By Ernest Hemingway the Hills Across the Valley of the Ebro Were Long

Hills Like White Elephants

By Ernest Hemingway

The hills across the valley of the Ebro were long and white. On this siode there was no shade and no trees and the station was between two lines of rails in the sun. Close against the side of the station there was the warm shadow of the building and a curtain, made of strings of bamboo beads, hung across the open door into the bar, to keep out flies. The American and the girl with him sat at a table in the shade, outside the building. It was very hot and the express from Barcelona would come in forty minutes. It stopped at this junction for two minutes and went to Madrid.

'What should we drink?' the girl asked. She had taken off her hat and put it on the table.

'It's pretty hot,' the man said.

'Let's drink beer.'

'Dos cervezas,' the man said into the curtain.

'Big ones?' a woman asked from the doorway.

'Yes. Two big ones.'

The woman brought two glasses of beer and two felt pads. She put the felt pads and the beer glass on the table and looked at the man and the girl. The girl was looking off at the line of hills. They were white in the sun and the country was brown and dry.

'They look like white elephants,' she said. 'I've never seen one,' the man drank his beer.

'No, you wouldn't have.'

'I might have,' the man said. 'Just because you say I wouldn't have doesn't prove anything.'

The girl looked at the bead curtain. 'They've painted something on it,' she said. 'What does it say?'

'Anis del Toro. It's a drink.'

'Could we try it?'

The man called 'Listen' through the curtain. The woman came out from the bar.

'Four reales.' 'We want two Anis del Toro.'

'With water?'

'Do you want it with water?'

'I don't know,' the girl said. 'Is it good with water?'

'It's all right.'

'You want them with water?' asked the woman. 'Yes, with water.'

'It tastes like liquorice,' the girl said and put the glass down.

'That's the way with everything.'

'Yes,' said the girl. 'Everything tastes of liquorice. Especially all the things you've waited so long for, like absinthe.'

'Oh, cut it out.'

'You started it,' the girl said. 'I was being amused. I was having a fine time.'

'Well, let's try and have a fine time.'

'All right. I was trying. I said the mountains looked like white elephants. Wasn't that bright?'

'That was bright.'

'I wanted to try this new drink. That's all we do, isn't it - look at things and try new drinks?'

'I guess so.'

The girl looked across at the hills.

'They're lovely hills,' she said. 'They don't really look like white elephants. I just meant the colouring of their skin through the trees.' 'Should we have another drink?'

'All right.'

The warm wind blew the bead curtain against the table.

'The beer's nice and cool,' the man said.

'It's lovely,' the girl said.

'It's really an awfully simple operation, Jig,' the man said. 'It's not really an operation at all.'

The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on.

'I know you wouldn't mind it, Jig. It's really not anything. It's just to let the air in.'

The girl did not say anything.

'I'll go with you and I'll stay with you all the time. They just let the air in and then it's all perfectly natural.'

'Then what will we do afterwards?'

'We'll be fine afterwards. Just like we were before.'

'What makes you think so?' 'That's the only thing that bothers us. It's the only thing that's made us unhappy.'

The girl looked at the bead curtain, put her hand out and took hold of two of the strings of beads.

'And you think then we'll be all right and be happy.'

'I know we will. Yon don't have to be afraid. I've known lots of people that have done it.'

'So have I,' said the girl. 'And afterwards they were all so happy.'

'Well,' the man said, 'if you don't want to you don't have to. I wouldn't have you do it if you didn't want to. But I know it's perfectly simple.'

'And you really want to?'

'I think it's the best thing to do. But I don't want you to do it if you don't really want to.'

'And if I do it you'll be happy and things will be like they were and you'll love me?'

'I love you now. You know I love you.'

'I know. But if I do it, then it will be nice again if I say things are like white elephants, and you'll like it?'

'I'll love it. I love it now but I just can't think about it. You know how I get when I worry.' 'If I do it you won't ever worry?'

'I won't worry about that because it's perfectly simple.'

'Then I'll do it. Because I don't care about me.'

'What do you mean?'

'I don't care about me.'

'Well, I care about you.'

'Oh, yes. But I don't care about me. And I'll do it and then everything will be fine.'

