Werner Herzog is belligerently romantic in an age subservient to plausibility. Whereas other directors build their fictions, however extreme or grotesque, with the mortar of cause and effect, he invokes his tales with a magic wand. I think, though, that he does so because he is not only romantic but impatient. He sees a truth, is eager to share it and cannot pause to touch each base along the way. Thus in Stroszek … he needs to get his quite moneyless people from Germany to America. So he sends Eva, a street whore, down to the warehouse district of Berlin where, in five quick tricks, she gets the plane fares from some Turkish "guest workers," as the Germans call them. Never mind that Turks on temporary visas cannot pay that kind of money for their pleasure—Herzog is moving as briskly as possible in the direction he wants to...