Around the World in 24 Frames 10.16.09: The Exterminating Angel
Posted by Len Archibald on 10.16.2009
The final chapter in my Luis Buñuel retrospective: One of the cooler titles in film history and a plot that won't allow you to leave. Come on in like the good sheep you are.
Around the world, bay-bee!
Around the world! (oh yeah)
Around the world, bay-bee!
Around the world! (oh yeah)
Around the world, bay-bee!
Ooooh, oooooh, oooooh!
Welcome to another Friday and another week of "Around the World in 24 Frames", brought to you by the world's true first famous white rapper, fellow Torontonian, Kish! I wonder what he's doing right now…
The Rant
"I mean, You won! Do you wanna wipe everyone out?" "I don't feel I need to wipe everyone out, Tom. Just my enemies."
-Michael (Al Pacino) explains his view on competition to Tom Hagen (Robert Duvall) in The Godfather, Part II.
So, I will level with my readers - all four of you - on a little secret: I consider myself (and am considered to be) a walking movie encyclopedia. I know years movies were made, who starred and worked on specific titles, plot lines, continuity errors, awards, box office and critical reception, etc. I also pride myself on understanding film history: conditions on set during the making of certain films, relationships between directors and actors, media buzz, scandals, effects, changes and influences films had on technology and society – and also having a keen understanding of movies on a shot-by-shot basis (lighting, composition, color schemes, effects and so on.) Hell, I even know all the movies that John Wayne died in (which even shocked and scared me when the topic came up.)
I have attained all this – proudly – without ever stepping foot in the halls of a college or university. Everything I know (and I feel I know a lot – not everything, I'm not that arrogant) I've learned from watching movies, reading screenplays, watching documentaries, reading essays and retrospectives, watching interviews, reading biographies, writing and shooting my own films and interviewing those involved in the movie-making business…And watching more movies. I come from the DIY generation of filmmakers who worship at the altar of Cassevettes and Rodriguez. I admit I have had a LOT of time on my hands in my past to obtain what some consider as "useless information". I can't help it…I'm a movie-geek - deal with it.
Anyways, what this boils down to is that I've reached a crossroads. I am quickly approaching my 31st birthday and I have looked back upon my life and analyzed where I am compared to where I want to be. I used to put a lot of pressure upon myself when I was in school – a product of being considered a child prodigy when I was three years old (ugh) and have always carried that with me…Honestly to the point where at many times I self-sabotaged my path to success.
The truth of the matter is I've always been intimidated by the walls of higher education. Not so much "the life" of a post-secondary existence, but the people and what those people mean to me. If you're involved in any way with the "creative and artistic business", you're probably a neurotic nut that holds dear every idea you ever created as your baby and caressed even the ugliness of the afterbirth of your own imaginary visions with the paralyzing fear of being critiqued, analyzed – or even worse…corrected. "This is art! This is how *I* do it! Spare me your lectures about ‘craft', ‘prose' and ‘structure' how dare you have the gall to not ‘get' my complex ideas!"
It goes even deeper than that. As an artist, I have an ego four times the size of Texas, and ten times the size of the normal Texan. As such, I see other artists as not "fellow artists" – but as "competition". As such, it is my goal to terminate all who stand in my way with "extreme prejudice" (I just quoted two Coppola movies! Score for me!) And when you constantly get fed numbers about how many people try to break in and how few actually do, you get a little paranoid – levels varying between Ozzy Ozbourne paranoia (drugged out) and Kanye West paranoia (batshit insane.)
I have always had a terrible fear of meeting others with greater ideas, with a better grasp of technology, a better command of their actors and a grander sense of film history, a sense of wordplay and a better eye and understanding of the visual environment – in other words, I've always been afraid to be in an environment where people are…better than me. That's my fault. That's an arrogant and selfish sense of self-loathing and pride that I need to work on.
