Werner Herzog – A Guide for the Perplexed: Conversations with Paul Cronin

by Paul Cronin

The camera I used was actually stolen from the predecessor to the Munich Film School. They had a lot of equipment – including editing tables and a row of cameras sitting on a shelf – but never let young filmmakers use any of it. I wanted them to lend me a camera but had to endure an arrogant refusal. One day I found myself alone in this room next to the unlocked cabinet, saw a couple of cameras smiling down at me, and decided to liberate one of these lazy machines for an indefinite period. It was lying there looking up at me, a basic 35mm silent Arriflex, the camera I ended up using to make my first dozen or so films. I never considered it theft. For me, it was truly a necessity. I wanted to make films and needed a camera, so I had some kind of natural right to this tool. It was expropriation. If you are locked in a room and need air to breathe, take a chisel and hammer and break down the wall. When you have a good story to tell, by dint of destiny or God knows what, you gain the right to do such things. I helped this camera fulfil its destiny.