Fitzcarraldo Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		4.5
Video		2.5
Audio		4.0
Extras		2.5
Overall		3.5

Fitzcarraldo Blu-ray Movie Review

Maybe he should have started with bus and truck musical theater.

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman July 20, 2014

Note: This title is currently available as part of Herzog: The Collection.

Has there ever been a more fascinating figure in film than Werner Herzog? This much debated individual, one who elicits both hyperbolic accolades and equally exaggerated derision, has been a seeming force of nature in film for decades, helping to define the New German Cinema (a somewhat later analog to the French New Wave). Herzog’s filmography is rather breathtakingly diverse, traversing both traditional fiction, quasi-biographies, and a large number of documentaries. Through it all, Herzog himself has become the subject of considerable controversy, at times seeming to be as obsessively motivated as some of his film subjects. The auteur’s off kilter blend of nihilism and often black humor has given him and his films a decidedly unique place in contemporary media, to the point that a supposed note Herzog jotted off to his cleaning lady became an internet sensation (it’s actually a brilliantly written parody by Dale Shaw). Shout! Factory, a label which repeatedly stubbed its corporate toe on its last big deluxe boxed set built around the talents of one person (Bruce Lee: The Legacy Collection, the only time in my reviewing career I have had to start over from scratch due to a complete recall and reissue) may seem to be throwing caution to the wind by upping the ante with this release. Here there are no fewer than 16 films by Herzog, housed in a handsome hardback booklike case that also features a wealth of text and information about each of the films. Fifteen of the films are new to Blu-ray (Shout's horror imprint Scream Factory released Herzog's Nosferatu the Vampyre as a standalone a few months ago), and the offerings here cover both iconic films in Herzog's oeuvre as well as some oddities. The extremely handsome packaging offers a 7.5" x 7.5" x 1.5" hardback book exterior casing which houses heavy cardstock pocket holders that contain the discs. Also included are The Werner Herzog Condition by Stephen J. Smith, an appreciation of the director's work with essays about each of the films. The films get even more text in write-ups by Chris Wahl and Brad Prager. Each of the pocket holder pages details the film (or in some cases, films) on each disc, with audio options and special features listed.

If I had ever noticed this on any of my previous viewings of Fitzcarraldo, by the time I returned to the film in preparation for this review, I had squarely forgotten that Milton Nascimento plays a bit part in it. Milton’s name may not ring a bell with many (even most) of you, but as a huge fan of Brazilian music, I grew up playing Milton’s albums and still consider him one of my all time favorite musicians. (Milton was one of the most successful of the first wave of post-Bossa Nova performers. Many of his songs, like “Bridges” or “Vera Cruz”, have become jazz standards around the world.) And yet, there he is, playing a footman at the huge opera house that Fitzcarraldo (Klaus Kinski) and his lover Molly (Claudia Cardinale) visit as the film opens. It’s perfectly appropriate that a musician as profound as Milton is shows up in the film (and if you’ve never heard any of his music, run right out and buy some), for Fitzcarraldo is in its own way about the power of music. That power enchants Fitzcarraldo, who is a huge opera lover, but it also seduces him like a sonic Circe into attempting a foolhardy proposition that might lead to his downfall.

You may not immediately think of the very Teutonic Klaus Kinski as the very Irish sounding Brian Sweeney Fitzgerald, known in the film as Fitzcarraldo, but nationality hardly matters in this universal tale of obsession and near madness (traditional Herzog themes). Fitzcarraldo wants to build an opera house in an incredibly remote location, but he has nowhere near enough funds to do so. Seeing the rape of the Amazonian countryside around him making millionaires out of rubber barons, Fitzcarraldo decides that he will venture far into the jungle to plant his figurative flag on an unclaimed parcel of land that could bring him untold riches in rubber. There’s just one catch: the parcel is unreachable by water, the normal way of transporting rubber to market.