It's funny how moving out of your comfort zone changes your perspective. I won't go into the details of my entire life story, but basically this is it in a nutshell – I was wrapped up in a life where I made a ton of stupid decisions that stunted my mind and growth as a human being and escaped. Along the way I met my future wife who has been my inspiration. I now live in a town of 1400 people and I get by writing for you guys (with absolutely no regrets) and performing and directing community theater.
That would be an okay life for someone who appreciates and is attracted to the simplicities of life, but I am not a simple man. Please don't misconstrue that as saying I hold myself in a higher regard than others who appreciate the simple life. I'm just saying I'm a city boy with big dreams of making it in the big city. I have not attended my home film festival in six years (Toronto) – I have been able to find a few people in the near six years living in rural Ohio that shares my zeal and love for films – and even fewer that are interested in MAKING them. It is not cool to have all this information and creative energy bursting out of my pores and barely anyone to bounce it off of. I've been involved in more than one conversation that starts out about the composition of a shot or a theme from a movie that somehow tangents into discussing Ohio State Football. Not that there's anything wrong with that (GO BUCKS!) Somewhere there was an awkward segue way into a territory that I did not anticipate on embarking on. This is not the life for me.
So at the behest of my wife, I have decided to take the plunge and go back to school. With a mortgage, car payment, the cost of gas and groceries, utilities and having our niece live with us, it won't be easy. There is a very real chance of financial strain. There is the chance that it may overwhelm me as I keep my day job (I will be taking online courses – I'm not insane to just pack up and move to N.Y. or L.A.…yet.) There is a very real possibility that I will fall flat on my face and realize that I have *no* talent at all and I should leave movie-making to the Michael Bay's of the world. No, scratch that – I *must* succeed, if for no other reason to be another viable alternative to the Michael Bay's of the world.
I guess I've grown tired of my fears of meeting people with a higher caliber of talent than myself since there are VERY FEW people around where I live with a high caliber of talent to begin with. I have changed my outlook and see it as 1) a process in which I can learn something new from people at my level and they may learn something from me, and 2) a challenge, where I can find new ways to better understand the mindset of those who may have a more expansive knowledge of a particular asset of film-making and make that extra effort to outwit and outlast my fellow artists. Some may have a great eye, but have no sense of business. Some may have a great sense of business but couldn't write a scene to save their lives. Some can command a room while networking, but can't muster the courage to tell an actor what to do behind the camera. Some may know all about the intangibles that make a particular scene great but couldn't pass photography 101. Some may have a great understanding of Adobe Premiere or After Effects, but have no idea what the terms "f-stop", "depth of field" and "18% grey" mean. Not everyone knows everything (well, maybe Martin Scorsese or Roger Ebert does) – and everyone started out as an amateur.
The purpose for me getting this out in the open is two-fold: I want to express to those reading this that want to make movies but don't know the first thing about it to not fear the unknown – and not fear "not knowing". For some reason, everyone I've met in my life refuses to believe I have only a high school education. I attribute that to being a very astute bull-shitter, but I guess that also means that I have always had a desire to learn more about language, the human condition, economics, politics and philosophy and I've read and seen so much that I'm a walking Chauncey Gardener (points to those who get that reference.) Also, I've documented this so I have a reference point and a contract to myself to make sure I thoroughly follow through on my goal to receive some sort of post-secondary education so I can take the necessary steps to feel more confident in myself to put "Director" or "Screenwriter" on my resume – and know that I got PAID to do those things. This is my promise to myself that I will settle this once and for all.
What can I say? I love movies. Love them. Love them so much that I'm willing to part with an insane amount of cash to be sure that I know 100% what I'm doing while making AND promoting a movie. I love movies so much that I'm willing to write essays and theories about the rippling effects of film on human history – and I love movies so much that I'm willing to leave my current cushy day job if/when the opportunity presents itself so I can make that paper trail (TM, T.I.)
