Werner Herzog does in 1971 what Godfrey Reggio, Philip Glass, and Ron Fricke did more popularly in 1983 with Koyaanisquatsi. A sequence of images — mirages — from the Saharan Desert, of wrecked planes, lizards, the desert itself, and a freakish vaudevillian performance at the end. Peppered with passages from the Popol Vuh, it rivited hippies, college students, and disaffected expatriates at the time it was released publicly without Herzog’s knowledge. Now it lies as a curiosity of modern documentary film-making where the viewer brings his own depth to the party.