O Alucinado

I had these words by Alex Epstein in mind when I left the theater. Before I went to watch Él I knew Hitchcock had taken a bit to draw Vertigo. Well, it's not simply a bit.

Buñuel's style is both graceful and low-key. It's a pity this made his work less obviously marvelous to masses. On the other hand if there is something lacking in Él this is a gripping suspense. Something Hitch mastered with his will to enthrall masses. Buñuel's directing is more on the side of actors for us to hesitate between judging the characters and just waiting for more... which is exactly the theme.

Bringing psychological torments to screen is definitely not easy a directing choice . It's a challenge for the upper-crust and I remember Hitchcock's Spellbound was not really convincing, neither was Fritz Lang's Secret beyond the door. Yet each brought something to be chewed for others to experiment.

Following your advice, I recently 'relented' to buying from Alapage the two Luis Bunuel Double-Feature discs released in France by Film Sans Frontieres. After watching them in their entirety, I cannot believe that I, who consider Bunuel my all-time favorite director and one of the true masters of the medium, have waited this long to acquire these DVDs. Actually while Alapage listed these DVDs at EUR25.73 on their site, they only cost me EUR21.51 each (excluding EUR12 shipping charges). So, if there is still anybody who has not purchased them yet, now may be the time to do so!

Since I had never watched EL (1952) before, it was the first one to go through my DVD player. It was a chilling parable of an insanely jealous middle-aged man played with acute intensity by Arturo De Cordova. It afforded Bunuel ample opportunity to make practical use of overt Freudian symbolism without lending the film a heavy-handed air of pretentiousness. While there are some critics who consider it as merely 'an engaging, minor work', I regard it as being among Bunuel's finest; arguably, with this film, Bunuel reached the culmination of his work in Mexico, but it also looks forward to similar sequences and themes he would tackle later on in his career, especially TRISTANA (1970) and, his last film, THAT OBSCURE OBJECT OF DESIRE (1977).

EL was beautifully abetted by another of his low-budget Mexican films, the great black comedy THE CRIMINAL LIFE OF ARCHIBALDO DE LA CRUZ (1955). Again, critical reception was a bit muted in some circles, dismissing it as 'just a throwaway oddity' typical of Bunuel's films of the period. However, it is much more than that: it is certainly very funny if you can accept its macabre sense of humor. It allowed Bunuel to create some of the most memorable images in all of his films, especially the celebrated dummy incineration scene, which could have been "inspired" by a similar scene in Michael Curtiz's marvelous MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM (1933) which Bunuel must have seen while working at Warner Bros. in the Thirties. A similar instance of this eclectic approach on Bunuel's part can be found in the "walking hand" sequence in his THE EXTERMINATING ANGEL (1962) - one of my favorite Bunuels - which harks back to an identical premise in Robert Florey's THE BEAST WITH FIVE FINGERS (1946), another Warner Bros. horror melodrama. For me, one of the enduring assets of THE CRIMINAL LIFE OF ARCHIBALDO DE LA CRUZ is the charm and great beauty that was Miroslava Stern (who played the part of Lavinia and was the model for the ill-fated dummy). Tragically, she would take her own life a mere two weeks after the film's release with her body, ironically enough, ending up cremated!

Both the print utilized and the transfer for both films were adequate enough, and perfectly acceptable under the circumstances. However, EL's overall visual and aural qualities where distinctly superior to those of ARCHIBALDO which suffered from excessive specks and slight audio dropouts at times, but were never so alarming as to dispel from one's viewing pleasure of the film.

As his most technically accomplished Mexican-period movie, and almost a mainstream one, this film can be an enjoyable first introduction into Buñuel's obsessions: the same ones that ruled the surrealistic movement. The underground psychological streams in the mind are finely expressed in this story of a pathological jealous and his victim. In his Mexican exile, Buñuel was forced to make "nourishing movies", that were the most conventional ones in his filmography, but he managed to smuggle his surrealistic ideals into all of them (even he could make the absolutely surrealistic "The Exterminating Angel").

Based on an autobiographic novel by Spanish fellow countrywoman Mercedes Pinto, this film is the vehicle for displaying many marvelous surreal moments. It can also be viewed as a brilliant clinical recreation of paranoid distress, but Buñuel recognized that the protagonist, Francisco Galván, although insane, had many of his own obsessions: his view of love as an absolute imperative, the violent impulses, the fetishism for female feet…The story shifts from one point of view to another, which is the only way to understand the "two stories" in psychotic disorders.

Part of the story and many of the ideas were used later by Hitchcock for his masterpiece "Vertigo (From among the dead)". It is difficult to say plagiarism when talking about cinema, but this would be one occasion for it. It is not coincidence that both directors share a taste for the expressive properties of objects (not only as Macguffin); as two reluctantly catholic directors, objects usually act as "sacraments" for their narrative. In "El" the church and its symbols are the background for the repression and the blooming of instincts; other Buñuel's stories may be more connected with religion than this one, but "El" shows a life absolutely permeated by the relationship of primary impulses ("eros" and "thanatos") with spiritual transcend ency. With churches as the setting of the key moments of the story (desire, love encounter, the urge for murder, disappointment), church is at the beginning and the ending of this story narrated by the man who said "Thank God, I'm an atheist".

Although was filmed in three weeks, in the midst of the limitations of Mexican film industry, the movie is close to perfection in formal terms. In contrast with his previous movies, in which a still camera was predominant, in this one the camera movements are constant. The performances and the choice of cast is the most accurate of the Buñuel's Mexican-period.

This tale of a pathologically jealous husband, whose delusions of cuckoldry teeter over the edge into madness, ranks with BELLE DE JOUR and the early surrealist films as the first rank of the Bunuel canon. The ending, which has audiences screaming out loud in a mixture of gruesome delight and horror, would probably drive Brian DePalma to death by alcohol if he saw it. Brian, don't watch, okay?

Made in 1952, between "Robinson Crusoe" and "Wuthering Heights," this may not be one of Bunuel's major films, but it contains several of his key themes and recurring images, starting with the ceremonial washing and kissing of feet. The film also goes into the politics of submission and domination, the effects of long-term sexual repression, and -- of course -- sewing.

Bunuel understood obsession and was able to convey it on screen like no other director. As irrational as his characters can get (and Francisco gets plenty irrational in this film), Bunuel knows that we all have our hangups which seem normal to us, no matter how grotesque they may look to an outside viewer. (There's a reason why the alternate title for this film is "This Strange Passion.")