Around the World in 24 Frames 10.02.09: Viridiana
Posted by Len Archibald on 10.02.2009
Luis Buñuel's delightful warning about how charity can bite you in the you-know-what.
Good Friday to you all! This has been the longest week in history (I think cold weather does that) so I'm happy that you are reading this...because the weekend's about to start!
The Rant
I guess the easy thing would be to rant about Roman Polanski and my feelings about his arrest this week. In my mind, it is akin to Chris Benoit murdering his family. Is it possible to separate the man's work and contributions to the artistic culture he's a part of from the man who committed a horrible crime?
Polanski is a brilliant filmmaker. A craftsman who helmed some of the absolute greatest films ever. Chinatown. Rosemary's Baby. Knife in the Water. He directed Adrien Brody to an Oscar (and snagged one for himself) for The Pianist. He knows movies and the art and craft of movies inside and out.
Roman Polanski, in my mind at least, is also a child-rapist piece of shit. That is the man behind the gems. The man behind the curtain, so to speak. There is no amount of rationale or explanation that can be made for his case. I can't imagine the pain and suffering he felt when Sharon Tate was murdered by the Manson family. I can't imagine how much that could have possibly messed him up emotionally. I know from research it was that tragedy that basically inspired him to change the ending to Chinatown, where Paramount wanted a more upbeat finale.
…but that does not excuse the fact that he intoxicated, drugged and raped a child. She may have forgiven him now in her adult years, and that is good for her. In my heart, I have forgiven him because I'm not one to carry hate – especially for people that I don't know.
He should still do his time. He should still be punished for the crime he committed. He FLED the country. He made that choice. If he didn't, he would have been out of jail a LONG time ago. Now, in his 70's, he's probably gonna face more time than he originally would have.
Chris Benoit put his body through excruciating damage. He took steroids. He took chairshots. He took the brunt of physical punishment to make everything he did look "real" and received multiple concussions – and his fans appreciated the detail he put into his work as a professional wrestler. He still murdered his wife and child. He's still a murderer. It doesn't change anything. He had dementia from concussions? Kind of convenient that he had them over the weekend, just before a particular event that everyone believed was a "demotion". Documents have emerged to show that he had a violent temper and history. He very conveniently sent a text about where he lived and the ease in how to access his home. He KNEW what he was planning to do, and he did it. HE did it. The concussions didn't make him do it. Chairshots didn't make him do it. The semi-tragedy from being on SmackDown to being "demoted" to ECW didn't make him do it. Chris Benoit made that choice.
Charles Manson didn't tell Roman Polanski to anally rape a 13-year old girl. The ghost of Sharon Tate or any emotional trauma didn't force Polanski to make a choice he had no conscious way of overturning. No amount of tragedy makes someone give champagne and drugs to an underage girl then force himself on her. Nothing does that but the person who makes that choice.
So, I won't feel "uneasy" watching Chinatown or Rosemary's Baby. Just as I don't feel a hint of unease when I watch the conclusion to WrestleMania XX and see Chris Benoit hold the World Heavyweight Title high above his head as confetti rains inside Madison Square Garden. I don't need help separating the "man" from the "work".
He did that all by himself.
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I love movies. They represent escapism, art, intellect and spirituality. Some are nothing more than popcorn flicks, designed to ease the burden of "real-life" for a couple of hours. Some bring important issues to the forefront that challenges how we perceive our surroundings. The most important thing for me – if one is a serious film-goer – is to constantly expand and discover new movies. This includes experiencing stories told outside of North America.
Yes, I know: "I don't like to read while I watch movies". Well, neither do I, but I won't use that to prevent me from finding a great story within the screen. It is important, as human beings to discover other cultures and expand our perceptions of those different from us and how they see the world. There are reasons that Bergman, Kurosawa, Fellini, Ozu and Truffaut are important in the movie world – They are just great at what they do.
I intend to highlight a new film every week that is considered "foreign-language"; now that definition is simple, yet broad and complex. For example, if you need subtitles to understand the events of the plot, I will discuss it. If it is a film from a primarily English-speaking nation, but is *NOT* in English (i.e. Leolo or Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner from Canada), I will discuss. If it is a film from outside the U.S. and it *is* in English, I will not discuss (sorry, Brits & Aussies) – for now. My goal is to shed light on some of these gems, and help quell the insatiable appetites for those who can't live without seeing a new movie. Enjoy!
Viridiana (1962)
Spain
Dir: Luis Buñuel
Runtime: 90 min
I am somewhat religious, with the odd lean towards Christianity. I begin with this little fact to express how I feel about critiquing films. One must be objective at all times when engaged in some form of "opinionated" journalism. Even as open-minded as I hope I am, I – like every other human being - still have ingrained prejudices and taboos. I was deeply into my Christian faith at one point and had it completely shattered. I went through a bit of atheism for a while and now I would be what some would consider a deist. I believe in…Something.
