I wanted to like this film, but it depressed the hell out of me. I notice that several reviews follow the pattern "a fascinating insight into Kinski's mind", but it seems to me (having read his autobiography) that his mind wasn't very interesting. His egomania wasn't matched by competence as a filmmaker, and by the time of this film his acting was reduced to going through the motions - and the motions are often extremely hysterical, but in irritating slow motion! His insistence on using natural lighting doesn't make him a Kubrick - just inept. As a musician, I see no trace of any insight into Paganini here, and the latter was indeed a fascinating human being. I suspect that part of the problem is that Kinski was surrounded by hangers-on, worshippers, arse-lickers (probably literally, in slow motion), sycophants, who either didn't notice that he was producing tripe or were afraid to tell him. The sad, sad thing is that he wasted so much of his life trying to put this farrago together, and that the frustrations of it may have hastened his death. Kinski will be remembered for Woyzeck, for Aguirre, for Fitzcarraldo. His stage performances were extraordinary - the very last one was filmed, and I saw it recently - just an unadorned recitation of the Sermon on the Mount. However, here too his egomania and lack of self-criticism distorted the whole thing: accused of hypocrisy by an audience member, all he can do is throw the microphone stand (not the microphone!) into the audience and storm off. Nearly 30 years later, Paganini has replaced Jesus, but the delusions of grandeur are the same.

I watched Paganini for the first time, then ran to watch bits of Fitzcarraldo again. I just realized why: It was the armchair cineaste's equivalent of taking a shower to rinse the muck off after watching Paganini.I needed to watch Fitzcarraldo to remind myself that, yes, Kinski was a great actor. And he was.I never thought I'd actually find a genuine-article case of this, but in Paganini you have Kinski finally using film--and his fans--as a full-tilt surrogate for his fading fantasy that he's the rooster in the barnyard.It really is shameless. People thought that Woody Allen used film like this way long after he shoulda. Well, guess what? Allen is a piker.If you're curious to see a great film star at his lowest ebb in this particular regard, watch Paganini.Now, people in these comments extol the natural lighting, Kinski's raw magnetism, the unstudied editing, the artful inattention to technique in general, genuinely moving scenes of familial love, etc., etc. Yes, all those things are arguably there. I'm not just being conciliatory for rhetorical effect. But there comes a time when you have to admit the evidence of what you're seeing before your very eyes, and the conclusion is inescapable: Kinski is jerking off at our expense. He's not just exercising an eccentric degree of artistic license. He's lost in unfiltered, unsublimated sexual self-aggrandizement.

Hmmm. First half is pornographic sh*t. The second is better. What I liked was Kinski walking and playing violin, and his son grieving in the end. I think he (Kinski) had some kind of an idea about this film that he failed to bring to a good film. Contrast between music and macabre footage on the screen? Independent unchained life and art of Paganini? The time line was interesting, no real plot line, Fragments. It was made for those who already know the Paganini-story, so the plot isn't really necessary, but only the hectic feeling matters. This was really simple movie, it had some really powerful and good scenes, but the rest is just really bad. The symbolism (lamb) makes me laugh. This was quite embarrassing for a Kinski fan. Beware!Censureship sucks!

This was one of the worse movies I've ever seen. Poor of ideas, it covers just the maniac but the musician (and actor, too), it's just a soft-core porno that pretends to be poetic. Cameramen seem to be drunk or something all over the time. Music is annoying despite being protagonist. I've seen it in Italian, and Kinski choose not to be dubbed, so Paganini (who was from Genoa where the accent is soft and musical) speaks like a south-Tyrolian at Oktoberfest, pathetic. Stay away from this garbage or you'll lose faith in "fitzcarraldo" Kinksi as actor, and it's a pity, cause when he's directed by someone good, not him, he's great.