One of the most evocative and quietly moving films ever produced on the subjects of cultural displacement, exploitation and personal despair, with director Werner Herzog producing a pure work of cinema as sensitive as the character that he depicts. With this particular film, Herzog created perhaps the ultimate statement about the perseverance of the human spirit, whilst simultaneously creating a world that is deliberately abstracted in order to convey the perspective of a character out of step with society and the period that embraced him. Like many of Herzog's films from this era, such as Even Dwarfs Started Small (1970) and Stroszek (1977) in particular, The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser (1975) is essentially about looking at the world from the outside in; with all of the separate elements distorted in order to convey the world-view of this perennial outsider seeing himself for the very first time. In a manner similar to that of David Lynch's subsequent film, The Elephant Man (1980), Herzog uses elements of the real-life story behind the character simply as an excuse to ruminate on the notions of alienation, the nature of conspiracy, personal exploitation and degradation, as well as the often underhanded mechanisms of a seemingly enlightened society, in a way that goes beyond the mere superficial levels of the narrative.
The point of the film is expressed by the original German title, "Jeder für sich und Gott gegen alle", or "every man for himself and God against all". In keeping with this, the nature of religion is brought up twice in the film and dismissed on both occasions by the central character, who claims to be too unfamiliar with the concept of spirituality to be able to make an informed opinion. The church argues that Kaspar should believe simply as an act of blind faith and that a leap of faith will overcome any such notions of knowledge or conception. It is a keen comment on the part of Herzog and one that ties into the idea of Kaspar as an unspoiled being; an almost childlike figure, though in the possession of a keen intelligence and a passionate creative spirit, who ultimately finds himself persecuted for reasons that neither he nor we could ever truly comprehend. In the hands of any other filmmaker, the depiction of Kaspar would have no doubt been that of the traditional outcast; desperately trying to find their own identity in the form of a triumph over adversity. However - again looking back to the subject matter of Even Dwarfs Started Small - Herzog instead gives us a representation of the sane man in the insane world; showing us how the corruption and inherent evil of self-preservation can take a gentle and contemplative spirit and crush it completely; a notion that is beautifully illustrated in a cinematic sense by the scene in which Kaspar sows his name with seeds into the flower bed, only to return one day from an outing to find that it has been trampled by an intruder.
Moments like these are characteristic of Herzog's continually fascinating style of direction from this particular period, as he approached cinema from a perspective similar to that of filmmakers like Peter Watkins, Ken Russell or Pier Paolo Pasolini by investigating the workings of a period setting from a more contemporary perspective. So, we have the authentic costumes, locations and an attempt to recreate the values and mannerisms of this particular society, all the while being abstracted by Herzog's continually probing camera that lingers and explores - often hand-held - through the various cobbled back-streets and stately homes from where the drama plays out. Herzog has often claimed that there is (or was) no real distinction between his documentary work and his more cinematic features, with both particular examples coming from the same place and attempting to convey what Herzog refers to as "the ecstatic truth". You can see this ideology clearly with the film, as the director mixes a non-actor in the shape of Bruno S. alongside professional performers like Walter Ladengast and Brigitte Mira. As a result of this, there is a heightened quality to the portrayal of Kaspar, as well as a genuine sense of dependence on the two characters that come to care for him, as the more experienced cast members take Bruno under their wing and coach him along in a manner reminiscent of the actual characters themselves.
The juxtaposition between the two styles of documentary realism and purposeful cinematic expression can be seen in the visualisation of the film; from the naturalistic cinematography of Jörg Schmidt-Reitwein - with its emphasis on light and shadow and expressive use of landscapes - to the use of classical music (which here gives the film a yearning, almost romantic sense of melodrama to contrast against the more downbeat elements of the film). From its stark and impressionistic opening vignette - with its allusions to a dreamlike evocation somewhat removed from the rest of the film - to the beguiling fever-dream of caravans moving through a barren desert as the film reaches its close, The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser is an absolute masterpiece from a director here at the very top of his creative peak. It is without question unlike any other film you will ever see; one that is rich in character and a believable evocation of period detail, but one that also presents a genuinely unique and unforgettable cinematic vision. In Herzog's film, it is the world that is wrong and confused, with Kaspar becoming a sort of representation for the very greatest qualities of humanity in the face of this vile corruption. A powerful and emotive concept as passionately realised as the film itself.