Wish me luck! I'm gonna need that and enough confidence to equal about a billion Texans.[/end rant]
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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!
El ángel exterminador: The Exterminating Angel (1962)
Mexico
Dir: Luis Buñuel
Runtime: 93 min
Silvia Pinal, one of Luis Buñuel's female muses, star of Viridiana and the virginal "Valkyrie" in El ángel exterminador - claims that his surrealist film of a group of Mexican bourgeoisie that are strangely unable to leave the piano room of their host's mansion is the precursor to reality television. It was a thought I never would have considered if I had not heard it for myself. She is 100% correct. What does this sound like: A group of participants engage in a situation where they are cut off from outside civilization and are unable to leave, leaving only their base desires, instincts and fears as a means to fend for themselves – all shot for the world to see. The only thing Buñuel didn't provide was tribal council and a million-dollar prize.
The Exterminating Angel was the famed Spanish filmmaker's return to Mexico after winning the Palme D'or at Cannes for his delightful (and devilish) film, Viridiana, and his re-exile from his native Spain. Luis Buñuel was given the keys to the film kingdom by Spanish dictator Francisco Franco and Buñuel basically gave him, the Catholic Church and the Spanish upper-class the proverbial middle finger with his dry, cynical take on charity. He was basically the "Stone Cold" Steve Austin of film: a man who hated institutional authority and the hypocrisy that was imposed from the European bourgeoisie, and Buñuel did everything he could to show the audience that little piece of enlightenment from Heath Ledger's Joker: "When it comes down to it, they'll eat each other".
There are nineteen guests returning to Señor Edmundo Nobile's (Enrique Rambal) and his wife, Lucia's (Lucy Gallardo) mansion after an opera. It seems like a perfectly normal evening, save for a few strange events – all the servants, save for the obsessively loyal head butler, Julio (Claudio Brook) are suddenly compelled to leave the premises for no reason. There is a bear and three sheep in the kitchen for "entertainment" - and the guests arrive twice. Literally. They are not aware of the repetition. In fact, there is a lot of repetition that they are not aware of. It is the lot of the European upper-class; they go to many parties, where many of the same guests (or same type of guests) attend, and introductions are made, and made again.
Dinner is served. One of the servants play a joke, planned by Lucia – to trip while presenting an appetizer. All guests but one find it amusing. They have a wonderful dinner, whisper slanders to each other about fellow guests and play audience to a quaint piano sonata. It is time to leave, and yet they meander, continuing to dabble in small-talk. Time passes. Nothing seems truly out of the ordinary. The guests loosen their gowns, remove their jackets and decide to settle down for the night. Some guests are excited over this spontaneity. Others are offended. It doesn't matter, though, as they all stay. This is one of the more simple and diabolical opening moments in film – similar in purpose to the wedding scene that begins Francis Ford Coppola's The Godfather: The environment and rules of the world are established, characters (and their vices) are introduced and then everything goes to hell. Well, at least Coppola wasn't so obvious about it. (Three mentions of Coppola…Hat Trick!)
Morning arrives. Julio is ordered to bring in some coffee and the leftover meat from the previous night's dinner. He explains that the milkman has not arrived – nothing earth-shattering but peculiar still. Some of the guests are right at the entrance-way of the room and seem about to step out until Julio re-appears with breakfast. They decide to stay and eat ("I suppose we could have one cup of coffee!") Julio is asked to get some spoons from the kitchen. He makes his way to the entrance and pauses to ask guests if they would like to be served. He is reprimanded for not following direct orders and is ordered to retrieve the spoons. He stops at the entrance-way, pauses, and slumps in a seat, dejected. It dawns on the guests that there is some force keeping them in the room and they are unable to leave.
