Santa Sangre

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.

(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 saw the U.S. premiere of this movie at the DC FilmFest. I was intrigued by the thought of a man who makes movies once every 15 years.

Well, I'll tell you. The people sitting next to me left 10 - 15 minutes into the movie. If you can get through the first 30 minutes, it is worthwhile.

Of course, I am into very surrealistic movies and ones that address the question of what is real and what is not.

After seeing it, the visuals have stayed with me over the years. A powerful movie for the adventurous.

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.