backtrack; Fitzcarraldo (1982)

As is often the case, director Werner Herzog’s own manic obsessions is echoed in his movie, with favourite hate-object/lead actor Klaus Kinski adding that unmatched extra touch of deranged intensity. Turning all aspects of »civilized« and »primitive« upside down and inside out in a distorting mirror, this becomes a splendid parable of man’s vanity.

Incredible in every sense of the word. In my book of jungle fever and rampant madness – where Herzog has a couple of other entries, by the way.


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