As he does with his more successful films, Luis Buñuel plays The Exterminating Angel straight. Collaborating with cinematographer Gabriel Figueroa and his glorious black and white photography, there are no strange camera angles. No elongated or hyper extended points of view. No eerie or quirky musical score to indicate or clue the audience in on what is about to happen. Save for one scene regarding a severed hand that I'm sure made a young Sam Raimi sit up and take notice, there are no truly "bizzare" moments. Buñuel throws in subtle touches: The bear and sheep; a woman who carries feathers and bird claws in her purse; an incestuous brother and sister (where the brother is more sister and the sister is more brother.) At the start, no one *says* they are unable to leave – it is more unspoken, hidden underneath banal small-talk. This is the European bourgeoisie mentality: be polite, be civil, be proper – speak only when spoken to and speak only of culture, politics and art to sound intelligent – never tell anyone how you truly feel or risk being cast out as a commoner.
There is a sly form of attack that Buñuel needed to pull of – more out of budget restrictions than anything – if you watch the film, you would notice that despite the fact that the guests are of Mexican descent, their mannerisms, dress and posture are strangely British. Buñuel wanted the film to take place in London, but did not receive the box office from Viridiana needed to take the next step with a larger budget. He had to scrape the streets of Mexico City to find artwork to rent or purchase – and even that was a chore as many of the artists were unwilling to give up their work to him (which, now in hindsight is ridiculous.)
Buñuel was one of those filmmakers who carried a common theme with him in all his movies: Much like how Scorsese's main thread in his films is "Catholic Guilt" or Ozu was the "Generation Gap" or Charlie Kauffman focusing on the neurotic nature of the human mind, Buñuel loved to tackle the hypocrisy of human beings. Of course, he didn't attack it in a mean spirited way, but found an avenue in which he could perfectly relate, and therefore better share his message with the world: fetishism.
It is a well-documented fact that Buñuel had a love of feet. He explored this quirky desire to be around that particular body part and applied it to other facets of the human condition. Everyone has a secret that is too "taboo" for civilized tastes so they conceal it under manners and half-truths - only to be thrust into situations where they have no choice but to show it all for the world to see, thereby exposing their true selves. Two of the guests are young lovers engaged to someone else that is not at the party. They are always in one of the closets together when they sleep, trying to find time to be alone. Finally, in a great moment, they whisper their indiscretions and kiss like no one is around them…only for one of the guests to look on in half-hearted disgust.
The conditions deteriorate. An axe is used to break through a pipe so everyone can get water. Furniture is broken to make fire. The sheep find their way in…and we can guess what happens. It's startling to think what life could be like if this was possible. What if one of the guests die? What do you do with the body? With the smell? With the smell of other people who haven't bathed? How would you break? Who would you blame? These upper-class citizens were about three steps away from barbaric cannibalism – all because they were not allowed to leave a room.
When I first encountered The Exterminating Angel and heard of the plot, I thought to myself that this was a perverse take on 12 Angry Men, where the entire movie will take place within the confines of the cramped room – but Buñuel, ever the master of misdirection – had the audacity to show the outside world, too…Because the film would be simple if the residents and families of those on the outside could just walk up to the front door and let them out, right? Well, it's not that easy. Those on the outside cannot cross pass through the gateway. A boy with a balloon steps a few feet through, pauses and rushes back out. Police and spectators watch in awe as no one is able to find a way (or reason) to cross the threshold. Something's rotten in Denmark.
There have been many theories about the overall meaning of the film – everything from class warfare (they are unable to find the exit without the help showing them) to Masonic theories (one guest bellows the Masonic cry for help) have flooded essays, books and message boards. I'm sure every theory is valid and has merit, but I think The Exterminating Angel is one of those films where people who already have a particular political or social stance will see what they want to see out of it, and not so much the devices of the director's vision. Buñuel was at best (or at worst, depending on your point of view) an anarchist. He did not give actors Stanislavsky-like direction (the most he would do is say, "walk there, or use this tone") and would instruct actors and crew to be as vague as possible with the press in describing his films. There was a method in his madness, but audiences (and his own crew) were caught up trying to describe the method as madness, and not describe the madness as the method itself.
