Santa Sangre

This is a startling work, a truly artistic masterpiece, which did achieve some mainstream recognition for Jodorowoski but not what the film deserved. Filled with unsettling images, grotesque displays of violence and sexuality, and subtle but comic references, Santa Sangre is Jodorowoski's most coherent work. It is also a thoroughly artistic work, with a greater emphasis on representation than drama or morality. If you have not seen this movie, rent it. You will not soon forget it whatever your final evaluation might be. Too bad its not available on DVD (hint).

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.

A very fascinating but disturbing film. Luckily I had the chance to see it in the late-night screening in a small cinema in my city.

The blood in the title reappears in different contexts as theme in the film, from colored water claimed as saint´s blood, over that drained in a tattooing resembling an initiation rite, to that of murdered women. I would not recommend it for people sensitive to such sights. For others it shows that `blood is a very special liquid' in all its metaphysical contexts.

There is some very powerful imagery in this film: a bleeding, dying elephant and its bizarre burial, cut-off arms, white-painted corpses, etc., images that haunt you not because of their goriness but their unique intensity.

The story is based on that of a Mexican mass murderer so I was a bit biased before I went to the cinema, but was surprised when the story unrolled it was not about some ugly, monstrous guy like I expected, but that the protagonist was portrayed as a troubled young man for whom one could have sympathies despite his killings. I won´t summarize the plot once again, just read the summary on this site for that. What made the film especially interesting is that Jodorowsky packs his film full of different motifs: Christian saint´s cult, Freud´s Oedipus complex, the ancient story of Phoenix. As even names are filled with significance in this film it is no coincidence the main character is called Fenix and has an eagle tattooed on his breast. Resembling the ancient myth, Phoenix has to be destroyed first, in this case through freeing his own self from his omnipresent mother figure that holds a grasp on his soul, before he can be reborn again.

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.

There's so much you can say about this work. Vivid characters, colours, and situations that practically leap off the screen into the theatre next to you. A wonderfully quirky, repeatedly startling story. Graceful low-key cinematography that turns slums and sideshows into an eerily beautiful netherworld, countless images that look like you could freeze them and hang them as inspirational totems for cults we have to hope don't exist. Jodorowsky paints with a heavy, vibrant brush, but it's the perfect tone for this primal-yet-humanizing tale.

But I should post a warning. As far as I'm concerned, my first viewing of this film was one of the more worthwhile two hours or so I've ever spent in a theatre, and I think based on my experience that this sadly neglected wonder deserves every bit of word-of-mouth promotion it can get. But I'm betting it's not to everyone's taste.

So this is my advice: if you found Storaro's green and red/jungle foliage and human remains canvasses in Apocalypse Now unsettlingly beautiful the first time you saw them, and wondered momentarily whether still prints were available for hanging before realizing what you were actually suggesting to yourself, here's a film for you. If you found Delicatessan's celebration of the paradoxical beauty hiding in human ugliness and stupidity a bit too sanitized for your taste, Santa Sangre's rather murkier depths await. You will love this work.

If, on the other hand, you have no taste for painters who work best in human blood as opposed to oils, and/or don't appreciate a bloody carnality mixed in with your religious metaphor, you will quite probably hate it with a passion that exceeds my affection. And I don't really blame you or judge you for walking out early. It takes all kinds.

Either way, fondly or with revulsion, you will remember it vividly, ten years later. I can say this confidently, as that's how long it was from the first time I saw this film to the day I wrote this review. Don't say I didn't warn you.