Les saints innocents

Back to the beginning of the 20th century, the countryside of the Iberian peninsula was controlled by land tenants who enjoyed a set of privileges that would be considered more typical of the middle ages than of modern times. As for example, having enslaved families working on their farms.

Now this is obviously an issue that 2 actual European Union countries like Spain and Portugal don't like to be reminded of. Nobody likes to remember that less than 50 years ago this was still a reality. So with time it became a non-issue, an unsponsored reality.

What Camus does with this movie is remarkable. Not only by his technique and the end result of this film, but mainly because it gives voice - and more importantly, it gives images - to this hundred of anonymous stories that were never portrayed before with such care.

A must see.

The DVD I received from Corte Ingles includes a trailer for "Boda de Sangre" (Lorca) and this film is similar in spirit, but with even greater tension. This story is reminiscent of Cela's "Familia Duarte", and indeed the DVD includes a trailer to Cela's "Colmena" also, though I haven't seen that film.

I agree with the strong evaluations and comments of other viewers. I'll add that I enjoyed the handling of time in the film, through intermittent flashbacks and juxtapositions of modern elements - e.g., the automobiles driven by the landowners - with the nearly stone-age level of the protagonist family.

Yet for me, the level of dramatic tension became, frankly, too great to bear. I don't know how I could have handled it in a theater. Given I had mouse control, I interrupted it a few times for relief. Then, about two-thirds through, I forwarded the film to see the end. There are occasions when social realism can produce a tale of social horror harder to watch and bear than anything Hollywood's chainsaw boys ever dreamed of.

The acting and cinematography are excellent. I can imagine viewers trying to laugh at Azarias' (Francisco Rabal) rustic charm. His performance is unforgettable - especially as he, like a hand of fate (azar) delivers the much-needed catharsis near the end - but I, and I presume most, will surely view him as a charming and touching victim, fleeing reality to the extent his old age permits - until a certain cruel act drives him to action.

I would have preferred a balancing of the harshness of this film with more moments of beauty to serve as relief, as in the French Manon (e.g., Jean de Florette) films. But here, the actual social conditions were far harsher - "epoca negra" stuff at its worst - and I presume that to add such relief would have been untrue to history. For me, Familia Duarte and Boda de Sangre sufficed.

I will conclude in recommending some of Delibes' recent works. He has a wonderful sense of humor and a great versatility of style that enables him to relate even everyday events in the most charming and entertaining way. It's hard to believe that the same man who wrote Santos Inocentes also wrote "Diario de un Jubilado" and "Mis Amigas las Truchas" or "Las Perdices de Domingo". And hard to believe how far Spain and Europe have come.

The last twenty five years of Spanish filmography have produced a number of titles which have indulged in sociological themes, mostly using the years of the Franco Régime as a background when not a mere scapegoat. El Sur (Victor Erice)(qv), Las Ratas (Giménez Rico)(qv), Las Bicicletas son para el Verano (Jaime Chávarri) as well as several by the now deceased Pilar Miró, come to mind. But perhaps none reach the powerful endorsement achieved in Los Santos Inocentes, carefully and predictably directed by Mario Camus. Faithfully transferred from the book by Miguel Delibes, also author of Las Ratas, as well as singularly impressive narratives such as Cinco Horas con Mario, a true tour de force in contemporary literature, and the intensely lyrical and moving El Camino, Camus inspired the principal actors - Paco Rabal, Alfredo Landa and Terele Pávez - into producing some memorable scenes.

Scenes of illiterate peasants obeying their master, landowner, insensible to everything except his passion for hunting; peasants who were so hugely grateful for the handful of pennies so compassionately handed out by the rich duchess; peasants who grovelled in the filth of their mean shack and could barely write their own names. Spain: about 1962 if the registration number of the big black Mercedes is anything to go by. Spain, in the region called Extremadura, which even today is the poorest part of the country. Spain, governed by a dictator who himself was extremely uncultured.

Camus, armed with the simple but sincere exposition in Delibes' novel, manages to show this plight, but without the tremendism so frequent in Spanish books or films; without any soured feelings, but dispassionately, like a surgeon operating for the five hundredth time on gall-stones. The story was there to be told and not sympathized over. Not for the pop-corn eating public, more for the discerning cinema-goer who can give what the film demands: attention to details. The incision is precise, exact, giving greater credibility to this little masterpiece.

This the fourth Spanish language film recommended to me as essential viewing by my next-door Spanish neighbours and another excellent choice it is too.

I'm not familiar with the source novel but understand that the setting here is early 60's rural Spain, with the country very much in the Franco dictatorial era which lasted until the mid-70's when democracy and the constitutional monarchy were restored. I'm from the United Kingdom where we probably like every other developed country think we know something of the class struggle but I was staggered at the gap represented here between rich and poor in a recognisably modern context.

