A
few years later, during production on Into the Abyss, I had only a few minutes
with Reverend Richard Lopez, the death-house chaplain, whose job is to be with
prisoners in the moments before and during their execution. He immediately
tapped his wristwatch, saying, "I have to be in the death house in forty
minutes to assist with an execution." I had ten seconds to introduce
myself before placing him in front of the camera and filming him. He immediately
started speaking like a phoney, superficial television preacher; about a
merciful and forgiving God, about redemption for everyone and paradise awaiting
us all, about the beauty of Creation. Then he mentioned how much he loves being
alone on the golf course in the morning, and how he switches off his cellphone
so he can listen to the sounds of nature. He wanted to experience the
dew-covered early-morning grass and watch the squirrels and deer running about
and a horse looking at him with big eyes. I sensed our conversation was moving
in the wrong direction, that I had to put an end to these platitudes, so I
stopped him and asked something that nobody else on God's wide earth would
have. From behind the camera, with a cheerful voice, I said, quite
spontaneously, "Tell me about an encounter with a squirrel."
Immediately, within twenty seconds, he began to unravel and completely came
apart. He was so shaken to his core that he started to weep, talking about the
bad choices and mistakes of the many people with whom he had been during the
last moments of their life. Although he was able to stop his golf cart before
it ran over a squirrel, he couldn't halt the inexorable procedures of an
execution. I don't know why I asked him about the squirrel; I only knew I had
to crack him open.
?
Werner
Herzog? "Werner Herzog A Guide For
The Perplexed" (2015)