Little Dieter Needs to Fly (1997)

    All Dieter Dengler wanted to do since seeing war planes fly over his city was join them in the skies.  The desire led him to America and to the military where the objective was always another hurdle away.  Finally, he found his way into the cockpit only to be shot down and taken prisoner.  This film is a one-man show of Dengler recounting the horrific torture he endured in Vietnam during the war years.  It is one of the purest stories of survival and triumph of the human will.  (Good lord.)  In all actuality, it is an upfront look endurance of the human spirit against the continued onslaught of true horror.
    Even the usually opinionated and loquacious Herzog struggles to get a word in during Dengler’s accounts.  Save for a question or two, the director must insert his voice overtop images of Dengler and his past.  He examines the archaic military training films, similar to ones shown to Dengler, and questions their teachings and accuracy.  But for the most part, Herzog lets the namesake character tell his own story.
    It is almost disarming, the ease with which Dieter Dengler described his story.  The eagerness to share shines through like a child’s, discovering a fascinating story for the first time.  It is with seemingly practiced nonchalance that he recounts the decapitation of his best friend, and sole surviving companion, at hands of machete wielding enemy.  This being after they shared a single tennis-shoe sole to protect a foot, and days of crawling once the damage to their feet had been too much.
    Upon meeting Dengler we are given a tour of his abode; complete with model airplanes, war honors, and an assortment of collections.  Beneath the floor is stored thousands of pounds of food in 5 gallon plastic buckets, a stock he knows he’ll never need but can sleep soundly knowing he has.  This trait becomes justified, rather quickly, as we see pictures of his body starved for months in the jungle.  The film never discusses any post-traumatic stress related issues but we’d be hard-pressed not to find them.  This makes he modern jungle escapades even more alarming.  Hands bound behind his back he is lead through the uneven jungle terrain that he covered years ago while a prisoner.  Some form of therapy or self-flagellation, the most logical explanation seems that Herzog himself convinced Dengler it would be a good idea.  At the hands of gun-toting Vietnamese he is towed quickly across roots, rocks, and memories of torture.  It is no small wonder that he doesn’t break down mentally into a heap of insanity.
    The film mixes in plenty of aged photographs and films.  Yet for the most part the star is present to tell his story; a story he has undoubtedly told many times before.  His endearing personality is the perfect contrast to the savagery of his tale; the delivery of his past emphasizes its content.  The weight of the story cannot be waived off, as proven by Herzog’s re-visitation in the form of Rescue Dawn.  Unfortunately, the latter film fails indubitably in comparison.