'I don't want you to do it if you feel that way.'

The girl stood up and walked to the end of the station. Across, on the other side, were fields of grain and trees along the banks of the Ebro. Far away, beyond the river, were mountains. The shadow of a cloud moved across the field of grain and she saw the river through the trees.

'And we could have all this,' she said. 'And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible.'

'What did you say?'

'I said we could have everything.'

'No, we can't.' Disclaimers

"Nothing could destroy me. I went to worlds I had never seen. What kind of giant monsters had lived here, and where were they now?" Truly brilliant in conception and execution. 500 billion plastic bags/year is one of the saddest and stupidest statistics of humankind.

3 days ago

"And if I do, I will tell her just one thing. I wish you had created me so I could die."

Synopsis

This short film by American director Ramin Bahrani (Goodbye Solo) traces the epic, existential journey of a plastic bag (voiced by Werner Herzog) searching for its lost maker, the woman who took it home from the store and eventually discarded it. Along the way, it encounters strange creatures, experiences love in the sky, grieves the loss of its beloved maker, and tries to grasp its purpose in the world.

In the end, the wayward plastic bag wafts its way to the ocean, into the tides, and out into the Pacific Ocean trash vortex — a promised nirvana where it will settle among its own kind and gradually let the memories of its maker slip away.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDBtCb61Sd4

The first time I heard about the 18-minute short film "Plastic Bag" directed by Ramin Bahrani (Goodbye Solo, Chop Shop and Man Push Cart) featuring director Werner Herzog as the voice of a plastic bag was at the tail end of March when it was featured at the South-by-Southwest Film Festival as part of the Futurestates series of 11 fictional mini-features exploring possible future scenarios. Unsurprising, based on the talent involved, it's an impressive feature that touches upon an issue I'm not sure many people realize is becoming a major problem in our world.

"Plastic Bag" reminded me a lot of Alan Weisman's "The World Without Us" and how plastics, of all things, will be around forever and are choking our the Earth's ecosystem. Bahrani's short film explores such a scenario as the immortal life of a plastic bag is followed as it is discarded by its "maker" and left to wander aimlessly without an end in sight, exploring the impact it will have simply because it can't "die". 20th Century Fox actually acquired the rights to Weisman's nonfiction book and tapped I Am Legend duo, Mark Protosevich and Francis Lawrence to write and direct respectively. While I'm sure they were thinking of a much more cataclysmic-Roland Emmerich style feature I can't imagine it being any better than what Bahrani and Herzog have done here. Give it a watch directly below followed by a short making-of video.

You can check out more from the Futurestates series right here. thank him, the man who got shot during an interview but carried on because it was "not a significant bullet". Consider that it's the man who forced the extras on Fitzcarraldo to drag a real steamship over a mountain to aid the film's verisimilitude. Herzog has always manufactured his own myth – his greatest creation may well be himself.

The legend will only spread with his latest acting role as the star of Ramin Bahrani's 18-minute film Plastic Bag, in which Herzog voices a plastic grocery bag struggling with its own immortality in post-apocalyptic America. It's even better than it sounds. "Destruction … dezolation," agonises the undying bag in Herzog's tortured Teutonic tones, as it travels in search of love and the legendary north Pacific trash vortex.

"Herzog's voice," says Bahrani, "is undeniable." Herzog, like James Earl Jones before him, could read the phone book and bring down the house, something he has proved time and time again in the past, when his intonation and the script combine to perfection. One line never fails to make me laugh: his deadpan statement in his 1999 documentary about Kinski, My Best Fiend, delivered in dappled sunlight while surrounded by tweeting birds, that, in nature, he senses a profound harmony: "It is the harmony of overwhelming and collective murder."

Plastic Bag burnishes Herzog's legacy in another way: it's the latest in his peculiar but effective mentorships of younger directors. This vote of confidence for Bahrani is similar to the one he gave Harmony Korine, in whose film Julien Donkey-Boy Herzog happily agreed to play an abusive father given to glorious perversities such as drinking cough syrup from a slipper while calling out "Give me some Everest!" and spraying freezing water on his son with a hose, urging him to "Qvit that moody groovin'" and "Be a menn!" But nothing compares to the lengths he went for a young Errol Morris. He declared that if Morris ever finished his documentary about pet cemeteries, Herzog would eat his shoe. In 1978, Morris released Gates of Heaven. In 1980, Herzog released Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe.

