Santa Sangre

Santa Sangre (1988) is an absolute curio; a surrealist satire on the absurdities of organised religion, a violent pastiche of slasher cinema and an infernal parody of Hitchcock's classic Psycho (1960) all rolled into one. These particular ideas are further tied together by director Alejandro Jodorowsky's continuing preoccupations with circus themes, childhood, murder and performance art; as vivid colours and bold strokes of character and ideology are thrown wildly around the screen amidst surreal visions, childhood reflections and elements of satire. It perhaps lacks the obvious depth and esoteric mysticism of his earlier films - that trio of surrealist masterworks Fando and Lis (1968), El Topo (1970) and The Holy Mountain (1973) - but it remains, nonetheless, a visually impressive and psychologically deep experience that manages to be moving and emotionally demanding, despite the often grotesque and uncomfortable presentation of theme and imagery.

Given the superficial aspects of the narrative, many people have chosen to see the film as a work of horror; something that is entirely plausible given the definite themes of psychological breakdown, madness and inner-torment; not to mention a number of violent murders that propel the story back and forth between enigmatic moments of nightmarish abandon and more colourful and darkly comic moments of parody, farce and cinematic self-reference. However, it is wrong to box the film in with such limited interpretations or categorisations of genre, given the very obvious fact that the film has a number of more interesting layers at work beneath these more blatant surface elements. If anything, I would call the film a psychological fantasy and leave the individual viewer to project their own ideas and interpretations onto it, without having their opinions swayed or pre-led by the hyperbolic platitudes of reviews like this.

However, even with that in mind, Santa Sangre is one of those films that simply demands such discussion, and perhaps requires reviews like this one, not for the benefit of other people, but as an attempt by me to piece together all aspects of the film's bizarre, patch-work like approach to storytelling, and the deeper themes and references that Jodorowksy toys with amidst the continual barrage of visual and aural stimulation. The presentation of the film involves a number of different aspects, some referential, others purely fantasy, moving from an almost Felliniesque portrait of carnival life and idyllic youth - as we are introduced to our central character as a young boy - before shifting further into the young man's life and becoming something of a darkly comic send-up along the lines of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) or Bad Boy Bubby (1993). From here the film becomes darker still, with Jodorowsky establishing the murderous sub-plot, which reaches something of a peak with one of the most insanely violent murder scenes ever witnessed in contemporary cinema.

Nevertheless, anyone expecting a straight murder film - something more akin to the work of producer Claudio Argento's brother Dario - will probably be disappointed. Jodorowsky's intentions for the film go beyond such notions, as he instead ties together a number of disparate concerns to create a grotesque, yet strangely beautiful film that manages to reference the Hollywood melodrama of Sunset Blvd. (1950) and the Gothic horror of the films of James Whale within a story of murder, innocence and Freudian psychology. The impact of the film is certainly within its bizarre symbolism and surreal beauty; the elephant's death-scene for example is one of the most extraordinarily moving things I've ever seen, and ties in nicely with the feelings of the character towards the end of the film, in which the ghosts of the past return amidst a series of startling and frightening recollections, fairy-tale like abstraction and moments of absurd humour.

The film creates an astounding atmosphere from the very start, particularly in the early scenes set within the circus, churches and sweaty streets of Mexico City; with Jodorowsky demonstrating a real understanding and feel for the place, with its sad incongruities of dwarfs and giants and that air of suffocating and claustrophobic dread. The direction, production design, music and photography really capture the dangerous and somewhat confusing tone of the environment, whilst simultaneously retaining a sense of childlike wonderment; particularly in one of the film's most astounding sequences, in which the corpse of an African-elephant is carried through the streets in a giant coffin, dumped into a ravine by a concoction of carnival mourners, only to be savaged and ripped to pieces moments later by a pack of hungry peasants. This scene acts as a grand metaphor for the supporting characters here, and how they send our anti-hero-like protagonist into a spiral of madness, murder and forgiveness.

Fenix is a troubled young man. As a child in the circus, he experienced extreme brutality and grotesquery first-hand; as a result he has spent years in a mental asylum. He whiles away his days thinking he is a bird and his nights in the company of a group of down-syndrome fellow patients. One day, he escapes the place, where he finds his mother and takes up arms against those she deems deserving of punishment. Falling ever further into a spiral of violent madness, only Alma- a friend from his past- can stop Fenix before his murderous spree gets out of hand.

Alejandro Jodorowsky's 'Santa Sangre' is a wild, beautifully photographed black comedy of the surrealist variety that is highly entertaining and intensely macabre. Full of dark metaphors and symbolism, the story is anything but predictable. From the opening scenes, a strange tone is established, one that is both bleak, stylish and- somehow- quite funny. Jodorowsky's tale- written alongside Claudio Argento and Roberto Leoni- goes to some rather brutal territory, from practically the very beginning of the film. Jodorowsky doesn't treat the material completely seriously, however; there is a tongue-in-cheek element to the whole proceedings that is most appreciated.

