Aguirre, Wrath Of God

Perhaps the most famous picture of the great Werner Herzog, the first of his legendary collaborations with Klaus Kinski, this is a film that we have felt more affection, joy, and sheer love towards then practically any this year (we are huge Herzog fans). Why is this? Because it is mad, it is brilliant, it is beautiful, it is placid, and it is massively entertaining.
Herzog is able to, with deliberation, examine images. And what ones he has here; the incredible fogs and long expanses away of the rainforest, the dirty helmets and scoured remains of a wonderfully recreated middle-ages (well, 1560, rendered amazingly modern, and at once otherly alien). He knows how long to dwell, and how long to move. His camera movement changes from handheld excitment (never self-consicous) to slow, far away, cutting neutrality.
The story is wonderfully told. At once it is incredibly simple, always the best kind of epic. We know precisely where it is going, but it is damn fun going there, and the crushing inevitability and ridiculousness of the quest give it an extra level of Sisyphean absurdity. It is often rather funny; not only in Aguirre's madness, but also the ridicoulousness of the pan-pipes, and the pig-headedness of our characters. The missionary scene, one of the harshest satires of colonialism we can remember, had us in stitches.
The priest, The slave, all the characters play their roles in a fine manner. With sharp bones and a madness on their eyes that is really just a weaker version of your real master, Aguirre. Kinski is silently brutal, in hindsight he actually does incredibly little of real violence, but his huge eyes, nasty cheeks, and scary curl of mouth make him at once terrifying in his contempt for normal standards.
This is a theatrical, not a hyper-naturalistic piece. Kinski is deliberately theatrical, the landscapes are violenetly and hyper-coloured, the excercise is almost like a crazy dream that will remain even when you wake up.
Hugely entertaining, beautifully shot, fantastic performances (Kinski's Richard III hunch), and an elegiac, epic story that applies to all of human nature.
Hell, it's pretty much perfect.