La ballata del boia

It is often true that the best comedies are those which hide (or should I say show) terrible pathos and anguish beneath their comic skin. Billy Wilder, for example, has often been praised for his mastery of this art, in films such as The Apartment and The Fortune Cookie.

So has Berlanga, who is undisputedly the gratest comedy writer/director in Spanish film history, and one of the best of Europe. And his masterpiece, El Verdugo, is such an awesome tour de force of his talents that it never ceases to amaze, even after repeated viewings.

El Verdugo is a comedy, yet it is probably the most moving and powerful anti-death penalty story ever written. It achieves this by showing the act of killing a person as what it is, such an unnatural and repulsive thing that for most of us it would be impossible to perform. And, as an executioner, that is exactly the role that Jose Luis (Nino Manfredi) sees himself thrown into. The situation is seen by Berlanga not only as dramatic, but also absurd, and all of Jose's antics and ploys to avoid ever having to do his job are also so absurd that they are comical, and very much so. But the viewer also simpathizes with him because we instantly understand the horror of his situation, the dreadful Damocles' sword that hangs over his head. Both the comedy and the drama go hand in hand right until the devastating ending of the film, one of the most memorable and tragic scenes ever comitted to celluloid.

Giving it a 10 out of 10 still seems short to me. PLEASE see this film if you can, you will never forget it.

I suppose the fact that this movie was made during the dictatorship of General Franco, when Spain did not register on any international cultural radars, accounts for the fact that it remains relatively unknown. In my opinion, this is not only the best film ever made by a Spanish director, but one of the best European films ever, and a masterpiece of dark comedy. It is a powerful indictment of the death penalty anywhere, and the scene in which proud and retiring executioner Amadeo sticks prospective son-in-law José Luis' fingers in the lamp fixture, thereby giving him a mild electric shock, remains an all-time classic ("You think that's bad? That's only 125 volts! The Americans are worse, with their electric chairs...")

This movie is stronger, deeper and funnier than any recent comedies by the likes of Pedro Almodóvar and other Berlanga-influenced Spanish directors, due to the bleaker political reality against which it was made. There is more directorial talent involved and the performances are stronger, with the glorious José Isbert stealing the show as always.

Times have improved in Spain, and filmmakers may have more freedom, but nothing as corrosive as this has been made since.

Luis García Berlanga's El Verdugo (The Executioner) was recently named the second greatest Spanish film of all time yet it still remains unknown to many non-Spanish people. Perhaps the reason it's so unknown is due to the fact that it was released during the Spanish dictatorship lead by General Franco and this did not permit it to get an international recognition and viewing. Whatever the reason, it's a pity that this little treasure of a film can not get the international recognition it deserves. It's one of the great black comedies I have seen, a fierce yet hilarious critique on the death penalty. Berlanga's inspiration is Franco's regime which practised it, but it has a universal appeal.

Filled with memorable gags, the story starts with Jose Luís (Nino Manfredi), an undertaker who is thinking of moving to Germany to become a good mechanic. In love with Carmen, daughter of Amadeo (José Isbert), an executioner, he is one day discovered by her father during there moment of intimacy and is forced to marry her – the undertaker marries an executioner's daughter. Jose Luís is faced with economic difficulties and the urgent need to create a new home for his new wife. The only way of solving this problem, it seems, would be accepting his father in law's offer (Amadeo): to take the vacant place of executioner Amadeo is leaving due to retirement. Only this way will he get a home. Under pressure from his surrounding, Jose Luís accepts the job convinced that he will never have to put it into practise. Life goes on pleasantly in his new home until one day he receives the feared telegram: he must execute a convicted man.

The story, filmed in a black and white photography that feels so fresh, sounds serious because below the comical surface, lies not only the serious subject matter of death penalty but also the wide spread pessimism caused by Franco's regime. Director Berlange could have chosen to tell the story as sad drama but he doesn't: in a way, he is laughing at the absurd logic and inhumanity he feels the death sentence is. The film's true brilliance lies not in the wonderful all around performances, but in its screenplay that takes on a comic tone that is apparently inoffensive to condemn an action that is just as inhuman as those committed by the executed. And the great irony is that the executioner goes through much worse emotionally than the executed in a great sequence. The movie looks with amusement at the idea of how those who execute can go on there days with a calm conscience. But don't get the wrong idea, El Verdugo does not portray the condemned as victims – it is not interested in there guilt or innocence. The only victims, it suggests, are those that accept to practise inhumanity under the name of justice. There are so many brilliant comical sequences that have nothing to admire from the exhausted and cheap comedies we get from many of the films nowadays.

This is a film that will certainly be less appealing to those in favour of the death penalty. For those who do not which to dwell on such a subject can look at it on its simplest level, which is that of a first rate comical masterpiece.

Here we have a tragicomedy about executions released in 1963, when executions and censorship did still exist in Spain. How did they do it...? I only can say... using their imagination. It has a really brilliant story, and a screenplay that combines in a so wise way the comic and dramatic/tragic aspects of the story. Also, the actors know at every moment what to do. As a result we find a really funny film, a really sad film... and a perfect recreation of the reaction of common people to a hard and dangerous epoque. A masterpiece in my opinion.

Spanish writer-director Luis García Berlanga's eighth feature film is a Spain-Italy co-production, stars Italian matinée idol Nino Manfredi as an unassuming undertaker, José Luis Rodríguez, whose marriage prospect is not so encouraging due to his profession. Through chance meeting with a senior prison executioner Amadeo (Isbert), he gets acquainted with his daughter Carmen (Penella), who is also pestered by the same pickle, no one is willing to marry her simply because of Amadeo's job, so the two chime in instantly and apparently it is a perfect match, but soon life put José through the wringer of a series of exigencies (Carmen's pregnancy, marriage and a thorny apartment issue), his ideal future where he can get rid of this disreputable trade becomes more and more unattainable, once he has been pushed to register as a successor of his father-in-law, aka. a new executioner is born.

On the horns of a dilemma, José's predicament is wittily delineated through Berlanga's delightful verve, exerts a realistic spin on the irony of life, how one's ideal having been gradually crushed by the twist of fate. Manfredi's interpretation of José affects in earnest, he is spontaneously sympathetic to establish José as a nobody, stuck in the line of work which he doesn't like, exhibits his own foibles through his marriage, and lives by his blind faith that he could still opt out against the worst-case scenario, until his melt-down when the bubble is burst.

Veteran Spanish actor José Isbert plays Amadeo enthusiastically, who is decidedly persevering in tricking José to take over his mantle, so as to secure the marriage and an apartment assigned from the government, he is manipulative on top of his goody-goody persona, but we cannot blame him for his simple-mined selfishness, plainly because that's the widespread mindset among most people in the world. As for Emma Fenella, her Carmen is an uncomplicated sort, maternal, down- to-earth and forges strong protection to the men in her life.

The satirical connotation of morbidness seeps through the debate over the variations of death penalty (garrotte seems to be the most civilised choice), and a unanimous bias towards a now obsolete vocation. A vignette of José and Carmen's frugal wedding right after a fancier one, and the tour in Palma de Mallorca, where the lovey-dovey luxuriates in a string concert on the creek inside a large cave, exactly in that moment, José's duty call arrives, these are brilliant instances where realism meets cinematic creation, whether they are bittersweet, heartfelt or intriguing, together they bring about vigour and pleasure to the audience and it is a telling testimony of a director's faculty.