We're immediately introduced to the key character of Francisco Rabal's Azarias character, a big unkempt man who although he might be slow mentally nevertheless has an affinity with nature and a particular talent for befriending and petting birds. He also however has no concept of good manners or acceptable behaviour as we easily gauge from his twin habits of defecating in public places and urinating on his hands to stop them, as he says, from chapping. When he loses his position at a wealthy family he joins up with his married sister, her husband and their three children, who are likewise at the lowest end of the social scale.

The family live a life of hardship and drudgery, the husband employed as his selfish draconian, well-to-do master's underling and who has a special skill for beating out game birds for his blood-sport loving boss to shoot by the dozen. His wife helps about the big house, while of their three children, the oldest is keen to escape this life of serfdom and join the army, their middle daughter looks like she will follow her mother into service although there's an inference that she might well be corrupted before she's much older by some rich boor who will treat her as available and willing. Lastly, the couple have a desperately sick younger daughter who is always being carried around and who frequently cries out in pain. At no stage does anyone of the gentry show the slightest concern for this distressed child's obviously ailing health. This miserable family, now plus Azarias, try to eke out a pathetic existence living lives of virtual slavery, their accommodation, you couldn't call it a home, comprising a hovel lit by one bare light bulb. These people resemble nothing so much as Van Gogh's "The Potato Eaters" and yet they are required to accept their lives of grinding poverty as something to thank their monied benefactors.

As for the rich folk, we are permitted some insight into their shallow lives as they periodically arrange or attend grand banquets in the palatial grounds of their grand homes, salve their social consciences by giving their lowly servants the most rudimentary of educations or distributing some low-value coin to them from their position of exaltation. Unsurprisingly, they can also openly indulge in marital affairs, brazenly carrying these on in front of their mute staff witnesses.

It all comes to a head when the peasant husband accidentally falls out of a tree in the course of his duties as a beater, badly breaking his leg in the process. His callous master however has no care or concern for the acute pain the old man is suffering and pushes him to attend a prestigious big hunt he's organising for his fellow-bourgeoisie. Let's just say that while technically speaking the story ends in tragedy, in truth, the conclusion seems altogether almost satisfactory and deserved.

Shot in shades of grey and ochre, in a super-naturalistic style and acted in a hyper-realistic manner by the ensemble cast, its hard not to be reminded of the work of British director Ken Loach who certainly ploughs a similar field. It can't be a coincidence that Azaria bonds with a kite the way the same way the young boy does with his pet kestrel in Loach's "Kes".

It is a slow, arid and at times depressing film. There is some cross-cutting with the timeline by the director which I found slightly confusing at times but the itruth here appears to be that While I understand that the system in rural Spain was widespread well into the 70's, one would like to think that not all master and servant relationships were as stark and brutal as depicted here.

Modern day slavery is unfortunately still happening around the world over as evidenced by stories which occasionally but continually surface on the news. That it seemed to be rife in Spain as late as the 60's is a savage indictment of the status quo in Spanish society.

My eyes were certainly opened by what I saw here. Consider it the disturbing, dark contrast to the French "Manon De Source" and "Jean De Florette" films of around the same time. And remember that the usury witnessed here still went on in Spain only 50 years or so ago.

In the opening scenes of this movie, I couldn't tell what century it was. The peasant family living in their hovel with no electricity or running water and their subservient attitude toward the master made me wonder if this movie was taking place in the 19th century. But no, a car appeared, a model from the 1960s, so I knew that it took place in relatively recent times.

Filmed in muted, grayish tones reminiscent of a Goya painting, this film gives one an idea of what life must have been like, not only for Spanish peasants in the Franco era but also for medieval serfs and slaves in the pre-Civil War South. The master and mistress treat their own whims as more important than the peasants' needs, require them to act and speak in a subservient manner, act as if small favors are huge concessions (The family gets to move into a house with electricity!), and literally treat the men of the family as if they were hunting dogs, forcing them to fetch the game that the master spends an inordinate amount of time shooting. In one case, a man is forced to fetch while trying to recover from a broken leg. When foreign visitors criticize the master and mistress for their treatment of the peasants, they make a big show of demonstrating that the peasants are happy and can write their own names (but only because they have just been taught).

But the world is changing, and even the meekest peasant may reach his limit...

Unfortunately, this film has never been released on DVD for Region 1, and the Region 2 version is out of print, so few people will be able to see this brutal but fascinating glimpse of the twilight of an era when Spanish society was composed of countless little dictatorships.