Fever Rises in El Pao / Republic of Sin (1959) - Luis Buñuel

Buñuel continues with his cinematographic work, the time for leaving Mexican lands was approaching more and more, and in this opportunity generates a work of mixed origins and characteristics, a European and American coproduction. As the filmmaker often did, it is based on a literary work to convey a story, this time it was Henri Castillou the author, in a story that the filmmaker accepts not having done with the greatest enthusiasm, but of course without ever losing the proper professionalism in his office. The adapted novel portrays a story strongly tinged with politics, in a fictitious land of Caribbean areas, an island that serves as a penitentiary, where a despotic political leader has the inhabitants so jaded, that a subaltern of his eliminates him, and who takes the witness in the position, corrupt and ambitious, must face an idealistic individual who will fall in love with the woman of the deceased leader; this subject must face a system and circumstances that will end up breaking his strength, and put aside his happiness. A work that, as traditionally called the Mexican films of the author, is alimentary, and rarely it is noticed so much in a Buñuel film, but as has been said in previous articles, it is as if the filmmaker sensed that repatriation was approaching, he already collaborates with the Europeans.

                   

After a brief visual prologue of a town, a voice places us in an indeterminate place, a prison island, Ojeda, with its capital El Pao. There lives the beautiful Inés Rojas (María Félix), wife of the governor, Mariano Vargas (M.A. Soler), whose servant, Ramón Vázquez (Gérard Philipe), admires and loves her in silence. Vargas knows about her adulteries, but soon in a public act, Vargas is eliminated, there is a great stir. The substitute of the governor is Alejandro Gual (Jean Servais), begins to make way in his political power, despotically exploits inmates, while Vázquez and Inés are consuming and reinforcing their love. Gual meets with Ines, confesses secret love, she rejects him, and he reveals that he knows about their affairs. They find the assassin of Vargas, and Gual, jealous, threatens Inés with liquidating Vázquez if she does not agrees to an idyll. The love affair doesn't concrete, they want to get rid of Gual, they allow a riot, in which the island is besieged; Inés seduces Gual, who is removed from power. Vázquez's conscience weighs him for what it cost to overthrow Gual, the new authorities of Ojeda ask him to convince Inés to declare herself a collaborator of the ending regime; he refuses. Inés does not want that either, she decides to flee to Mexico, she tries, but the island is very controlled, she is killed when she tries to escape. Vázquez finally remains alone, hesitant.










Once again, opens his film Buñuel with an audiovisual introduction to the land where everything will be represented, a nearby painting that is made with soft travellings that move with moderation around the fictional Ojeda, and its capital El Pao, overflowing with prisoners, replacing the usual Folklore of other filmic beginnings by the Spanish. The voice narrator makes clear to us immediately the airtightness of the site, there is no easy access, if someone enters that penitentiary it can be taken for granted that that person will not leave alive, the cemetery is shown immediately, because that is the only way out of that site, and as already in previous opportunities the filmmaker did, situates his story in a place and time not determined, skillfully empowering that history can be framed, relatively speaking, in any place and time, it is about the situation, what is portrayed, where the force of everything portrayed rests. The film will be quite linear, flat film, that linearity is not broken, the absence of surrealism is something that more than one palate lover of Buñuelian cinema will confuse. Effectively, this one is among the films that less contain the filmmaker's imprint, so that if someone saw the film without knowing which director it is, he or she would hardly identify the film as the work of its author, he will soon even show one of his always avoided images, a kiss, something that he will must repeatedly do; certainly an atypical work in the director. Even the behavior of the camera has to be measured, coupled, adapting to the type of visual narration that we witness, everything is harmonized with that flat and linear film, without breaking schemes. The unusual musical accompaniment is something that also contributes to the bizarre tonality in general that the film has. The filmmaker tells us in his memoirs that, nevertheless, he tried to insuflate life into the scenes that he considered needed to be enhanced, a difficult task. In this way, after a third of the film has already passed, after thirty minutes, there are very few identifiable cornerstones of Talanda's genius, one of the director's less identifiable films is seen, less bearers of his more traditional artistic edges.

