Viridiana

Viridiana may be one of the least surreal films in Luis Bunuel's career, more than likely, but it has perhaps the most acidic satire in any of his 1960s work. It's a film that, actually, might be a good portal into the director's work for those who haven't seen much or any of his work (though one could always vouch for Discreet Charm or Un Chien Andalou first). It's actually got a very straightforward narrative without too many punches pulled in delving into the characters' psyches. We're given the compassionate, caring, but also very mixed-up Viridiana, played by Silvia Pinal, beautiful and kind, but in her ultra-Catholic character is someone who cannot be tempted in the least. She is, one would suppose, the most conventional character, and we're just supposed to take for granted, in Bunuelian style, that she's just like this way. No bother- this is a masterpiece of ensemble anyway, and an ensemble practically all non-professionals (it almost seems like Bunuel picked some of them from the same village that provided Las Hurdes). It's bitter and depressing in its view of humanity, but it's expertly crafted all the way, and it builds towards a tremendous climax.

For a while it seems like something very peculiar is going on with Viridiana and her uncle (Fernando Rey, in only a supporting role but one of his very best performances), when he invites her to stay at his home but won't let here leave due to his infatuation with her. Indeed, we see- in one of the funniest bits early on- that he even tries her shoes on, and attempts to have his way with her when drugged. But Bunuel's film, for the most part, isn't necessarily as hilarious in its satire as in his other classics. Actually, it's really more of a dramatic effort here, which is all the more fascinating to me: Bunuel can pull off making what seems, at least for 2/3 of the film, to be a sincere look at how a woman makes an attempt to overcome a tragedy in her family (Rey's character's end) by taking in vagrants and homeless folk and cripples, while her 'cousin' takes over the bourgeois duties. On this level, Bunuel, and his screenwriters, have a fantastic control over the mood of scenes, and then spiking with little visual details things that just strike his fancy (i.e. in the attic with the cat and the rat, or the teats on the cow, or the crown of thorns).

...BUT, then there's a day when Viridiana has to go into town, and those she took in take over the joint, so to speak, and it makes the nighttime party scene in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest look tame by comparison. This is where finally, as if in a rush of clarity, Bunuel unleashes the fury of his satire, as one sees what the kindness and support that Viridiana tried to do- if not out of the genuine goodness of her heart then as just a way to clear her religiously guilty mind-set over Rey's Uncle- completely, reprehensibly backfires. At this point one sees Bunuel at his naughtiest, most crude, and still as is a given with him, playful (one of the greatest moments in the filmmaker's career comes when he deliberately sets up the Last Supper for the bums). Then, finally, one sees a very cruel and almost dehumanizing catharsis, but maybe it's not really at the same time. There is a powerful message working through much of the picture, where religion, class, attitudes are all tested in the sense of restrictions: how far is too far with temptation and free will? For Bunuel, it can be anything, which is why the outcome of Viridiana taking in the homeless and destitute becomes her psychological downfall (see her hair let down towards the end, and her blank, drained face at the card table).

And yet, all through the symbolism that seems ambiguous (girl jumping rope) and very direct (burning of crown of thorns), and with the scathing mix of sordid drama and black-as-a-bull comedy, Bunuel never loses sight of his vision, and Viridiana is a constantly watchable effort with his gracious, intuitive camera, and his sharp ear for the truth in every character's dialog. Frustrating at times, you bet, and its sensibilities on human nature, and the decisions made, make one re-think what it is to be either rich, poor, or in the middle. But it's also one of the director's best films, and a very deserved Golden Palm winner.

Beautiful and devout Viridiana (Silvia Pinal in an impressive performance) is about to take her final vows as a nun, and enter a convent. At the urging of her Mother Superior she takes a short break to visit her estranged Uncle and benefactor Don Jaime (Bunuel regular, the always wonderful Fernando Rey). Reluctantly she does so thinking it will be the last time she sees him before devoting her life to God. Don Jaime, a complex man, has other plans for Viridiana - he wants to take her as his wife. What follows is unpredictable, fascinating and an almost perfect piece of film making. Highly controversial in its day, and accused of blasphemy, it may not be as shocking to our cynical, secular eyes, but it still packs a punch, and is highly recommended. One of Luis Bunuel's greatest achievements.

