows, Band of Outsiders, etc. After watching this film, it becomes very evident as to why Burden of Dreams deserves the criterion treatment. Les Blank's film does a better job of portraying the insanity and spirit of Fitzcarraldo than the film itself. The similarities between the character Fitzcarraldo and Herzog himself are endless. Despite Blank's poetic filming of the amazon jungle, despite all of the conflicts the cast and natives encounter, and despite the brilliant documentary footage displayed, the heart of this film is the the essence of cinema. This movie is about film-making and the art of it; it's passion, it's plight, it's entirety. When Herzog closes the film by stating, "It's not only my dreams, it's my belief that they are your's as well, and the only distinction between me and you is that I can articulate. and that is what poetry or literature or film-making is all about. it's as simple as that. I make films because I have not learned anything else. and I know I can do it to a certain degree. and it is my duty, because this might be the inner chronicle of what we are, and we have to articulate ourselves, otherwise we would be cows in the field." You truly begin to understand this man, and this film, and cinema itself. Strongly recommended!

Werner Herzog. If you've seen one of his films, you're probably wondering "Okay, what's with this guy?" If you haven't seen one of his films, you probably have absolutely no interest in this film, so I suggest you go see one of his films then return to this page and see this film after you see his film and think, "What's with this guy?" This movie follows a movie of his called Fitzcarraldo which is a mix of the true-life account of an Irish man who founded a city in the Amazon jungle and the tale of Sysiphus, the Greek myth about the guy in Hades who had to carry the heavy rock to the top of the mountain, only to have it roll back down again at the end of the day.

In typical Herzog fashion, his movie begins almost to reflect it's very subject, as Herzog finds himself in the Amazon dealing with hundreds of natives, a dangerous political climate, unaccommodating weather, and having to take a three-story thousand ton ship over the same journey Fitzcarraldo would have to (all in the name of realism). In the meantime he discussing the importance of movies, his own fascination/love/hatred of the jungle, and we see a film nearly self-implode many times over.

It's actually pretty grueling work to watch (as is pretty much most of Herzog's films), and Les Blank definitely shows himself to have an intimate understanding of the situation so that he isn't judgmental of Herzog but still able to reveal some of his more, let's say, quirky traits. Some more interesting subject matter is Klaus Kinski, who as you watch you can never tell if he's acting in a scene or just being himself.

--PolarisDiB

A documentary which begs the question, who was crazier, Werner Herzog or Fitzcarraldo, the character in his film? To be fair, I loved getting the behind the scenes look at the conditions the film was made under, and I also loved Herzog opining about art and his dreams, as that was pretty inspirational stuff. I also liked Fitzcarraldo, Herzog's finished film, giving it four stars. However, in seeing Les Blank's documentary, it's much harder to reconcile Herzog's maniacal approach, one that put the natives acting in the film in significant danger. Did he really need to haul that boat up a hill with a 40 degree angle instead of the recommended 20 to achieve his artistic vision, when an engineer told him it had a 70% chance of killing many more than five people? Did he really need to be in the absolute middle of the wilderness? No, of course not.

Director Les Blank did a reasonably good job at showing the risk in pulling the boat up the muddy hill, but he wasn't effective in asking the harder questions of Herzog. Herzog rationalizes the deaths from plane crashes to the remote location as something that could just as easily have happened to him, and Blank doesn't ask for a full accounting of the people who died in those incidents or others. Herzog rationalizes bringing in prostitutes into the camp as being "expected," rather than ensure his crew wouldn't go into town and not cause trouble with the local women. We only see one woman interviewed who affirms she does it out of necessity, not enjoyment, and no one else commenting about this arrangement. Herzog gives a rather revolting speech about nature being a fornication and an obscenity, a place where harmony doesn't exist, and we see no one else interviewed (like perhaps a native) who may have a differing view. We get a small glimpse about how some of the natives feel about the risk, with one pointing out that Herzog himself should be pushing the boat with them if they all have to, but Blank doesn't relay this to Herzog for his reaction. Heck, we somehow don't even see any of the significant animosity that took place with Klaus Kinski. The documentary is just a little too in love with Herzog to be great, as unique as it is.

I don't say all that to suggest Herzog was evil, it's just that there is so much adulation for how he fulfilled his artistic vision in an uncompromising way that I don't think it's balanced. I am happy that he secured native land rights for the Machiguengas people. I was impressed with his film, and the moments the documentary provided that showed his attention to detail (giving an actor direction) and perfectionism (waiting days to ensure a shot of the natives in their boats would be in the best light, near sunset). There are nuances and complexities here that are fascinating to think through. In the end, I suppose Les Blank was successful, because he made me ponder Herzog's problematic, colonial attitudes and his approach vs. His artistry.

Such interest in Fitzcarraldo was sparked in my mind that I was compulsively forced to purchase the DVD version of it. It was fascinating, a near-masterpiece, I would say. And I desperately wished to see the documentary about its making, Burden of Dreams. Well, probably a year after I first saw Fitzcarraldo, I came home one night to find Burden of Dreams on the Sundance Channel (praise god for this station!). I had missed about 8 minutes, but, oh well, I sat down to watch the rest.

Unfortunately, it did not reveal much about Fitzcarraldo. I had read about the problems Herzog had during the filming, and this is basically what Burden's focus is. The documentary does not go deep enough, though. I would say about a quarter of it (its running length is just over 90 minutes) is made up of actual scenes from Fitzcarraldo with maybe a short paragraph to describe the setting and maybe some small bit of behind-the-scene narrative.

Another section of the film is made up of interviews with the cast and crew. This should have been the lifeblood of this documentary, but it was not. Herzog's own interviews were interesting, but it is more or less him complaining because things are not going his way (which he has a right to complain about, but it isn't all that interesting to watch). He has this very silly monologue where he complains about how the jungle symbolizes the death of the world, when really the only thing symbolizing death is his dying film. Very disappointing is the documentarians' inability to get interviews with the cast. I was seriously hoping for some of Klaus Kinski's patented insanity and also at least one interview with the great Claudia Cardinale. There was one tiny interview with Kinski where he complained about having cabin fever for being stuck in the cast camps for weeks at a time, completely justifiable, I would say, and there are no interviews with Cardinale (although she may have been interviewed before I started watching). It made me feel a little disappointed that no documentarians had been there to film Aguirre, the Wrath of God, where Kinski absolutely flipped out!

Never fear, though. There is one very good part of this film: it serves as an ethnographic document for the Indians of South America. Herzog rightly claims that their parts in Fitzcarraldo itself were not sufficiently ethnographic, since they were just doing what he was asking of them. But in the documentary, we see the Indians making masato, an alcoholic drink made of yucca and saliva, we see them playing games such as arrow catching, we even see an attack from a different tribe that believes that the Indians who are working on the film have come to attack them. All of this is extremely interesting. 7/10