Herzog isn't the only one to see big things in Bahrani. The young director has been handed a pretty hefty promotional lance after being knighted by Roger Ebert as the "new great American director". Ebert brought Bahrani and Herzog together. "That meant a lot to [Herzog]," Bahrani says. "I think it made him think it could be OK to do. I sent him the film, and he liked it. I remember very specifically, he said: 'I'm so glad this is not an agenda movie or I would run like mad and get away from here.' I mean, we can talk about sustainability issues, about plastic, about the Earth, but the movie's about something else, something more … it's about a journey."

Plastic Bag is certainly the most affecting of the 11 films grouped together as Futurestates, a free online project by the Independent Television Service. Bahrani originally planned to cast Alejandro Polanco, the wiry star of his 2007 film Chop Shop. Then his cinematographer suggested Herzog. "The film has an ironic humour that obviously he's a master of," Bahrani says. "I liked his age, too. There's just something about a plastic bag's eternal life that is really emphasised by the weight of the voice of Werner Herzog."

THE BEST MOVIE ABOUT A PLASTIC BAG EVER (Video)

April 2, 2010

By: Tim Reeves

Director, actor and official living legend, Werner Herzog, has lent his soothing tones to a new short film, narrating the thoughts and feelings of a nomadic plastic bag. Directed by Ramin Bahrani, Plastic Bag is a wonderful 18-minute journey following the adventures of the bag, from being cruelly discarded by the woman it loves to having a brief, airborne affair with another bag, then moving on in search of its Maker. Along the way, the bag encounters many 'monsters' and ponders its own indestructibility and existence, eventually ending up in the very real (and very troubling) Pacific Trash Vortex - 500 nautical miles of rotating plastic debris. Shot by the hugely- talented Michael Simmonds (who worked on Bahrani's award winning features Man Push Cart and Chop Shop) with an original score by Sigur Ros's Kjartan Sveinsson, the film is an absolute delight; the ecological message is subtly handled and the bag's longing for its lost love is touching and believable. Add to all of this the fact you get to listen to Herzog's weird, velvety voice for eighteen minutes and you've got the perfect reason to stop what you're doing, sit back and watch this thought-provoking cinematic treat. While you're at it, check out another acting bag in the famous scene from American Beauty, and consider just what it is about our refuse that filmmakers find so poetic and mysterious.

Plastic Bag written by Jason Sondhi on April 12, 2010 mind. Here he was discussing his experiences in filming the first 17 minutes of "Aguirre," for that's as far as we got on the first day of the week.

The film opens with a shot of perhaps 200 Spanish Conquistadores and Indian slaves, making their way down a narrow path with a 2,000 meter drop on either side. They drag cannon and supplies. It is muddy and slippery. Only half a dozen were professional actors. The others were native Indians or hippies and street people recruited in the nearest small city. He sent them up the path in the reverse order that he wanted them to descend. Were they happy to wait up there? The path was too narrow for two to pass. If he held up the line at the bottom, they had no choice.

They descend at first in a very long shot, indistinct in the mist, dwarfed by the Peruvian rain forest. Then, in the same unbroken shot, the camera adjusting, we see them appear in foreground, moving from left to right, Right, the positive direction, because they believe they are approaching El Dorado. Not professional faces. Weathered, tired, lived-in faces. The Indians wear the clothes they were wearing when they arrived at the shoot.

Herzog had only one take. He would never be able to persuade his actors to climb again for a second one. As we watched them descend, he froze the DVD frame to discuss several of the actors. A fat man who ate all the mangos. A close friend, semi-literate, who had bicycled 35,000 km around North America and later became a great photographer. Above all, his star Klaus Kinski, about whom some years later he made a film: "My Best Fiend."

