Every Man for Himself and God against All
A Memoir
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- 9,49 €
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- 9,49 €
Publisher Description
Werner Herzog is the undisputed master of extreme cinema: building an opera house in the middle of the jungle; walking from Munich to Paris in the dead of winter; descending into an active volcano; living in the wilderness among grizzly bears - he has always been intrigued by the extremes of human experience.
From his early movies to his later documentaries, he has made a career out of exploring the boundaries of human endurance: what we are capable of in exceptional circumstances and what these situations reveal about who we really are. But these are not just great cinematic themes. During the making of his films, Herzog pushed himself and others to the limits, often putting himself in life-threatening situations.
As a child in rural Bavaria, a single loaf of bread had to last his family all week. The hunger and deprivation he experienced during his early years perhaps explain his fascination with the limits of physical endurance.All his life, Herzog would embrace risk and danger, constantly looking for challenges and adventures.
Filled to the brim with memorable stories and poignant observations, Every Man for Himself and God against All unveils the influences and ideas that drive his creativity and have shaped his unique view of the world. This book tells, for the first time, the story of his extraordinary and fascinating life.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
The idiosyncrasies of filmmaker Herzog (The Twilight World) are on full display in his eccentric if unreflective memoir. Herzog was born in Munich in 1942 and soon moved with his mother and brother to a farm in the remote town of Sachrang to escape Allied bombings. As a young teen, he returned to Munich and, convinced after a spiritual experience while working on a fishing boat that he wouldn't live past 18 (he writes of the episode that he was "bedded in a cosmos without compare, above, below, all around a speechless silence"), began making films because he assumed "they would be all that was left of me" after his premature demise. He explains that he learned almost "all there is to know" about moviemaking from "the thirty or forty pages on radio, film, and TV in an encyclopedia" and expounds on the making of his most famous films, revealing that Jack Nicholson turned down the lead in Fitzcarraldo because he "only took parts that left him free to watch Los Angeles Lakers' games." The prose is often beautiful and there's no shortage of prime Herzog-isms ("I always wanted to direct a Hamlet and have all the parts played by ex-champion livestock auctioneers"), but the director offers disappointingly little in the way of emotional introspection. Still, Herzog's fans will want to check this out.