The dialogue in 'Santa Sangre' is consistently heavily melodramatic, and would not be out of place in your average soap opera. This is almost certainly a stylistic choice, as the heightened drama and violence calls for equally over-the-top lines. This doesn't mean that the stilted, overly-theatrical nature of the dialogue can't be pointed out, though; nor can it not be said that it makes some scenes unintentionally hilarious and lessens their dramatic power. It's akin to the dialogue from a good B-movie from the 50's: a little over-blown, a little stagey, but by no means terrible.

Under Jodorowsky's firm hand, director of photography Daniele Nannuzzi brings us some incredible shots that linger in the mind long after 'Santa Sangre' has ended. In fact, the whole film is a delight for the eyes, full of the efficacious use of colour, visual metaphors and abstractions Jodorowsky is known for. Enrique Estévez's set decoration is incredibly highly stylised, as is Tolita Figueroa's costume design; their work is as strange and as beautiful as the cinematography.

Simon Boswell's score is remarkably eerie and powerful, again proving the notion that he is one of the finest film composers working today. His strange, Spanish influenced music heightens the impact of scenes undeniably. Some moments- especially one when a young Fenix gets a tattoo from his father- take on a mythical quality because of Boswell's work (combined of course with the fantastical visuals). His is the music of the soul, and it is a pleasure hearing it in 'Santa Sangre'.

The late Axel Jodorowsky stars as Fenix, giving a performance of intensity and depth. He appears tortured, carrying with him a pervasive air of sadness that is most affecting. It is also a performance of immense physicality, and the way in which he moves and utilises his hands in particular is most striking and memorable. Blanca Guerra co-stars as Fenix's mother, Concha, and she makes Lady MacBeth look like Snow White. Commanding the audience with her remarkable dignity and grace, Guerra gives a performance of such vigour and barbaric potency you struggle to recall ever seeing a more vehement, villainous presence on screen.

From the large supporting cast, Guy Stockwell and Thelma Tixou both impress, giving terrific performances as two incredibly seedy and selfish carnies. However, the partial post-dubbing of characters is jarring, especially as it is an inconsistent job in terms of quality. Also- and this is more of a question than a critique- why Jodorowsky chose to shoot the film in English when the majority of his cast are Spanish is a little odd when a lot of the actors struggle with the language. Perhaps he wanted a larger audience; though he surely knew that 'Santa Sangre' won't appeal to everyone, and those to whom it does appeal don't mind subtitles in their movies.

At any rate, 'Santa Sangre' is a darkly funny, intriguingly bizarre film that is a bit like the results of a Tod Browning and John Waters combination. Beautiful, sinister and strange, the film is utterly unique and highly memorable. Well-acted, strikingly photographed and featuring a terrific Simon Boswell score, it's a film that impresses on nearly every level. It is not for the easily perturbed; but for those who from dark abstractions yield immense satisfaction.

First let me say that this is my frist movie by the director. I have not seen El Topo, or any of his others. This is a great movie, in my opinion. Not quite perfect, but still great. It, more than any other movie I have seen, exudes the most raw emotion without saying a single word. One of the movies characters is a deaf mute. There is hardly any dialogue, but it is all the better without it. It oozes the emotion that it needs to pass by through camera work, style, and acting.

The story is not your normal story, and in fact is a bit creepy. I will not tell you one single part of it, because I only knew very little going in to see it. But, let me tell you that it is not for the weak of mind or heart. But, the emotion of the movie is completely there, and I highly recommend this to the people who don't mind thinking to be slightly scared. And this is a movie that doesn't feel it has to explain everything away, and so is all the better for it.