Kinski, in constant rage. Describing himself as a "natural man" who could live in the forest like an animal. Then complaining that his tent leaked. Then complaining that the thatch shelter built over the tent leaked. Then moving at great inconvenience to the production into a shabby hotel where he beat his wife nightly, the crew discreetly removing the blood stains. "A coward," Herzog says.

"Is it true," a voice from the dark asks, "that the Indians asked your permission to murder him?"

"No. That was on 'Fitzcarraldo'."

Bahrani freezes a frame showing a small covered carrier like a tent, borne through the jungle on poles by bearers. It contains one of the women in the party. This detail, and most of the film, has no real basis in fact. Everything comes from Herzog's imagination.

"Is that your hand?" Bahrani asks. We see a bare hand shoot out to steady the carrier, and then disappear.

"Yes, that is my appearance in the film, "Herzog says. "I was afraid they would lose their footing."

"When I show this film to my students at Columbia," Bahrani says, "I always tell them, I'll bet that's Herzog's hand."

The party arrives at the Urubamba River, with its famous rapids. It is January 2, 1971--flood season. They construct rafts so that an advance party, led by Aguirre, can go on ahead. They can only film the river scenes once, because the jungle makes it impossible to walk back along its banks. One of the rafts is deliberately steered into an eddy. This was very dangerous, Herzog says; they had men above them on a cliff with ropes to lower if the raft capsized. Only the toughest of the actors were on this raft, "with a very substantial increase in pay."

A quarter-mile upstream from this shot, Herzog says, he returned only a year ago to the Urubamba to shoot a scene for his latest film, "My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done." Nobody asked him why, and indeed it is hard to pinpoint a reason why footage from a Peruvian rapids was required for a crime drama set in San Diego. Somehow, with Herzog, you don't ask such a question.

There were other problems. Herzog grabbed a tree that was a highway for fire ants, then hit the tree with his machete and dislodged hundreds more that fell upon him. A thieving transportation company bribed customs officials to stamp its documents, and then dumped the cans of negative in a field, where Herzog's brother later discovered and rescued them. Herzog shot the second half of the film not knowing if he had the negative of the first half.

He said he doesn't give a great deal of thought to composition. "I focus entirely on the subject of the shot." One shot shows the fat man straddling a cannon and eating a mango. A voice asks, "Is that a phallic symbol?" Herzog replies" "It honestly never occurred to me until you pointed it out. I wanted to have a shot showing the man who consumed all our mangos."

There is audience discussion of the "painterly composition" of a shot of a camp the Spanish party makes in a clearing.

"I am a filmmaker, not a painter," Herzog says. "I have a gift for arranging men and horses. It comes easy for me." It is 6 p.m., and we have been through only 17 minutes of the film. Herzog can spare only one more day away from his current film. Then Bahrani will take over, and after him, Jim Emerson and the actress Julia Sweeney. Many of those in the audience are old hands at this process. They are amazingly well-informed.

Herzog must return to work. He has been granted three hours to film inside the Cave of Chauvet-Pont-d'Arc in Southern France, where the wall paintings have been dated to 32,000 years ago. There is no documentarian better suited than Herzog to make this film of a sacred place unseen for centuries. He will bring to it awe and poetry.

I said earlier I wondered if I had ever truly seen "Aguirre, the Wrath of God." I've seen it many times, and analyzed it a shot at a time. But I realize that to some degree I saw it through eyes conditioned by commercial movies.

Herzog has spoken of the Voodoo of Location. By that I think he means the ways in which an actual location, where actual events take place, carries a psychic, or emotional, or sensory, charge to the screen. There are no special effects at all in "Aguirre." What you see is what was actually there. Many of the shots were done in one take. Some two. Only a few dialogue passages in three or four. In some cases, the events shown could only take place one time.

The film documents a daring and inspirational enterprise, and a reckless one. It shows Europeans invading a new land, tragically unsuited to survive in it, and ruinous to the existing culture. They searched for gold--which, in some way, explains all colonialism. But Herzog said, "I give no thought to symbols or messages." He also has only contempt for story arc, "the Hollywood hero going through a pleasing series of events." Nor does he care about time, and is willing to let a shot extend beyond its conventional length if the duration creates a feeling within us.

