I find myself wishing, similar to what I feel about Ennio Morricone, that I could simply spend time talking with Werner Herzog. He presents himself in this documentary as someone possessing both vision and imagination, but also as deeply concerned with keeping his audience engaged. The breadth of his work is effectively shown here, starting from his early films of the late 1960s—which weren't particularly strong—and moving through successes like "Aguirre" (1972), "Nosferatu" (1979), and "Fitzcarraldo" (1982). We also learn about his complicated relationship with Klaus Kinski, as well as the challenges he overcame from his childhood in post-war Germany to securing funding for films that involved moving old boats over hills in South America. There’s a predictable assortment of complimentary remarks—some more compelling than others—but ultimately what makes this worthwhile is the time spent observing him at his home. His conversation reveals a genuine desire to connect with viewers, which can be quite appealing. It's clear he refuses to accept anything less than excellence and avoids repeating himself, and his capacity to incorporate ideas from various genres for different generations, while also contributing to the growth of filmmaking itself, is truly inspiring. However, there’s not nearly enough of that personal connection, as the film frequently relies on those supporting testimonials. Whether it's Wim Wenders or Nicole Kidman speaking, I don't believe they significantly enhanced what I was hoping to see: just him in a room with some wine and relaxed conversation. He's an engaging personality with boundless imagination—and if you have any interest in understanding how cinema evolved into its current state (flaws and all), then this is definitely worth seeing.

Source on TMDB