9/10

(translation from Italian) In these days, Santa Sangre is back on the screens in a copy restored in 4k in the original version for the 30th anniversary of its release. Many have asked me to review it, but I can't do it because, first of all I wrote it together with Alessandro Jodorowsky and therefore it would seem to me not very polite and professional to praise me or to criticize me because then in a possible critical judgment today I could also be very bad towards myself... Beyond the jokes, what I can do instead it's telling the genesis of the film, without spoiling it and without weaving neither praise nor criticism, but leaving them both to the judgment of the spectators, above all new spectators, because it is a cult movie and has gone through 30 years unscathed. Even the famous GB magazine Empire has included it among the 500 best films of all time... Beyond this exaggeration, it can be interesting just how the film was born and meanwhile special thanks goes to Claudio Argento, the "crazy" producer, wonderfully crazy, because he believed in this story and produced it. The first idea of this film has a distant origin. I attended university working in the library of a psychiatric hospital and I was in contact with the so-called madness, with mental illness, I saw it up close, I read the medical records, I prepared texts for some degree theses... Obviously I have no competence as a psychologist or as a psychiatrist, however, I also followed humanly life of some patients because I was part of therapy program which taught painting and theatre and also another ergotherapy program, that is, work therapy, which offered to the patients the possibility of doing small jobs allowing them to take off their uniform, because then patients were in uniform. Take off their uniform and attend the library meant that in the eyes of a stranger they were treated like normal people. During the program I had some patients that apparently were very quiet, and they were also very cultured and prepared. In fact, this experience made me understand that schizophrenia is often proper a "degeneration of intelligence", in fact, very often schizophrenics are very clever, very sensitive and very attentive. One of these patients, who worked with me because he knew 3 or 4 languages so he could help me sort the books, because the library had 50,000 volumes of all types and ages, one day started looking sideways and saying: "... 'shut up ...' shut up ..." The third time I asked him what happened and he answered me calmly with his calm blue eyes: "No, nothing, I have a voice that tells me to kill you, but don't worry because I love you. " I was a little uncomfortable, but he reassured me: "No, no, don't worry, I love you, I don't listen to it... " Continuing to stare at me with his blue eyes and I was, as far as I could be, calm. The library was very extensive because there were five very large rooms for the 50,000 volumes and it was me and him alone, isolated on a high floor of this immense palace. And I trusted. I trusted his blue eyes, I trusted him his sincere way of telling me "I love you". Probably this episode, like a small seed, has yielded within my psychology, giving me a sense of confidence, giving me a sense of equality and above all a sense of brotherhood even with mental distress. I found Abel in what might have seemed Cain and this fact so ancestral and so mythical has yielded within me and it is probably the origin of Santa Sangre because over time, I conceived a story in which even the worst demon actually can't forget he is an angel. Whoever saw Santa Sangre knows that the character I wrote together with Alejandro Jodorowsky is a serial killer, but every time he kills you feel sorry for him that is you are sorry more for him than for the victim just to completely overturn the concept of the brute, of the violent, of the monster, but returning almost to the Latin root 'monstrum', that is, something to see, a curious thing to discover. Because the human soul is an infinite gallery of typologies, it is a very deep mine in which, as the famous verses of De Andrè say: "... nothing comes from diamonds, but from the manure the flowers are born... " That is, there is in the depths of the soul, even the most horrendous soul, this incredible ability, this little spark... Over time I have developed a story that I told Claudio Argento because it was a time when we worked together. Claudio understood this story and indeed he even added to it things he thought and together we decided to present it to the director who seemed the most suitable to represent it that is Alejandro Jodorowsky. Jodorowsky for about ten years seemed to have disappeared from the international scenes, but Claudio with great diligence and a lot of skill found him and talked to his agent. Alejandro made an appointment in Paris, but he wanted to meet only me. We didn't understand why, but he said: "I want to meet who wrote this story" I went to meet Alejandro in Paris and in the entrance hall of his agent's building, while I was going to take the elevator, an elegant man has sprung from the shadows, curious, particular, completely dressed in purple: he also had purple shoes, a purple shirt, the purple tie, he was completely purple. And he said to me: "Oui, c'est moi ..." So, I saw Alejandro for the first time. He didn't want to go to the agent because it was a place of merchants, instead he told me: "Let's go to a bar, let's look at each other and talk" The first thing he asked me was: "When did you write this story?" "About a year ago ..." "When exactly?" "I do not remember..." Then, I remembered that my daughter had a fever and I was telling her stories, then I went to my study, an idea had occurred to me and I started to throw that one down which was the first nucleus of Santa Sangre. Then I said: "It should have been March 29." "What time did you write it?" "Around half past one or two in the morning ..." "I knew it... ...that night I went to sleep early and the angel of stories has passed over Paris to bring me a story, saw that I slept and continued to Rome, saw that you were awake and gave you the story. But the story was mine and you are a thief! " "But Alejandro, I invented it ..." "No, you are a thief, 'tu es un voleur' ..." And since then he called me 'ce voleur là', 'that thief there' referring to me. This is a very beautiful story because you can understand how every artist in reality has the ability, when he likes something, to take it, to feel it and to think that he really conceived it. Then, Alejandro developed this story with his imagination and his art, also telling me an episode occurred in Mexico City which in some respects had similar characteristics and together we wrote the script by which he then made the film that we all know.

I remember seeing this movie in 1990 in a tiny cinema in London, on a date. As we walked from the theater and got on the tube, neither of us said a word for 20 minutes. Finally, she said, "you have a strange taste in films."

Back then, I was heavily into Luis Bunuel. This was one of the few post-Bunuel movies that embodied the essential creepiness and odd humor of the Surrealists (the other one that comes to mind is "Videodrome"). There's the obvious Freudian stuff, the obvious shock stuff, but leaving all that aside, there are indelible moments of cinematic poetry. The elephant; the son's arms; the final shot. It feels, more than 10 years later, like a repressed dream/nightmare.

I don't consider this a "horror" movie, in the sense that there are no slasher, monster, alien, demon, zombie, cannibal, haunted house, supernatural, dread disease, or giallo elements. I don't remember this movie being particularly scary or gory; just creepy. Maybe it's in a similar genre to "Eyes Without a Face," but only in the sense that both movies deal with mutilation and revenge. (Then again, I remember seeing "Un Chien Andalou" and "In the Realm of the Senses" in the horror section of a video store -- a sign of either ignorance or insight, I could never figure out.) This one truly belongs in the Foreign Films section, but not just for being non-Hollywood.