It is all the experience itself, the immediate experience. During some of the scenes on the river rafts, he said, "we were all joined together--actors and crew members--and we knew we could only do this one time." What they did put their lives at risk, although no one died. They did it for many reasons. Then it was done. Now we see the film. The film, and also the record of the creation of a vision.

My blog entry about Ramin Bahrani, the new great American director.

My blog entry The Leisure of the Theory Class, on the Conference on World Affairs.

In the first two videos below, Herzog describes his current project involving the Cave of Chauvet-Pont-d'Arc. You can see what a spellbinding storyteller he is. I also include Bahrani's short film "Plastic Bag," with narration by Herzog. Categories: Specific films

121 Comments

By Jesse M on April 6, 2010 2:29 PM

Incredible film, and it must have been an incredible experience to hear Herzog talk about it. By Aaron Reese on April 7, 2010 7:41 AM

He's painterly, even if he doesn't know it. Artists take their canvas and fill it with an image to create an emotional response. Herzog fills his screen with images that do the same. He broke his style down in simple terms, but its the similar for us painters/sketchers. Based off the films of his I've seen, I suspect composition registers with him on a subconscious level, because he rarely fumbles it up.

Film has the additional benefit of stretching emotional instances to minutes. As you said, he will stretch those moments out past their convenient stopping point for emotional effect. That's an artist's tactic if I've ever heard of one. It's not the exact same kind of art as painting, but there are similarities and Herzog is very good at composing through the lens.

Here's my favorite interview with Herzog. Shortly after Grizzly Man was released to DVD.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4i5WkkXdmc

By Russell on April 7, 2010 9:07 AM

I read this right after finding Bad Lieutenant in my mailbox, and I feel as ready for Herzog as I've ever been after reading this. Admittedly, there's no way to be totally ready for Herzog.

By Serdar on April 7, 2010 9:19 AM

Funny that I should read this after seeing William Friedkin's "Sorcerer", which although a big- budget and meticulously-controlled Hollywood production, had the same tinge of headlong madness about it in its making.

I admire Herzog for making a movie like this happen almost by sheer dint of his force of personality, although I have doubts as to whether I would have wanted to be part of such a production. In a way, I'm torn: I know that without movies like "Aguirre", we're all a little poorer -- but the making of them is such a hellish experience, and not just for the director either. The problem with risk-taking in filmmaking, as opposed to many other art forms, is that you are almost inevitably going to need other people to take those risks with you. There's a funny story from Hajime Sorayama, the artist and painter most known for his "sexy robots" illustrations. He's a visionary in his own right, albeit of a totally different kind. In one of his books, he talks about having seen "Aguirre". He liked the idea behind it, but hated the movie itself. Proof, I guess, that sometimes one visionary can't see what another visionary is up to.

By Chris D. on April 7, 2010 10:10 AM

The first time I heard about Herzog was in your recommendation of this film. I was really young and my film knowledge was incredibly limited, but the synopsis peaked my interest. Suffice it to say that the film radically changed my entire perspective on film.

I don't have a definitive list of favorite films. Nor do I have one for the what I think are the greatest. But in the back of my head I do have two film related lists which rarely do change. These lists are 1) the films which influenced my tastes the most. And 2) the films that changed the way I saw and approached every other film.

Aguire alongside the likes movies like Kane, 2001, and Werckmeister Harmonies is forever going to be on that list. So I am in some small or big way (I'm not sure about that either) forever indebted to you for that.

By Garrett Cruce on April 7, 2010 10:27 AM

I've seen this once with your Great Movies essay in hand. I look forward to seeing it again with this blog entry by my side. Thank you for continuing to broaden the movie knowledge of us readers who can't be in Boulder. Now, I'd buy a DVD set of your frame-by-frame classes.

By Ramin Bahrani on April 7, 2010 10:56 AM

Dear Roger,

Thank you again for bringing me to the Conference on World Affairs and for introducing me to one of my cinematic heroes, Werner Herzog. Without your introduction, the Plastic Bag would not have a Bavarian conscience! Hearing Herzog speak so graciously for the last two days about Aguirre, the Wrath of God- one of my favorite films of all time- will remain etched in my mind forever.

