La chasse

Three men go hunting rabbits during a hot day. The heat and talking about events that happened in the past make them angry, until they go totally crazy.

The film was shot in a valley that once witnessed a Civil War battle similar to the one described in the dialogue. The movie has since become a classic, and a landmark in Spanish cinema. While I think it is far fro ma perfect film, it makes a lot of sense that this would be an influential picture. As a society, Spain was probably still overcoming its past in the 1960s. This was one way to confront that.

I am not familiar with any other film from the director, so far as I know... it might make sense to see this in a wider context.

Full review on my blog max4movies: La Caza (international title: The Hunt) is a drama about three aging friends reuniting for hunting rabbits. The heat and talking about past mistakes make the men increasingly aggressive, until a catastrophe happens. The characters' backstories are told in an unconventional way and because of the wonderful cinematography the movie succeeds in presenting believable characters on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Although the hunt sequences overtly depict violence against animals and could have easily been toned down, the dramatic escalation is well-written, and the conflict between the men feels authentic.

This reminds me of that bleak Australian forgotten gem Wake in Fright where dusty sunbaked desolation brings out the worst animal instincts in a group of men, in this case five guys, old friends or acquaintances who haven't seen each other in years, who go out in the Spanish sierra to hunt rabbit. Whereas Wake in Fright at least on some level acquiesces to the idea that we're not perfect beings and revels in anarchy and amorality, Carlos Saura's film feels reactionary. Dialogue and characterization feels calculated to bring out the worst in the characters, they're fully unpleasant from the get go and staying out in the scorching midday heat under a makeshift tent makes them more irritable and frustrated. Their own deadend lives and petty concerns reflect their hunt - from a safe distance, picking off defenceless animals. This is something to pass the time, or worse, an excuse for not passing the time.

I like how Saura films the arid landscape in unflattering shots. This is not the picturesque desert of Lawrence of Arabia. This is an inhospitable patch of dirt where nothing grows and Saura gives us flat shots of dusty hillsides. I also like the frantic hand-held shots, of rabbits running amok through the sparse undergrowth, of the hunters inspecting their rifles and jerking them to aim at the distance, and now someone is nervously wiping sweat off his forehead and musing unpleasant thoughts in voice-over, suspicion or aggression. But everything feels calculated here, and Saura's political commentary does not go amiss. The owner of the hacienda where they go to hunt has discovered the skeletal remains of someone from the "war" (it could be the Spanish civil war, although one of the companions snaps irritably "does it matter which war?") and keeps them hidden in a cave. This is a category, a finger raised in outraged accusation against the worst in us.

Intense psychological drama, obviously intended as a political allegory, relentlessly exposes its protagonists' toxic masculinity, suitably staged in stark black-and-white and a overheated barren landscape, entrenched in a whirlpool of absurd moments and violence (the hunting scenes are quite hard to take).

Although I own practically half of his filmography, I have only watched three Carlos Saura (whom I saw in the flesh at the 2012 European Film Awards which were held over here in Malta!) movies so far – WEEPING FOR A BANDIT (1964; featuring a cameo from Luis Buñuel), ANTONIETA (1982; co-written by Jean-Claude Carrière) and BUÑUEL AND KING SOLOMON'S TABLE (2001); however, being aware that it was going to be Saura's 82nd birthday presently, I decided it was high time I watched a handful more. The film under review – a slow-burning but powerful anti-Fascist allegory that is all the more remarkable for being made under Spanish dictator Franco's regime! – is the one which made his name, having won him (among others) the Best Director prize at that year's Berlin Film Festival.

The plot deals with three Spanish Civil War veterans who return – after many years and with a younger relative – to their old battleground (a skeleton of one Loyalist is proudly exhibited in a nearby shed) ostensibly to hunt rabbits but, during the course of the hot, tedious day spent in alcoholic consumption and hidden agendas, old wounds and prejudices are fatally rekindled. Acting as their trapper and cook are the crippled poacher (of the landowner in the group) and his adolescent niece: their 'disdainful' status is reflected in the disease that is already decimating the rabbit population and the landowner taking on a much younger mistress after his wife left him. From the small, uniformly fine cast, award-winning Jose' Maria Prado (a familiar face from several Art-house and Euro-Cult movies) – playing the envious, trigger-happy, Sci-Fi nut of the group is a particular stand-out.

Being an animal lover, I was wary that the obligatory hunting and trapping sequences were going to be the whole show here: luckily, it was not the case but when these do come on (gleefully participated in by the landowner's black dog and ironically set to light-headed Spanish pop ditties blasting from a portable radio), they are certainly harrowing to watch: a ferret violently taunts a cowering rabbit in his hole out into the open where the hunters lie in wait for it; the same dutiful ferret is soon deliberately dispatched by the self-made businessman of the group; and, most memorably, a rabbit defiantly stops its flight for a few seconds amid a hail of bullets before being blasted off in a cloud of fur and dust.