There is a particular scene where the women go to…something like the bathroom and they each walk out describing visions. One speaks of seeing an eagle flying below them. This scene makes no sense other than the fact that it could be interpreted as one of the many moments that display cabin fever and madness. The truth of the matter is, when Buñuel was younger, he would go on hikes and would relieve himself at a certain spot, where – you guessed it – he saw an eagle. One of the best theories I've read about this film, and the one that I agree with most – is that this is Buñuel's version of Chuck Jones' famous short cartoon Duck Amuck where Daffy is caught up in the whims and perverse sense of humor of his own animator. Buñuel just damned his characters further by not letting them in on the joke. At least Daffy knew he was in a cartoon and someone was screwing with him. These poor socialites are so wrapped up in their self-contained lifestyle that they aren't aware of the camera right in front of them and the audience pointing and laughing.
When I earlier explored arguably Buñuel's most successful film, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, I considered it a reverse take on The Exterminating Angel. I think Luis Buñuel knew he was onto something in 1962 and wanted to explore it further by taking it to an even more basic level: instead of not being able to leave someplace, what would it be like if you could never eat? Roger Ebert theorizes that an upper-class dinner party is one of the easiest ways to escape taboo subjects because "there is something to do (eat) and something to talk about (the food.)" Of course, in our day and age, a dinner party usually is littered with a few characters (I would be one of them) that is willing to say the most insane things to take the edge off everyone else. There is no need for a façade. There are no severed hands crawling around on the floor, either (Buñuel did love severed hands, feet and ants – for some strange reason.) .
Luis Buñuel (1900-1983) is an inspiration to me – not just as an artistic muse, but his story of how he rose to prominence is something that resonates. This is a man who blasted out of the gate with two great films (Un Chien Andalou [1928] and L'Age D'Or [1930]) and refused to compromise with anyone. Even he and BFF Salvidor Dali came to blows and never reconciled. Buñuel never changed his outlook and never changed his point of view or style for anyone, making inspired films in Mexico in his 40's and 50's (Los Olvidados [1950], The Criminal Life of Archibaldo de la Cruz, [1955]) even though they were more quietly accepted among film critics than anything else.
Buñuel really hit his stride in his 60's, crafting Viridiana, then The Exterminating Angel. He then went on something of an unprecedented streak of making classic films, Diary of a Chambermaid (1964), Belle De Jour (1967), Tristana (1970), The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972) – for which he was awarded the best foreign-language film Oscar - Then his free-flowing The Phantom of Liberty (1974), with its diabolical scene where guests defecate in public and eat in private – and finally That Obscure Object of Desire (1977), where Buñuel had the main female part played interchangeably by two different actresses – for no rhyme nor reason. He was David Lynch before Eraserhead, Jorodowsky before El Topo and Paul Thomas Anderson before Magnolia. Any filmmaker that carries absurd, quirky and generally screwed up scenarios on screen, from Kauffman to Michel Gondry to Gaspar Noe to David Cronenburg owe a great debt to Buñuel.
I've mentioned many of Luis Buñuel's works, but am concluding my retrospective here. That does not mean I am not going to indulge in more of his films (I realize I have not given props to L'Age D'or), but that is just a testament to the insane body of work he has left behind. I haven't even discussed Simon of the Desert. Luis Buñuel is just one of those filmmakers who deserve many retrospectives, as often as possible – because without him and his cheerfully cynical outlook on the human condition, how else would we be able to notice – and openly discuss, our flaws, imperfections and animalistic nature…and laugh at it?
A scene from The Exterminating Angel
{Film Passport Stamped]
Coming Attractions: Part 1 of a retrospective of the most Japanese of Japanese directors and arguably the single greatest shot composer of all time. This will be a little story. A little story that takes place in Tokyo.
Questions or comments? Email me at aa24frames@aol.com!!!