I also thank the intelligent, curious and passionate audiences of Boulder, as well as Jim, Chaz, the tech crew. And in this case, Pablo Kjolseth, obviously a real lover of cinema. I never even knew the German version did not feature Kinski's voice! Without people like this, cinema as we love it will die. It is with your help that these audiences are keeping cinema alive and kicking I thank them all.

Best regards,

Ramin Bahrani

Boulder, CO

Ebert: Ramin, it has been wonderful so far. Now you take over today! WHY wasn't I videotaping when Werner gave his fiery, inspirational final comment? I hope someone was.

By seth on April 7, 2010 11:56 AM

how the heck did bahrani get some of those shots in "plastic bag" wow

By Jane E on April 7, 2010 2:45 PM

On Monday, soon after taking my seat near the front, I discovered that I was surrounded by an excited crowd of young adults. Since students are usually under-represented in the CWA audiences, I thought their attendance was requested by an instructor. When I asked the young man on my left if that was the case, he told me that he was there on his own volition. We continued to talk and he told me that he and his friend had driven from Northern Colorado just for the Interruptus. He then told me of his love of film and his aspiration to be a film critic. He and his friend had attended South by Southwest, seeing 26 films in 8 days (loved Dog Tooth). He said that you had changed film criticism forever making it accessible for everyone. He is now writing for an online blog of young writers who review films.

So there I was,thrilled to be in the company of the accomplished and inspiring as well as the next generation of film lovers and perhaps makers. The last perhaps the least. More Lean (add a pinch of brain fever) than Bergman.

By Garry on April 8, 2010 5:21 AM

The link given for the Leo Grin articles on Grizzly Man & Herzog are incorrect.

Herzog is obviously insane, fascinating, but insane!

These shortened ones are correct: http://tinyurl.com/yhl28go [Part 1] http://tinyurl.com/ycofocv [Part 2] http://tinyurl.com/y8b87d7 [Part 3] http://tinyurl.com/yeav99d [Part 4]

By T.L. Lewis on April 8, 2010 11:30 AM

Thank you for sharing brilliance.

By Paul J. Marasa on April 8, 2010 12:40 PM

Ebert on Kinski: "I've never been able to understand why anybody wanted to be in the same room with him. In his bio, he says vile things about Werner."

Back in the '70s, Norman Spinrad wrote The Iron Dream, which posits an alternate history in which Hitler emigrated to the US after WWI and became a science fiction writer. The novel itself, Lord of the Swastika, is hilarious in an appalling way, like Paul Verhoeven's Starship Troopers. Point being, we should be thankful we live in our universe, not the one in which Kinski rose to power in Germany. All we got was an incredible jerk with a riveting screen presence.

By Will on April 8, 2010 3:55 PM

On the topic of Herzog and Kinski, your review of "My Best Fiend" contains this passage...

"Reviewing "Woyzeck," I wrote: "It is almost impossible to imagine Kinski without Herzog; reflect that this `unforgettable' actor made more than 170 films for other directors--and we can hardly remember a one." Consider, too, that their strange bond began long before Herzog stood behind a camera."

Can't find the Woyzeck review on your site. Any chance this might be dug up?

By MaryAnne on April 8, 2010 5:50 PM

The first time I saw Aguirre I walked around in a daze for days after. When I recovered, I went and saw it again. Thanks for this, Roger. I'm consumed by jealousy, but very grateful to have your wonderful account of what must have been an amazing experience. I can hardly wait to read about day 2.

By Carol Beeby on April 8, 2010 7:39 PM

Dear Mr. Ebert

Marvelous heartening cinema experience with you, Ramin Bahrani, and Werner Herzog.

I first attended interruptus when you did Raging Bull in the planetarium space, in the early eighties. Thanks for everything you've done to invigorate film culture in Boulder.

Kudos too to Pablo Kjolseth for scoring the 35mm print we saw on Sunday.

My best experience of Aguirre yet.

Best Regards

Carol Beeby

By Matt Sands on April 8, 2010 8:15 PM

Oh, to have been there! Herzog and Bahrini in the same room together! Two of the greatest and most unique filmmakers alive! I'm so glad I've been able to see their films. Without you, they might have been lost in obscurity.