This is a great movie. It is an investigation of the human nature and attempts to tell an interesting story about the suppression of our inner instincts. Bunuel, once again, compares the morality that comes from inside us, i.e., the morality of the subconscious, against the morality which imposed by society and the various religious organizations.

Bunuel seems sacrilegious, but I think that his movie attacks false piety as opposed to the deeper mysteries of the Catholic faith. Viridiana in the movie is not considerate of her uncle's passion for her and that kills the old man. Her punishment comes later from the unworthy beggars. The moral of the story is that we'd better investigate our flaws and strengths before attempting any encounter with other members of the society. Nobody is perfect and there are different ways to help people out there effectively. Honest work is sometimes more effective than useless acts of charity. If we do not know our selves and we cannot understand others we may deeply hurt people we care for.

All these ideas came to my mind while watching "Viridiana". What a great movie it is. One of the great moments of the movie is a side by side viewing of the honest workers renovating the mansion and the unworthy beggars praying in the fields.

Viridiana (1961) is a tale about a young nun who's so into her faith that she tries to do what she feels is morally and ethically right. Sadly, the world has changed and no matter how hard she tries to help those around her, it all winds up biting her in the end. Viridiana is a rare masterpiece that reflects the attitudes of the society that people (such as that "lovable" despot Franco) had created and the archaic teachings of the Catholic Church. The poor nun is one of the last of the true believers who adhere's to the dogma of the Church even when most of their leaders have abandoned it. Even the poor masses (whom she relies on) fail her. Can she remain true to her faith when everyone else around her ignores it?

A classic Brunuel film. I enjoy his style of film-making. Especially the way he uses social commentary and makes it entertaining instead of being preachy and hitting the viewers over the head with his "ideals". A hard film to find but it's highly enjoyable. The best scene in the film his the beggars re-enactment of the "Last Supper" painting. Film-making at it's best!

Highest recommendation.

A

Forty years on and `Viridiana' is one of the very few, almost unique, examples of classical Spanish cinema to have survived the turmoil of the latter half of the last century. It remains as a little light in the midst of the darkness of the Franco Régime, which promptly banned it, or as an insouciance to the Vatican, which promptly excomulgated everyone concerned with it.

Buñuel's genius is apparent in every frame: the eye for detail, nonetheless permitting that impromptu evanesqueness which lends exquisiteness to these memorable scenes, above which shines the `Last Supper'. And it is precisely this scene which gives one the impression that the real stars in the making of this film were the motley beggars taken in from the streets. Silvia Pinal and Francisco `Paco' Rabal are not outstanding in this piece; even the incomparable Fernando Rey is overshadowed by the band of social outcasts. The sheer poeticness so brilliantly captured by the camera roaming among the vagabonds is cinematographic exquisiteness carried to its extreme: every grimace, every wrinkled nose, the debauchery, is what makes the principal actors be no such thing, but secondary actors overwhelmed by the nuances and gestures of these `untouchables". Brilliant filming, indeed – whether intentional or not or whether this be only my personal interpretation after seeing this film three times in the last twenty five years, is of course open to debate.

Suffice just to mention Lola Gaos: (Tristana (1970) – also by Buñuel - is one of her other films worthy of mention, surprisingly accepted by the censor's blue pen). In the 70s her voice began to break up, such that in the end she lived out her last years in poverty, forgotten by the times and cinema makers, until hauled out of hiding for a last TV appearance, sardonic way of giving her a few pennies to eke out to the end of her existence, but by then (1989) her voice was so fragmented it was near impossible to understand her. Her throat-cancer was never treated adequately.

Luis Buñuel (`Thank God I am an atheist') has gone; Fernando Rey has gone; Paco Rabal died yesterday in an aeroplane flying over the English Channel, returning from the Montreal Film Festival where he received his last award…….

They leave `Viridiana' as testament to those historical and difficult times, an isolated exposé amid what was, for Spain, a cinematographical desert.