The ultimate concern of Even Dwarfs Started Small (1970) is not the plot or the characters - or indeed, the obvious gimmick of the casting and presentation - but in the creation of a certain sense or atmosphere pertaining to the broader representation of madness and insanity. As a result, it can viewed as either a metaphor or a microcosm of society, with a cynical and satirical comment on the then contemporary ideas of a civilization with no rules and limitations - a forced utopia if you will - and the inevitable escalation of violence, corruption and contempt that could only ever thrive in such a characteristically "free" environment. Although these ideas and interpretations do lend a certain sense of context to the images and themes presented herein, the eventual intent of Even Dwarfs Started Small is to present a story on the most simple and visual of levels; creating an escalating sense of emotion that moves wildly from moments of humour to horror until, finally, reaching a fever-pitch level, wherein all the notions blur together into one.
Herzog would probably reject any interpretation other than the literal one of dwarfs rebelling against authority, but then again, Herzog's word isn't intended to be taken as gospel. The natural contradictions of the set-up here, in which the fight of the characters to free themselves from what they see as a corrupt and abusive society, ultimately giving way to something that is even more oppressive, is an intelligent one; something that you could interpret on a political level, or in fact, as a wider-reaching comment about the position of the outsider within society. Likewise, the casting of the dwarfs' works on a number of other, more interesting levels, most obviously in the creation of a world that we must carefully re-adjust to and learn to experience from a completely different perspective. The buildings, cars, furniture, trees and animals remain the same as how we would experience them on a day-to-day basis, but thrown into this veritable mix we have characters that are literally dwarfed - overwhelmed even - by the world around them, creating a further rift that propels these notions of revolution and defiance.
In a world in which even climbing onto a bed or reaching up to pull the door handle becomes a accomplishment as epic in scope as that of Herzog's ultimate personification of single-minded determination and intensity, Fitzcarraldo (1982), the plight of the dwarfs in this film takes on a greater meaning, as the film begins with something of a moral victory that simply cannot be sustained given the heightened sense of reality that the film exists in. We're never entirely sure as to what triggers the revolt, or why there is only one dwarf left in charge of the compound, barricaded in his office with one of the other dwarfs tied to a chair as a hostage, or indeed, what purposes this compound fulfilled in its previously active form. This persistent abstraction of the background details of the story forces us to focus more closely on the relationship between the larger group unit, and the slow spiral of dysfunction and destruction that escalates from one scene to the next. If you attempt to approach the film on any such level of story and character, you might possibly be disappointed or even offended by Herzog's stark presentation. Instead, the real point of the film is in the atmosphere that it creates, and in the feelings that it forms as we watch these enigmatic and often provocative images unfold.
If you're familiar with Herzog and his work, you'll be able to appreciate this style from films such as Aguirre, Wrath of God (1972) or Heart of Glass (1976), with the continual juxtaposition between moments of abstracted realism and bizarre, fever-dream hallucinations that seem to exist within the story free of context. This continual contrast adds to the dreamlike, or indeed, nightmarish aspect of the film, which recalls elements of Todd Browning's difficult masterpiece Freaks (1932); and not simply on the more obvious, superficial level, but in the way in which the film gets darker and darker as it progresses towards a violent and memorable final. Though a brief description of some of the scenes and situations presented in the film might fail to shock an audience, viewers should be advised that the incredibly heightened sense of tension and the abstract surrealism created by the use of cinematography, editing, location and music lends the film a suffocating air in which the destruction of personal property, plant life and animals becomes hypnotic, frightening and entirely overwhelming.
For me, it's one of Herzog's best and most fascinating works; filled with bold visual imagination, a potent message (and element of satirical intent), room for interpretation, and some incredibly disturbing and enigmatic imagery. More to the point however, the film remains an unrivalled visual experience; one that goes beyond the conventions of story, character and ideology and instead creates a cinema that is simply felt; clearly an absurd and disturbing work of pure cinematic expression. In many respects, I would consider it Herzog's most intense and perhaps even most disturbing film, and one of the most powerful films ever made; with the location, setting, theme, character and visual presentation creating something that is entirely affecting and entirely unforgettable.