By NHBill on April 8, 2010 9:18 PM Dear Roger;

Just finished watching "Aguirre, the Wrath of God" for the very first time. I am still in shock. Such an amazing achievement.

Thank you so much for directing me to this experience. I am fortunate to have seen many great films. It is such a thrill to discover one that was new to me.

Cheers.

By sruth on April 8, 2010 9:25 PM

Dear Roger,

Did you know that ads are covering up the bottom of your reviews? I'm sure that others have already alerted you to this problem, but just in case they haven't...

Ebert: I can't find that happening. Do you have an affected page?

By S M Rana on April 9, 2010 12:08 AM

Kinski as Aguirre is comic more than anything else. The one thing in the movie is the rain-forest and the turbulent river. Kinski's crooked physiognomy (sideways and backward) makes him a caricature more than a character. Herzog seems to revel in nature at its excessive extremes counterpoised against warped human nature. Hardly a model of balance, symmetry or serenity. One may speculate what drew the two close.

By Brandon Nowalk on April 9, 2010 1:11 AM

Did anyone ask what Herzog did to instill such fear in Chuck Norris?

By Literary Dreamer on April 9, 2010 2:06 AM After seeing these videos of Herzog speaking about the cave, I feel like I'd rather watch a movie about him talking about his film projects over most movies that are shown in theaters.

By Vivek on April 9, 2010 3:22 AM

Having watched a lot of his films, I am surprised he hasn't made many in India, a treasure trove of Herzogian characters and stories.

And even I found an ad blocking one of your reviews. I think it was for "Lickerish Quartet". But I don't find it now.

By Andrew on April 9, 2010 7:19 AM

Speaking of Great Movies, I was wondering why it's been so long since you added one to your list. Been busy?

Ebert: Yeah, I missed a week. Brutally busy.

By Robert Kelly on April 9, 2010 9:07 AM

Roger:

That was a well-made essay regarding Werner Herzog. A Herzog movie deserves being seen mutiple times in order to appreciate and fully be aware of the metaphors and storylines present in the film being shown. Regrettably, not many filmgoers in this day and age seem to fully appreciate what a Herzog movie can be like. For myself, I have seen a great deal of his fictional and non-fictional works: only one of those movies, Rescue Dawn, was on the big screen. From what I could tell, only a handful of other filmgoers were there to share the momentous occasion.

A movie that for me emphasizes the need to rewatch when it is available is another one of the Great Movies, the Hal Ashby film Being There. I have seen it quite a few times, yet each time I notice different interpretations and subtleties in the process. In a related matter, is there going to be a new Great Movies column in the near future? Even if it is just a listing of what films will be discussed in the upcoming Great Movies III? I was particulary suprised and impressed with the most recent two entries.

Thank you again for taking the time to read and parse through this comment. We all hope you continue to live in the utmost of fine health.

Best Regards,

Robert Kelly

By Alex on April 9, 2010 9:21 AM

Fans of Mr. Herzog might enjoy this genius parody:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7T8y5EPv6Y8

Ebert: I believe that's actually Herzog!

By Ryan S on April 9, 2010 9:46 AM

Dear Roger,

Did you know that ads are covering up the bottom of your reviews? I'm sure that others have already alerted you to this problem, but just in case they haven't...

Ebert: I can't find that happening. Do you have an affected page? Was to young and naive that I tried my utmost to stray away from it; avoiding films

that would desecrate the name of the lord.

Watching it for the first time since in color (don't know yet why I saw it three times in

one week) with at least a bunch of the most gorgeous shots put on film; painters of the

sixteenth and seventeenth century would have been proud of; not to include the

sequences, not only is the movie beautiful to look at; (their is a shot in the movie that I

just adore and might have a place in the future on the wall of my house; it takes place

right before the young boy brings to "Sister Ruth" a glass of milk) accomplished in the

highest form but the editing too and the directing (I still have a spot or two to fill amongst

my favorite filmmakers; I might include Michael Powell to that list; next to

Akira Kurosawa, Ingmar Bergman, Luis Bunuel, Stanley Kubrick, Orson Welles,

Martin Scorsese, Werner Herzog, Billy Wilder, Federico Fellini and Peter Greenaway)

and the music (score), including poignant lines like:

"Don't you think it's rather common to smell of ourselves?"

