As part of the German Renaissance that occurred in cinema in the 70s, Werner Herzog established himself as a filmmaker of extraordinary vision, creating art that tore open the drapes of our obstructed senses and let in a new and shining light. While many of today's filmmakers insist on pumping an audiences' senses with quick cuts and breakneck paced action, Herzog remains true to his almost medieval nature. Things happen lyrically, where characters are often isolated far from the world, where stillness can be found. Only there, Herzog seems to say, is epiphany possible.
Herzog holds his images for a long time; long enough for them to become absorbed by the senses, yet not so long that the mind begins to indulge in free association. Holding these images creates an almost magical stasis, one where our primordial reception to the slightest sensory information is freed from the dark and noisy prison of modern culture. But Herzog's films are far more than collections of liberating images. In fact, their narrative force - the journey down river in Aguirre, Kaspar Hauser's appearance, Jonathon Harker's trip to Transylvania in Nosferatu , the "road" adventure in Stroszek, and his expressionistic documentary work in Where the Green Ants Dream - pulls the viewer along. And by doing so, Herzog takes storytelling forward by going back to its earliest oral traditions.
A true master of his craft, Herzog forges bravely onward, articulating our dreams for us. As he once said: "It is my duty because this (the films) might be the inner chronicle of what we are, and we have to articulate ourselves. Otherwise we would be cows in the field."