Usually, if a director threatened to shoot his leading man in the head, you'd assume at the very least that would be the end of that working relationship. Unless, of course, the director is Werner Herzog and the actor Klaus Kinski. Aguirre, the Wrath of God was their first collaboration, and instead of ending in bloodshed, it launched one of cinema's most volatile yet fruitful creative partnerships. The film itself is a masterpiece of obsession: a descent into madness that shaped generations of filmmakers, not least Francis Ford Coppola with Apocalypse Now.
Set in the 16th century, the story follows the expedition of conquistadors into the Amazon rainforest in search of El Dorado, the mythical city of gold. When the journey stalls due to the inhospitable jungle terrain, a smaller band are sent deeper into the jungle under Pedro de Ursua (Ruy Guerra). But his second, the unhinged Lope de Aguirre (Kinski), quickly usurps command, leading his ever-dwindling group inexorably towards their doom.
Herzog's fascination with man's struggle against nature is evident throughout. He lingers on shots of violent rivers, the men trying to navigate it on rafts or hacking through the forest, while, absurdly clad in armour, leading horses or carrying wives in sedan chairs. They are hopelessly ill-equipped to tame the land they intend to conquer. The forest itself fights back silently: the natives remain largely unseen, their presence revealed only by sudden bursts of violence and spatters of blood.
The film's epic scale is apparent from the sweeping, gloriously ambitious opening shot. It shows a baggage train stretching into the background across the mountain terrain, until the camera pans down to reveal the front of the train trudging past in close-up. Meanwhile the frame itself is divided between mountain and fog, civilisation and the unknown.
Herzog deploys this idiosyncratic knack for shot composition throughout. At times it's stylistic, intermittently framing his characters in static tableau vivants, and at others documentary-like, placing the audience firmly in the action, even retaining splashes of water on the lens as the rafts go over the rapids. Men are reduced to insects crawling across mountains; Aguirre, swallowed by their ranks, flails as if drowning. Ursua's wife drifts dreamlike into the forest to an uncertain fate. And in the final scene, we see exactly what Aguirre has gained – a lone, imperious figure on a raft, with only a swarm of monkeys to command. It's haunting, surreal, and strangely beautiful.
And yet, it's all anchored by Kinski's incendiary central performance. A delusional megalomaniac, Aguirre was the ideal role for Kinski, and he delivers a towering performance. As great as the actor is though, credit must go to Herzog too, who deliberately provoked the actor into throwing tantrums off-camera to ensure his actual takes would be more restrained. His exhaustion fuels a quiet but intense menace that feels far more dangerous than shouting ever could. The moment he looks directly into the camera and declares, “I am the wrath of God,” is chilling.
A ruthless manipulator in the mould of Richard III; Herzog originally envisioned Aguirre as a hunchback, and while that idea was discarded, his tightly bound costume restricts his movements, giving him him a stiff, predatory prowl. He is a terrifying creation, driven entirely by greed and ego, and the way he manipulates his followers by sheer force of personality is something to behold. It's as if they are over-awed by Aguirre's madness, and you get the distinct impression that many of the supporting cast aren't really acting. Guerra makes a convincing moral counterpoint as the principled Ursua, while Daniel Ades gives Perucho an unnerving presence – his tuneless la-la-las are a sinister touch that makes him one of the film's most memorable characters.
A work of vaulting ambition, at just over 90 minutes Aguirre is also leaner and more accessible than its daunting reputation suggests. It may be Herzog's most coherent narrative, certainly his most influential, and arguably his greatest film. A captivating, often feverish vision of conquest, madness, and nature's indifference, it remains one of cinema's most hypnotic achievements.
4K Ultra HD Special Features
- 4K (2160p) UHD Blu-ray presentation in Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible)
- Mark Kermode introduces Aguirre, The Wrath of God (2024, 3 mins)
- Feature-length audio commentary with Werner Herzog for both Aguirre, the Wrath of God and Fata Morgana
- A Raft of Troubles: Herzog, Kinski and the Art of Darkness (2025, 19 mins): newly recorded video essay by Nic Wassell on the relationship between Werner Herzog and Klaus Kinski
- The Unprecedented Defence of the Fortress Deutschkreuz (1967, 16 mins): symbolic drama about four young men hiding from an imagined enemy
- Last Words (1968, 13 mins): short film about the last man to leave a former leper colony
- Precautions Against Fanatics (1969, 11 mins): short satire about horse-racing enthusiasts
- Fata Morgana (1971, 77 mins): hallucinatory film exploring mirages and the Mayan creation myth
- Original theatrical trailer
- Stills gallery
- Original mono audio (German and English)
- Alternative 5.1 Surround audio (German)
Aguirre, The Wrath Of God is now out on 4K UHD and Blu-ray from the BFI