If I saw Luis Buñuel's 1962 film Viridiana at any other moment in my life than the precise time I discovered it, I would have dismissed it as cruel, blasphemous and sacrilegious. But I first watched the film mere days after I questioned my faith in God. The film is close to me because it perfectly vindicated how I felt during that period in my life – but at the same time showed me that perhaps there are greater forces at work. How did this film exist and I never saw it until then? How was it that I was now prepared to see it? At the time I considered the film (wait for ironic drumroll…) a Godsend.
Viridiana had the dubious honor of being banned from Buñuel's native Spain for sixteen years, despite winning the P'alme D'Or at Cannes in 1961. It was produced by the Franco Government after inviting Buñuel to return to his homeland to make a film after exile. My one and only question is: What the hell (literally) was Franco thinking? Did he not see L'Age D'Or? He should have known what he was getting into.
Viridiana stars Silvia Pinal as the titular character, a young novitiate who is about to take her vows and become a nun. She is pressured (a common theme for the poor girl) to visit her only living relative, her uncle Don Jaime (Fernando Rey) with whom she has a cold relationship with. Viridiana does not want to go, as she feels her place is with the church, but she must learn forgiveness as a final testimony to God and her covenant with Him – Jaime has been Viridiana's benefactor; she should learn to show him some gratitude. Another common theme, the one that resonated with me the most at the time – and the one that pretty much pissed off Franco's government and The Vatican, is that it's very possible for Holy intentions to be marred and overtaken by the unholy intentions of man. Stew on that for a moment. That's pretty bleak.
Viridiana arrives at her uncle's estate, where it's painfully obvious that Don Jaime's intentions are far from noble. He believes that his niece bears a striking resemblance to that of his deceased wife and intends to marry her. Upon learning of this news, Viridiana attempts to escape, only to be captured by her uncle and drugged with the assistance of his servant, Ramona (Margarita Lozano.) She is taken to her room, where Don Jaime considers raping the young would-be-nun in her sleep. A fit of conscience enters, and he thinks otherwise and leaves. The next morning he tells Viridiana that he took her virginity in her sleep and that means she can no longer return to the convent. He feels this will be enough to convince her to marry him, but she responds with absolute disgust, packs and flees the estate. Don Jaime begs for forgiveness, even going so far to explain that he lied about everything, but it falls on deaf ears. On her way back to the convent, authorities stop her – and pressures (there's that word again) her to go back to the estate as something terrible has occurred. She returns to find that Don Jaime committed suicide by hanging himself.
I think we can see the link in the chain, here. Viridiana was told that she needed to learn forgiveness to complete her covenant to God. Her lack of forgiveness (in her mind) may have had a hand in her uncle's death. So, she makes the logical decision to stay at the estate to fulfill her uncle's wishes and as penance…Even though she did nothing wrong.
Luis Buñuel could have played this as strangely as he wanted to. He could have easily made the estate a surrealist's nightmarish dream and played the whole thing under the guise of a subtle comedy. But where Buñuel shows that he is a step above "good" directors and is a "great" one, is that he knows when to play things straight. The narrative for the opening moments leading up to the turning point in Viridiana's life was shot beautifully in stark black and white, using every bit of restraint he would not have held when he was the headstrong surrealist who made Un Chien Andalou.
Silvia Pinal plays Viridiana as a woman that is timid in her discourse but strong in her convictions and with her striking beauty on the camera, it is a joy to behold. She is steadfast and extreme in her beliefs, carrying a crown of thorns in her suitcase and performing religious acts while sleepwalking. Fernando Rey, who would later give Buñuel another great performance in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972) is convincing as both a vile perverted soul and a lonely old man (at one moment, he plays with his dead wife's wedding clothes – the ones that fit.) The interior of Don Jaime's estate is a wondrous marvel of design.
The fact that the story plays as a realistic tragedy is Buñuel's tease to the audience. We think we are in the world of a conventional film. It is at this point that he reminds us why he is simply Luis Buñuel.
Viridiana decides to devote her life to the needy, much in the vein (or vain) of Mother Theresa. This will be her penance. She presses on in her faith, despite having to deal with Ramona and her bratty child, Rita (Teresa Rabal) as she takes in the vagrants of the village to the estate. She places them in an outbuilding and tasks herself with the mission of morally educating, feeding and sheltering this band of misfits. She turns her back on the convent – the second only true decision she willingly makes in the film.
While this occurs, Don Jaimie's illegitimate son, Jorge (Francisco Rabal), moves into the estate with his girlfriend, Lucia (Victoria Zinny) as a joint benefactor to Don Jaime's estate (along with Viridiana herself.) Of course, it doesn't take long for Jorge to lust after the poor would-be-nun and once again her pious character is tested.
