If this is ever made into a movie, only an exploding head would need to be added to dominate discussion on alt.cult-movies till the end of time. Kinski describes a life lived in full, classic, insane artistic genius fashion. He checks into an insane asylum ("The stench is indescribable. This is hell! True hell!"), insults noted directors ("Herzog's total ignorance, narrowmindedness, arrogance and inconsideration"), harangues about his art ("What they teach in these acting schools is incredible, hair- raising crap.") and sleeps with thousands, if not tens of thousands, of women ("I need love! Love! Nonstop! And I want to give love because I have so much of it. No one understands the sole purpose of my whoring is to spend myself totally!"). Kinski holds nothing back. Although the main feature is Kinski's satyromania ("Salesgirls. Waitresses. Chambermaids. Married women. Mothers." and so on), his inner torment, his struggle between peace and chaos, makes him a much more human figure than you would expect. Although at 300 pages, this is a bit exhausting, it is still gripping.

Penguin, 1996
325 pages
ISBN 0-670-86744-6 (hardcover), ISBN 0-14-025536-2 (paperback)