Straining, sweating and struggling in the face of physical torment via his commanding officers, Werner Herzog‘s Woyzeck opens to the pained expression of Klaus Kinski as the film’s title character, garrison soldier Franz Woyzeck. The scene plays after a melodic, harpsichord interlude introducing us to the small German town in which the film is set, transitioning to harsh strings as Herzog overcranks Woyzeck’s introduction, bounding into view and rigidly going through his marching orders, pushed to his physical limit.
Next we’re witness to the psychological torment Woyzeck endures at the hands of his captain (Wolfgang Reichmann) and then again from a man we come to know only as Doctor (Willy Semmelrogge). A lowly private and strapped for cash with a child out of wedlock, Woyzeck submits to experiments at the hands of the doctor, including a diet in which he can only eat peas. His descent into madness increases with each and every scene. Reality soon conflicts with hallucination and it would seem once he learns of his wife’s infidelity there’s no saving him and no one that seems to want to.
After Fitzcarraldo, Herzog’s early work is all new to me. Woyzeck has that same sense of “being there” when it comes to Herzog’s documentary approach to storytelling, but there’s also a heightened sense of drama here while, at times, extremely observational.
I also couldn’t help but sense a measure of the autobiographical, a feeling this film might be indicative of the working relationship between Herzog and Kinski and perhaps evidence the oft-told stories of Kinski’s outbursts on Herzog’s sets were occasionally warranted.
Shot over a brisk 18 days immediately after wrapping work on Nosferatu: Phantom Der Nacht, which was shot simultaneously in both German and English, Kinski’s tortured face seems a perfect metaphor for not only what his character was feeling, but most likely himself as well.
Adapted from the 1913 play by Georg Büchner, the narrative can be viewed to be just as timely today as it was when it was first performed as it deals with social divisions and the exploitation of those viewed to be lower on the social ladder. The fact it’s a military officer and a doctor holding this viewpoint could very easily be translated into today’s terms with very few shifts in social standing. In today’s terms, Woyzeck is the equivalent of the 99%.
Compliments and appreciation for the craftsmanship aside, the film itself didn’t win me over as much as I was impressed, once again, by Kinski’s performance. It’s not at all a surprise it’s based on a play and it proves a showcase for Kinski’s raw, animal talents, but as a feature film it seems slight and somewhat repetitive and obvious.
That said, I could watch Kinski peel and eat a banana and find something fascinating about his performance, wondering just what he’s thinking and whether or not he’ll eventually smash the banana between his fingers, toss it to the ground and curse it for bringing a plague upon the world. Late in the film he wanders into the depths of a creek, searching for a bloody knife he attempted to discard. Halluciantions take him over and he eventually drowns, believing himself to be covered in blood. In the hands of a lesser performer this wouldn’t work at all, but Herzog knows he doesn’t even need to move the camera. He can simply hold steady as Kinski slowly disappears into the blackness, his voice fading to a muffle and then… gone.
While the film didn’t entirely win me over, the opening and closing sequences are masterful short films unto themselves. As I now delve deeper into Herzog’s past features and, soon, out of the realm of features he made with Klaus Kinski it will be interesting to see what I find. Their pairing seems to have been a cinematic match made in Heaven to the point a film I didn’t entirely take to holds riches I won’t soon forget.
Woyzeck is available on Fandor.com right now and will be released on Blu-ray as part of a new, limited edition set of Werner Herzog films, releasing on July 29, 2014. For purchasing information click here.