What Luis Buñuel is a master of is subconscious emotional manipulation. While he has shocking images in his films (and don't think Viridiana doesn't) the shock is more out from the ideas and intentions of the images. Robert Altman played with Da Vinci's "The Last Supper" in a great moment in M*A*S*H*, but it was treated more of a happy coincidence and was not directly involved with the plot or the intent of Altman's "message". Buñuel uses "The Last Supper" almost in a perverse, ironic manner – using the paupers to pose in a macabre version of one of the most famous paintings known to man. He knew exactly what he was doing, and why –and leaves a feeling of uneasiness behind the shot.
Another moment from early in the film: Viridiana happily requests a glass of milk from a cow farmer. She asks if it's difficult to milk it. He suggests for her to try herself. We watch as Buñuel frames and edits shots of Viridiana, her hand and the upside-down (yet phallic looking) nipple. She grabs it, and strokes it in a manner that one would stroke…something else – and then she yanks her hand away, happily repulsed by what she did. Was she thinking what Buñuel intended the audience to think or are we just dirty-minded creatures and misinterpreted that moment? Buñuel liked to tease both the characters and the audience with subconscious paradoxes that made one question their own sense of moral purity.
In his 1962 review, BOSLEY CROWTHER of the New York Times considered Buñuel's film to be "bitter", "intense" and "old fashioned". I understand "intense", but I'm not so certain about the other two adjectives. Even though Buñuel was atheist, his film was not an all-out attack of Christianity. There is no real bitterness involved in the plot. Viridiana is strong about her convictions, faith and wants to help her fellow man – but she isn't without good intent. It isn't her that the film has reservations over, it's the world around her. She attempts to help the vagrants and they repay her in ways she did not expect because she truly believes that "no good deed goes unpunished".
I also think that the situation that the film was made in needs consideration. Franco was a fascist. Buñuel was not. Franco's Spain was one that was heavily into religion, specifically Catholicism. Buñuel wasn't just an advocate against organized religion, but all socialized institutions in general – and he might not have been if he wasn't exposed to the gross hypocrisy that taints these institutions' good intentions. Again, what was Franco thinking, allowing Buñuel the freedom to make the film he wanted to make? He was not going to be like his protagonist and cater to his "audience" only for them to take advantage of him. That was Viridiana's downfall; but at the same time, she was not prepared for how the world works. It's funny, because I think this film is a Republican's wet dream and a Democrat's worst nightmare – it clearly argues that social programs do not work because most will take advantage of it for their own gain and in turn, will not become a productive contributor to society.
Buñuel moves Viridiana with the pace of a patient hand, slowly burning our time with each of these characters, most of them likable or misunderstood until he brings all elements together for a raging climax that finally shows Viridiana she is unable to help everyone and the world is ultimately more cruel than she thought. By the time Viridiana ends, she is ready to step through the doors of reality and understand how to truly "help" without being pious about it…Or she could be ready to test out her untested sexuality – the finale is open-ended.
When Viridiana was completed and accepted into the Cannes Film Festival, after unsuccessfully having the film withdrawn, the Spanish government banned it from being released. The official Vatican newspaper, L'Osservarore Romano called the movie "blasphemous". Buñuel, in his dry sarcastic manner stated, "I didn't deliberately set out to be blasphemous, but then Pope John XXIII is a better judge of such things than I am". There are dueling reports that the Catholic church pressured Franco to ban the film and that Franco himself did not find the film offensive. The ban was lifted in 1977, after Franco's death.
I would consider Viridiana to be Buñuel's most accessible film. It toys with melodrama, basically deals with realistic characters and situations and is light (at least by Buñuel standards) on symbolic imagery. It is also the first step in a slew of inspired works Buñuel would produce over a span of nearly seventeen years: he would release the exceptional The Exterminating Angel the same year as Viridiana, which would serve as the template for his most commercially successful picture, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (if you've seen both films, you will know one is just a reverse take on the other.)
If one first observed the works of Luis Buñuel, they may believe that he hates human beings. I think Buñuel was cynical, but what filmmaker isn't? What set him apart from other cynical filmmakers (Lars von Trier, I'm looking at you) is that he doesn't use his skewed impression of the world to preach how much more evolved he is on this planet full of hypocrites and sycophants (tm, Chris Jericho.) In fact, I think he understands that even he is and was capable of the flaws that made us human, and instead of looking down at them, he looked straight at them. A naïve Viridiana began the film looking up for the answers, and then piously looked down at them. All she needed to do was look ahead and concentrate on her own path. That's when she discovered Rock and Roll.
There's nothing wrong with that.
I couldn't find an actual trailer for Viridiana, but here is a scene to whet your appetite. Enjoy!
{Film Passport Stamped]
Coming Attractions: Part Four of Buñuel's films; An erotic slice of life. Buzzing, meows and bells are necessary.
Questions or comments? Email me at aa24frames@aol.com!!!