And the acting by the entire cast; "everyone" shun brightly; boy,

girl, man, and woman where distinguished and unique in their own way, including

"Sister Ruth" played by the luminous Kathleen Byron; rest her soul; I just found out

from Sight&Sound of her passing last year, in what I would call the four faces of

"Sister Ruth"; the most amazing transformation put on film.

"They say you accumulate a life in time, I say you can accumulate a life before your time"

In return I would like to recommend one for you, one you might not be that familiar with,

I never read anything from you about it, it's called "IL Conformista" aka The Conformist.

It had that same power over me when I saw it the first time, back when I was a freshman

in film school, I had a class in the afternoon; I woke up and the weather was damp with a slight touch of mist; had a couple hours free before class and pop it in.

Its not a perfect movie but a special one; I discovered a lot of myself and in the same time shaped me in some sort of way, its greatness lies in the protagonist; that is where one should start; in a performance of raw power and staggering complexion, including lush photography by the D.P., I might love this movie in the future just like I love Black

Narcissus today, (Vittorio Storaro is a god amongst cinematographers; sorry "God" no blaspheme; just a form of expression, the guy earned it decades ago), he is definitely one out of five of my favorite cinematographer I've seen; just like his predecessor the great Jack Cardiff but from a different school.

It's amazing how much Mr. Scorcese loves film; anyone who's into movies should never miss this man out.

By Kelly L. on May 1, 2010 8:26 PM

I'm glad to hear that you still attend the Conference on World Affairs, and have continued Cinema Interruptus. I went to CU and happily skipped a week of class to come to CI. I will never forget watching "Silence of the Lambs" and "Citizen Kane" with you in Mackey. I've always wanted to thank you for sharing a week of your time, wit and passion for film with those of us in Boulder. It was infectious, in a lasting way.

By Ricardo Cantoral on May 2, 2010 4:01 PM

Aguirre is one of my all time favorite film characters. What he does is slowly consume everyone in the picture until he is the only one left. I never know if I should consider him a protagonist or antagonist really; Or maybe the film is beyond that scope.

By Tom Dark on May 4, 2010 10:16 PM Rosie @Tom Dark:

If I am not mistaken, I believe it might have been you who mentioned The Story of the Weeping Camel in the comment section of one of Roger's journal entries. I want to thank you for that recommendation. It is a wonderful film and one I probably would have missed otherwise.

---Good Lord, I did! You're welcome, Rosie. Look out, Roger, just look out, that's all.

By Jean-Jacques de Mesterton on June 21, 2010 2:29 PM

I once took a beating in New Orleans. The police got involved when my client complained that his representative had been "besieged by hordes of scumbags, without the slightest official regard paid to his safety and well-being." My client was a gentleman of considerable means, an honest broker in a city where thuggery was institutionalised, and a man who still believed in God. I was obliged to resign from this excellent fellow's employ, and to find my way back from the brink with the admixture of force in my name alone. Werner Herzog's Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans is one of the best logically perverse movies made in recent years; the film captured the obscenity of doing well by seriously misbehaving in a place where life is often upside-down.

I read all of your reviews, Roger (sometimes by proxy, since I haven't constant access to the web). My pleasingly pulchritudinous wife M-J and I particularly enjoyed your analysis of the latest Robin Hood film, starring Russell Crowe and directed by Ridley Scott. In this entertaining essay, you lament the loss of innocence that Mr Scott's well-crafted but darkly violent re- invention of an invention represents--thank you, Roger!

I like the Esquire picture of your face, which looks the same to me, because your intelligent, lively eyes are undimmed. You are a wonderful person, Roger, an inspiration to this repentant sinner.

Toujours fidèle,

Jean-Jacques Ebert: Always a pleasure to hear from you, mon frere.

By anna on September 29, 2010 1:56 PM

i have heard to my horror that many animals including illamas were delibertly drowned in thids film for effect, much as I admire Herzog this if true can never be acceptable, does anyone know this for sure