Directed by David Schmoeller
Rating: 
A wicked parody that alchemizes chaos into a sardonic documentary sideshow. “Roll sound, roll camera, and Klaus!”—but leave “action” unsaid. That single syllable was anathema to Kinski, who treated it as if it were a curse cast upon him. We’ve all heard the stories—some on screen, some only whispered—about Kinski blowing up at every poor director who crossed his path. Herzog might hold the crown for the most infamous feuds, but Schmoeller’s Crawlspace shoot wasn’t far behind. The proof? This short, brutally funny film where Schmoeller lays it all out, showing what it’s like trying to wrangle the beast himself: Klaus Kinski. Legend has it that even Crawlspace’s Italian producer conspired to murder Kinski—no joke, he supposedly had a whole plan worked out. Schmoeller relays countless episodes of fury and torment, yet the true power of this brief, self-reflective film lies in its metamorphosis: a voice that begins in hatred and concludes in reverence. Kinski may have been despicable as a man, but as an actor he stood unmatched, feral and magnificent.
