The Fire Within: A Requiem for Katia and Maurice Krafft

It's easy to see why Werner Herzog was attracted to the story of Katia and Maurice Krafft, seeing as they had a job that involved some kind of unusual natural phenomena, they had a determination that put themselves in immense danger, and they were also keen filmmakers, in a way.

Plenty of Herzog movies (his feature films and documentaries alike) have unusual or unconventional figures pursuing something outdoors, and I think The Fire Within feels almost like a spiritual sequel to Grizzly Man, in some ways. We learn the fate of the central figures straight away, and in both films, those figures left behind much film footage that more or less speaks to who they were. The key difference is that in Grizzly Man, grizzly bears were the dangerous threat within nature, and in this documentary, it's volcanoes.

I feel like there might be less mystery or psychological deep-diving here on Herzog's part, which might be the main reason this didn't grip me as much as Grizzly Man, nor some of the very best Herzog documentaries out there. Maybe there was less to ponder about when it came to Katia and Maurice Krafft, or maybe Herzog was more intent on letting the footage speak for itself (unlike Grizzly Man, The Fire Within does notably lack interviews with other people throughout).

But for the amazing footage on offer, and the interesting presentation/editing, The Fire Within's still good. It wasn't done any favors by coming out the same year as the superior Fire of Love, because that one focused on the same people and was, from memory, much more emotionally resonant, but I still feel like there's enough on offer in The Fire Within to make it worth watching alongside that other 2022 documentary about Katia and Maurice Krafft.

There is something so hypnotic for me when it comes to Werner Herzog and his creations, there is something almost animalistic, yet so sophisticated, poetic in all of his movies and documentaries. Werner's films (or book) make me leave everything I do to listen to him, to watch, learn. No different experience I had with this one tonight: so humane, gentle and poetic yet devastating film where humans and nature go in parallel with each of their steps and history. Beautiful, touching, compassionate but artistic, never pathetic - everything you would expect from this great filmmaker and creator. Highly recommendable.

Werner Herzog made this documentary not as a biography, but as a celebration and showcase of the work of a French couple famed for their pioneering photography of volcanoes, a dangerous craft that ultimately cost them their lives. It's pleasingly unpretentious: we see excerpts from their (still stunning) work alongside a little casual footage of the film-makers themselves, while Herzog gives us a quiet commentary more from the perspective of a fan than that of an expert (though of course he knows something of what he is talking about). If there's a tragic dimension (did they keep taking risks because that was what, at the end of the day, they did) Herzog doesn't dwell on it. It might sound dull and pedestrian, but the stunning images keep you attached, and draw out your admiration for those who dared to film them.

It's all the kind of thing Wonka would get out those golden tickets for, to tour the chaotic fringe with a certain operatic whimsy. The sheer danger of it is matched only by the innocence, it is almost childlike to tour the great dangers. From Cave of Forgotten Dreams, to Lo and Behold, Herzog is building toward a total abandonment of the natural world, into the mental universe, leading to total inner and outer distortions. He is not interested in regular people. I take this from his Chatwin documentary as well, the lost art of the explorer of the mental, those catalogue nuggets of culture and history... now everything is available a click away, everything is outsourced by the crowd.

A filmmaker can find the few remaining ones left. In fact, resources are so scarce of these explorers, another director beat Herzog to the punch with the sister documentary Fire of Love. BUT--another documentary beat both of them to the punch too. The Kroffts themselves. Like another great director, Terrence Malick, Herzog is not in a rush always to give you one thing after another. He is that Opera director putting down movements leading to crescendos at just the right moment, he can paint an entire film, then blam, hit you with that one mark that changes you. Other directions will attempt to cram as many peaks as possible into a work.

Herzog will turn the catastrophes of nature into acts of creation. The image of the kids playing with the volcano ash like sand on the beach, is calling to mind Herzog's own biography of being a child and playing in the wreckage of WW2 torn buildings, still in the total safety of childhood adventure. This is how a few scattered images can achieve the profundity, in the cinema that is a cross between the literary and the photograph. He is famous for considering himself an anti-intellectual artist, but most of Herzog's great moments seem both, as his breakdown in the final passage about the cloud that destroyed them. There is an academic professor beneath Herzog's circus exterior.

The sheer repertoire of images he finds here feel like a Jodoworsky apocalyptic acid western, Kurosawa-like depiction of groups in motion, or 1950s flying saucer films. Herzog has his formula but he just gets so bold and effortless with his experience that he can do it in his sleep. Opera. He withholds the footage we're here for until the very end, all that lava, as the visual Operatic peak. Directors will nine times out of ten just show you the lava and fire the whole way. Those final scenes, there is the master again leaving you in tears. It is why we go to these, the downright surreal parallels, juxtapositions, beauty and unease. It is at the end of the day not just a parallel to his subjects, but here it is a freshly meta take about Herzog's love of cinema, filmmaking, and the image. This is the beauty of Herzog is he always seems like the audience alongside us.

Some scenes were so awe-inspiring I had to watch twice. I particularly savoured the pairing of the Kyrie from Bach's Bminor Mass with erupting volcanoes and larvae flow as it gave an unexpectedly graceful impression. Later on we hear extracts from Verdi's Requiem but not the overly famous bit! We don't learn much of what motivates Katia and Maurice Kraft to be so consumed by volcanoes which is part of the charm of the documentary as it gives the viewer an opportunity to ruminate instead. The narration gives plenty of space. The few words which are spoken are very telling. A masterpiece which I feel immensely privileged to have watched.