Der Henker

Luis García Berlanga's El Verdugo (The Executioner) was recently named the second greatest Spanish film of all time yet it still remains unknown to many non-Spanish people. Perhaps the reason it's so unknown is due to the fact that it was released during the Spanish dictatorship lead by General Franco and this did not permit it to get an international recognition and viewing. Whatever the reason, it's a pity that this little treasure of a film can not get the international recognition it deserves. It's one of the great black comedies I have seen, a fierce yet hilarious critique on the death penalty. Berlanga's inspiration is Franco's regime which practised it, but it has a universal appeal.

Filled with memorable gags, the story starts with Jose Luís (Nino Manfredi), an undertaker who is thinking of moving to Germany to become a good mechanic. In love with Carmen, daughter of Amadeo (José Isbert), an executioner, he is one day discovered by her father during there moment of intimacy and is forced to marry her – the undertaker marries an executioner's daughter. Jose Luís is faced with economic difficulties and the urgent need to create a new home for his new wife. The only way of solving this problem, it seems, would be accepting his father in law's offer (Amadeo): to take the vacant place of executioner Amadeo is leaving due to retirement. Only this way will he get a home. Under pressure from his surrounding, Jose Luís accepts the job convinced that he will never have to put it into practise. Life goes on pleasantly in his new home until one day he receives the feared telegram: he must execute a convicted man.

The story, filmed in a black and white photography that feels so fresh, sounds serious because below the comical surface, lies not only the serious subject matter of death penalty but also the wide spread pessimism caused by Franco's regime. Director Berlange could have chosen to tell the story as sad drama but he doesn't: in a way, he is laughing at the absurd logic and inhumanity he feels the death sentence is. The film's true brilliance lies not in the wonderful all around performances, but in its screenplay that takes on a comic tone that is apparently inoffensive to condemn an action that is just as inhuman as those committed by the executed. And the great irony is that the executioner goes through much worse emotionally than the executed in a great sequence. The movie looks with amusement at the idea of how those who execute can go on there days with a calm conscience. But don't get the wrong idea, El Verdugo does not portray the condemned as victims – it is not interested in there guilt or innocence. The only victims, it suggests, are those that accept to practise inhumanity under the name of justice. There are so many brilliant comical sequences that have nothing to admire from the exhausted and cheap comedies we get from many of the films nowadays.

This is a film that will certainly be less appealing to those in favour of the death penalty. For those who do not which to dwell on such a subject can look at it on its simplest level, which is that of a first rate comical masterpiece.

I suppose the fact that this movie was made during the dictatorship of General Franco, when Spain did not register on any international cultural radars, accounts for the fact that it remains relatively unknown. In my opinion, this is not only the best film ever made by a Spanish director, but one of the best European films ever, and a masterpiece of dark comedy. It is a powerful indictment of the death penalty anywhere, and the scene in which proud and retiring executioner Amadeo sticks prospective son-in-law José Luis' fingers in the lamp fixture, thereby giving him a mild electric shock, remains an all-time classic ("You think that's bad? That's only 125 volts! The Americans are worse, with their electric chairs...")

This movie is stronger, deeper and funnier than any recent comedies by the likes of Pedro Almodóvar and other Berlanga-influenced Spanish directors, due to the bleaker political reality against which it was made. There is more directorial talent involved and the performances are stronger, with the glorious José Isbert stealing the show as always.

Times have improved in Spain, and filmmakers may have more freedom, but nothing as corrosive as this has been made since.

This is a real treat, a keenly observed, merry black comedy of life for a mild-mannered undertaker turned unwilling hangman. Every scene is filled with small observations and asides that add something memorable, and every bit character in every scene tosses in some little bit of "business" that is not necessary for the plot, but enriches it and deepens the believability of the world in which it is set.

Watching this made me think on how, if this film had been made at the same time outside of Europe, the British would have probably made it as a crass Carry On movie, and the Americans would most likely have turned it into a Jerry Lewis vehicle, without any subtlety, thoughtfulness, sensuality, societal commentary or beauty, and yet this is funnier than any of those put together, too.

The wedding scene is hilarious, with so much going on at every moment outside of the dialogue, and the "wave to daddy" line on the docks is priceless.

It's always a comedy, and yet one in which the viewer is never allowed to escape the oppressive moral weight of taking another's life, and the inability to look away from this increases as it goes along, until the ending borders on harrowing.

It's a film that really should be as well known as some of those by Fellini, and I'm eager now to see more by its mischevious writer and director, Luis Garcia Berlanga.

Here we have a tragicomedy about executions released in 1963, when executions and censorship did still exist in Spain. How did they do it...? I only can say... using their imagination. It has a really brilliant story, and a screenplay that combines in a so wise way the comic and dramatic/tragic aspects of the story. Also, the actors know at every moment what to do. As a result we find a really funny film, a really sad film... and a perfect recreation of the reaction of common people to a hard and dangerous epoque. A masterpiece in my opinion.

Fiercely funny and unapologetically black, "The Executioner" is among the most entertaining comedies that I have ever seen. Through morbid themes and distressing issues, this masterpiece of the macabre is one of Spanish cinema's many miracles. The pace is as fast as a speeding bullet as visionary filmmaker Luis Garcia Berlanga slyly mocks the heated controversy of capital punishment. Forcing its lead character to choose between traumatizing himself and living a life of poverty, Berlanga is masterfully able to turn transform tragedy into farce.

While the constant comedy may seem to some as no more than silly distraction from the social commentary, I sensed not only a consistent sense of farcical satire in the masterwork, but also a consistent sense of dread and awareness. The film can be split into two halves: the first being a slightly morbid, but utterly charming romantic comedy, and the second being a much more bleak work of direful, tragicomic satire. Many satires have the unfortunate flaw of paying much more attention to their message than the quality of their script, characters, and plot; "The Executioner" shares all of these traits. Beyond the black and social critiques, there are some highly likable characters and a flat-out amazing premise, satirical or not.

Chaotic, sad, and laugh-out-loud hilarious in equal measure, it is hard to determine whether "The Executioner" is a work that leaves an imprint of joy or sorrow. My reaction is one of both, for the ambiguous ending serves as both a punchline and a bone chilling reminder of the unpredictable tragedies hidden deep within the human experience.