Cave of Forgotten Dreams By Werner Hezog

The Cave of Forgotten Dreams sketches the modern landscape of the cave through some usual suspects of Herzog’s filmography, such as a retired perfume tycoon sniffing his way through the bushes looking for more forgotten caves. Without seemingly much effort, the director jumps gently from the small details in the movement of the drawings, via the small talks with the scientists and their idiosyncrasies to the bigger picture of the passing of millennia, without it feeling clumsy. But big the effort must have been if you imagine a crew of just three (one camera, one sound, one light - Herzog himself), in a space of not more than 4m2 in the most positive conditions, making a 3D shooting. But nothing could have brought out the use of depth in the cave drawings better. Herzog recreates the original viewing effect through his lighting, making the paintings come to life in a manner as with torches, the torches whose scrapings on the wall you can see as fresh as yesterday.

The film is not didactic, a history lesson, but more about sensations. Back then those early humans had a different relation with nature, a different concept of self that luckily Herzog never tries to explain. The effect of the cave under his light and camera (dark, deep, impenetrable) illustrates this point. The images of paintings are slowly coming in and out of view, making it enough to observe in silence.

The subject here is not only history, but also the medium of film itself, as an historical record. The camera becomes the archaeological tool showing us what we would not be able to see in such high proximity and detail. Towards the ending, the camera turns on the crew (us), appearing as little dots on the shore. Masterfully realised through a toy helicopter perspective, we end up gazing at a point in history, feeling small and big at the same time.

by Maartje Alders