The image of Lugosi's Dracula is heavily copyrighted; Nosferatu is, by contrast, an open source vampire; you could tell that from his cameo a few years back on Sponge Bob Square Pants. The silent classic was originally a bootleg version of Bram Stoker's novel. When Werner Herzog went to work on a remake of F. W. Murnau's 1922 vampire film, he could call his creature Count Dracula, thanks to public domain laws. Herzog preserved much of the original's style out of admiration for Murnau and "the most important film ever made in Germany" (maybe so...any other suggestions?).

But Herzog's skeptical, neo-documentary approach--seen this summer in Rescue Dawn--wouldn't permit him to use Murnau's mistier plotting. He took pains to see how Nosferatu works. Why has no one burned the evil castle down in daylight? Simple: it doesn't really exist except in ruins, "except in the minds of men" who are tricked by the darkness of night. How does the vampire beat Harker home? There's a line about how the sea voyage is faster than heading back from Transylvania overland. (Unlike the book, this is set about the time Murnau set his version, 1838; there are no railroads yet in Central Europe.)

December, 1560. Gonzalo Pizarro leads his band of explorers-cum-treasure-hunters-cum-soldiers out of the Peruvian Andes. Weighed down by the out of place trappings of modern warfare and ludicrous luxury items, the tiny band is dwarfed by its surroundings and chillingly out of place. On the fringes of the group stands a man wearing an incongruous bright pink shirt, a battered helmet, and a strange set of armor that seems to consist entirely of studded leather straps. When he moves, he leans backwards and walks stiffly, his body clearly ravaged by a difficult, violent life. Mostly, though, he watches, his enormous green eyes taking in the fear, malleability and desperation around him, while his impossibly broad, feminine lips embrace their permanent sneer. Like he does, we knew immediately that his time will come.

This man is Don Lope de Aguirre, the title character of what is arguably Werner Herzog's greatest film. Played by the inimitable Klaus Kinski, Aguirre dominates the film in every way, effortlessly manipulating the men around him by quietly turning his own ambitions into theirs. Despite Kinski's wild eyes and the character's eventual eruption, there's a surprising subtlety and intelligence to Aguirre, who grows in complexity with each viewing. Though at first he appears to be nothing but a terrifying, ambitious madman (the film's title, Aguirre, the Wrath of God, comes from Aguirre's own description of himself), repeated viewings reveal much more about the character, and shed further light on his companions.

Werner Herzog, everyone's favorite mad genius, is not what you would call a conventional filmmaker. Among other things, his path to direction involved welding, a harrowing childhood cohabitation with Klaus Kinski, and a walk from Munich to Paris, so it's not exactly shocking that he believes "film students could learn more about cinema by walking 5,000 kilometers alone than by sitting in a classroom." What's perhaps a bit more surprising, however, is that someone is actually giving it a shot.

Lee Kazimir, a 24-year-old filmmaker from Chicago, is currently about a week into his planned trek from Madrid to Kiev, a solitary voyage that he (of course) is documenting with a small HD camera. Though the trip has been partially funded by donations to his website, Kazimir plans to travel on the cheap, sleeping mostly in a tent (which he's also carrying) or on the couches of friendly folks he meets while on the road.

While More Shoes, the film Kazimir hopes will come out of the trip, could potentially be great, doing something weird doesn't guarantee him either good footage or the talent to make people care. At best, the film could be like something by Ross McElwee: both self-aware and self-effacing, and smart without being cloying. At worst, however, it'll be a precious vanity project that no one not related to Kazimir can sit through. (And, based on the film's trailer, I have to say I'm sort of worried.)