“Nature here is vile and base…”
Les Blank’s 1982 documentary Burden of Dreams chronicles the making of Werner Herzog’s Fitzcaralado (also released in 1982). It’s an incredible film, and the only instance (that I’m aware of) where the making-of was better than the actual movie.
Based on a true story, Fitzcaraldo is the story of an opera fan (played by the mentally ill Klaus Kinski) who tries to build an opera house in a backwater city in the Amazon of the 19th Century. To fund this venture he must haul a steamship over a mountain so he can harvest rubber from an unexploited tributary of the Amazon.
In the documentary Herzog says he could have done the entire film on a Hollywood studio backlot, but instead opted to film in the Amazon for the sake of authenticity. Furthermore, he got a real 300 ton steamship and hauled it over a real mountain, again for the sake of authenticity.
Of course this was more authenticity than was needed. The steamship of the historical Fitzcaraldo only weighed 30 tons. He cut it into 3 pieces, hauled it over a small hill, then reassembled it on the other side. But a mere 30 ton ship cut into thirds wasn’t good enough for Herzog’s grandiose vision so he took a film crew, actors, and a 300 ton steamship deep into one of the harshest environments on Earth and put them through what was undoubtably months of living hell.
And to top it all off, they cast a mentally ill man (in the form of Klaus Kinski) in the leading role. Jason Robards was supposed to be the lead, but became ill and was replaced by Herzog’s frequent collaborator Kinski.
I call Kinski a madman, and he is, but he’s not that different from the typical “heavy” actor. Most “Method” actors are very similar to Kinski. They’re mentally ill, unbalanced, unstable people. it’s that illness and unstably that makes them great actors. But for the crew it can be a hellish experience.
Imagine there’s a crazy dangerous homeless man on the subway. He’s shouting obscenities and hurling threats. You don’t want to get too close because he might have a knife. And you don’t want him to see you because you might become a target. So you ignore him. You move to the other side of the platform. Then your train comes and you quietly board and thank your higher power when the madman stays behind on the platform to threaten the next batch of commuters.
Now imagine you work with this guy. And not only is he a co-worker, but he’s the most important person at your place of employment. And you have to do what he says, and cater to his every whim, and take his abuse. Because if you don’t take the abuse you’ll get fired. And if anything happens to him everyone gets fired.
What would that do to you? What kind of workplace would that turn into?
One of the amazing things about Burden of Dreams is that one of Kinski’s tantrums was caught on film. And it’s an amazing document because while I’ve seen many of these exact kinds of tantrums in real life it’s very rare that they’re captured on camera. (The Behind the Scenes team usually stops rolling when the lead actor starts screaming.)
Give it a watch. Again, this is exactly how it goes down.
I must say Walter the Production Manager handled it quite well. I’ve been in his the same position many times and I wasn’t so nice about it. Walter stood his ground, then confidently threw it back in Kinski’s face. This is the correct way to proceed. The incorrect way is to become apologetic, because when faced with a dangerous insane man you must never show fear (it’s very similar to dealing with an angry moose or bear or other wild animal).
The other incorrect thing to do is get angry and go too hard the other way. I’m certainly guilty of this. And if you get up in their face, and start making threats, then well… you’ve gone too far. I know for most red-blooded men that sounds counterintuitive, that you’re not allowed to fight back. But those are the rules. And I don’t make the rules.
Once the crazed actor has found it’s victim the rest of the crew averts their eyes and moves away. Just like the passengers on the subway platform. There’s nothing they can do to help anyway, so why stick their neck out?
I’m ashamed to say that I’ve done that too. I’ve seen my friends and co-workers abused for no good reason, and I was helpless to stop it, so I did nothing.
I’m not proud of this.
Scenes like that traumatize people. You're under so much stress, you're sleep-deprived, you're physically exhausted. And then someone starts screaming at you and you can't just punch them because they're the star and you'll get fired and your career will be over.
And you can't just walk, because same deal: your career will be over. So you have to suck it up.
But worse than that, you have to walk on eggshells because you're terrified it will happen again. Everyone is waiting for a bomb to go off and you know it's armed and it's about to go and you know where the bomb IS but you can't do anything about it.
This wrecks people. Just ruins them.
It's like some sort of PTSD. A lot of people (like me) turn to drugs and alcohol to numb themselves. Other people leave the business never to return. And they can’t return. They're broken.
It's amazing to me that anyone finds this glamorous. Living in some extreme environment, knee-deep in mud, working horrible hours, and you're trapped with a madman who could snap at you at any time for no reason at all.
But people think it's glamorous. I guess it's the fame factor. They want to be close to fame. To paraphrase David Mamet they think fame is like a cold and they can catch it from close contact, or being in the same room, or a handshake. But you can’t. Fame doesn’t work like that. And I’m not sure it’s something you want.
It’s certainly not something I want. I don’t want it because I’ve been close to it. I see what it does. I see how broken and sick these people are. I like my anonymity. And I like my sanity (what’s left of it anyway). I know how hollow the life of a celebrity is. Some people treat them like gods, like modern-day walking gods living among us.
But they’re not gods. I know better.
It took me a long time to deal with it, and make peace with it, and make peace with myself. Not everyone is so lucky tho. This kind of abuse is no joke. And you're probably not tough enough to deal with it.
And maybe, just maybe something about growing up in an abusive neglectful household helped me survive in the biz as long as I have. And I say maybe because it might have made things worse because I was carrying a life of trauma by the time I came into the business.
I saw two Assistant Directors get fired at the same time. They were kind enough to get me on this film. On the last day of prep, the day before the first day of filming, they were working at the production office. Their mistake happened at the end of the day when they were heading home.
They got into the elevator with the lead actor and introduced themselves. He had them fired on the spot for making eye contact. These things happen. It’s part of the deal. It’s part of what you sign up for when you agree to work on a movie.
Burden of dreams indeed…
I haven’t been in a truly abusive situation in many years. Things have changed a bit since Me Too, and that type of bad behavior is less common. But it still happens.
I’m not sure how I’d handle it if I saw that today. I have some age and some wisdom, but I’m also quicker to anger. I don’t hold back like I did when I was in my 20s.
But again, I’m not sure what I’d do. I’d like to say I’d take him to the ground and choke him out. Because I want out of this business and don’t care about my career like I used to. And needless to say it would be a hell of a retirement announcement.
But I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what I’d do.
A similar comparison to this is how certain folks act in the military once they reach a pinnacle of rank. Admirals, Generals and even high-ranking enlisted can develop a God complex.
And be absolute hell to work under.
Meanwhile, others seem to mellow out more the farther they go up the rank ladder. Life is weird.