Fitzcarraldo hatches an inarguably mad plan, but he at least has the sense to keep it to himself until a large crew is already in place and so far into the trek that the options are limited. Fitzcarraldo has come to the rather unimaginable decision to move the mountain to Mohammed, as it were, by getting the large steamboat he and his crew are on out of the water, where it can be hoisted by land over a precipitous mountain pass, and thereby delivered to the rubber fields (does rubber come in fields?). The bulk of the film documents this mad attempt to do something that defies reason and perhaps the laws of physics.

This film, like Aguirre: The Wrath of God, can be seen as a sort of riff on Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, and while the central character does go just a wee bit psychotic, Fitzcarraldo is actually one of the few films where the Kinski character seems noble and (dare I say it?) even a little friendly. It’s interesting that Fitzcarraldo, for all his obsessive foibles, is basically a decent chap trying to bring a little Art to the savages, and that Kinski, deprived of some of the more virulent strains that inform his other collaborations with Herzog, responded to that affability by becoming largely intolerable to work with. Part of this was due to an insanely arduous shoot, where the physical demands of depicting a huge boat being pulled over terrain strained nerves and relationships all around.

While Fitzcarraldo seems to go off on a rather substantial detour with the whole boat angle, it turns out the character’s love of music resounds through the film and reappears in a touching coda. While there are certainly typical Herzogian themes of hopelessness and despair running rampant through Fitzcarraldo, this film’s somewhat gentler ambience may suggest there’s some truth to that old saying that music has charms to soothe a savage breast.

Fitzcarraldo Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

Fitzcarraldo is presented on Blu-ray with an AVC encoded 1080p transfer in 1.85:1. This is one of the more problematic transfers in the new Herzog box set. While the grain field is intact and organic looking, the overall look of the film is often quite soft (even in scenes that were not shot under duress, as much of the film was). Fine detail is actually quite commendable at times (watch the scene where Fitzcarraldo is in the bed surrounded by the kids, and you can clearly see things like the light down on some of the children's forearms). Colors are a bit muted, but pop quite nicely in several scenes, including the lush reds and purples of the opera house and, later, the kind of muddy green that comes to typify the jungle environment. The biggest bugaboo here, though, is the recurrence of compression artifacts which arise with distressing regularity and swarm over the image, or at least parts of the image. This is a watchable transfer, but far from ideal.

Fitzcarraldo Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

Fitzcarraldo comes replete with three audio options, the original German track delivered in DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0, and an English dub in both DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 and DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1. While the English 5.1 mix does significantly open up the soundfield and provide a more boisterous low end, it's also beset with phasing that becomes especially apparent in the musical sequences. The English 2.0 iteration sounds quite compressed and anemic when compared with the German 2.0 track. Therefore, my personal recommendation is to simply stick with the original language track, for it provides very good to excellent fidelity without any of the sonic baggage the two other tracks provide. The score by Popul Vuh, as well as the many source cues (mostly operatic) Herzog utilizes, sound nicely full bodied (with an understanding that some of the source recordings are quite old and damaged sounding).

Fitzcarraldo Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• English Commentary with Werner Herzog and Lucki Stipetic. Norman Hill once again moderates, and both siblings chime in with a wealth of information about the shoot, including some really fascinating initial casting ideas that never came to fruition. Surprisingly, Herzog says he had next to no experience with watching opera before having made this film.


• German Commentary with Werner Herzog. Laurens Straub once again participates here, leading Herzog on a wide ranging if occasionally repetitive journey that covers some of the same territory as the English language commentary. There are some great reminiscences about the various locations here.


• Theatrical Trailer (1080p; 3:09)


• Still Gallery (1080p; 15:42)

Fitzcarraldo Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Probably the most purely satisfying of the Kinski-Herzog collaborations, at least for sheer entertainment value, Fitzcarraldo is a stunning achievement and represents high water marks (pun unavoidable) in the careers of both men. Unfortunately this transfer is one of the least satisfying in the new Herzog boxed set. Decent audio and supplements may help to make the disappointment go down a little easier for those who want to indulge.