In My Best Fiend, Herzog's documentary about his antagonistically affectionate relationship with Kinski, he recalls the tirades and the energy, the genius and the ego of this madman of German stage and screen. Of course, the movie is even more about Herzog (even in the title he puts himself first), with a focus on the time in his life when the pair knew each other.
For the film, Herzog travels to the places he and Kinski were together, from apartments to movie locations in the Amazon jungle. As he narrates story after story of insanity, he himself plays at being sane, and maybe he is now; but back then, the madness of nature would rise up against the two, threatening to drown them. The same could be said for Kinski, whose temper tantrums and yelling jags (frequently lasting hours at a time) often preceded the very real threat that he would leave the set. Herzog himself corrects Kinski's famous story about how he held a gun on Kinski to keep him from leaving Aguirre, the Wrath of God, saying he didn't really have a gun on him -- he only verbally threatened to shoot Kinski in the head eight times, saving the ninth bullet for himself.
That sums up their time together: The madness of men trying to tame the uncontrollable madness of nature -- and often, against all odds, succeeding. In the end, Herzog and Kinski prove to be two sides of the same mad coin. My Best Fiend is a funny and affectionate portrait of a volatile friendship. It will send you out of the theater looking for examples of their work together, and this week you're in luck: For one week only, the Grand Illusion is showing Fitzcarraldo, the story of a madman (Kinski -- or would that be Herzog?) who somehow inspires people to drag a ship over a mountain in order to bring opera to the jungles of Peru.