Arrived at the knot, at the equator of the film, we continue with that dynamic, the linear picture that continues to rest on the words, the dialogues, until becoming somewhat tedious, a lack of actions, a lack of passions that makes sterile their characters, just in the middle of the film is weaving some tension, some intrigue. In that sense, it is one of the most testimonial films by Buñuel, rarely, or perhaps never, were so absent his powerful figures, the powerful symbolisms, few times the dialogues, the words, were so preponderant, so central in the film, it feels as if the talent of the director was diluted under so many constraints. Even words in the filmic epilogue were used to externalize the final drama of Vázquez. What before did without words Buñuel, here has to translate it into a voice-over monologue, and tells us about the final internal break of Vázquez. It is a film whose multiple sources of production finally damaged it, we get to perceive the multiplicity of the origins of the film, in which we have a gibberish of up to 6 writers collaborating, with sequences that apparently were shot some in France, others in Mexico; all that multicolored collection of origins makes the film is noticed therefore uneven, very little akin to the style of the Iberian director, and helps to understand the little enthusiasm with which the director refers to this work. Indeed, to a certain extent, Buñuel's disinterest -by him himself recognized by the way- is evident in the production of the film, it is noted that it is a job, as the films members of this stage of the director are called, alimentary films, made in order to survive, because in that moment of his life, Buñuel suffered some economic hardships, "at that time I took everything they offered", he says. It is understood that the director has so little to say about this work, but the filmmaker, of course, never stopped working with professionalism, the office comes first, and he struggled to give life to a film from different angles sterile. Their characters are felt unexplored, not unraveled, does not delve into them, to understand them better, their procedures do not feel justified in their pasts, actions or passions, something he did know to do in so many other previous films of his; the shallow treatment, it is known, was not Buñuel's entire responsibility, with the avatars of the production, but it is definitely detrimental to the final shape of the film.












However, not all the spirit of Buñuel could be absent, and apart of the strong political affiliation, we have the ever present erotic element in the film, albeit in dribs and drabs, present in the figure of Agnes, Agnes and her naked and contoured back, that the filmmaker shows us in close shots, his bare legs, in brief moments of warm eroticism that at times remind us who is behind the cameras. In spite of everything, some sequences have a remarkable beauty and visual power, they are exceptions, like the sequence in which Ines seduces Gual, all the visual power of Buñuel is expressed in that darkness, in that composition so refined of its frames, strong chiaroscuros that are spread in the harmonious distribution of his frames. It is almost as if the filmmaker, being handcuffed in other ways, had taken refuge in the elaboration of his frames, in a theatrical halo that seems to warmly structure some sequences, it is probably the efforts to which Buñuel referred to trying to get float the picture. Be that as it may, Buñuel's protagonist is now an idealist, from the beginning Ines defines him that way, he does not get corrupted, and that incorruptibility will be his final sentence. He prefers his duty, the homeland to his happiness, he is the typical Buñuelian ambivalent character, who is torn between indecision, is an element of the regime that disapproves, but incapable of harming his comrades, or, once the damage is done, incapable of get rid of the guilt; the film is therefore a constant conflict between both parties of Vázquez. It is like a sort of continuation of Nazarin and his dilemma, his firm convictions, his principles seem unbreakable, but he doubts, he is not happy about his success in getting rid of Gual, he has charge of conscience for the lives sacrificed for his purposes. In the ending sequence, we have his final negative to obey an order from his superior, a similar epiphany takes place to that of Nazarin, but to a lesser extent, he has also broken with his surroundings. A film in which death and freedom go together, love and politics in the same way, violence, death, injustice, oppression, a severe political despotism, intrigues, political tricks, the most political film of Spanish without doubt, perhaps not without reason is it said that it is one of the less Buñuel films there are; but completes, among That is the Dawn (1956) and Death in the Garden (1956), what some call his "political" or "revolutionary" triptych, in which he confronts the oppressors, in this case Gual, an interesting character smoothly sublimated with his care for birds. There is also Ines, with her strange complacency with which she gives herself to Gual, leaves a little to think about, but this makes sense when it is known that everything is a ruse with Vázquez, she belongs to the system, she is the love, the redemption for Vazquez, but not even for her will be able to break his principles, sterile principles that in the end, when he breaks that sheet of orders, reach a disjunctive of powerful climax, something has changed in him forever, as in the priest Nazario. Buñuel affirms that he wanted in the end to approach the outcome of the opera Tosca, with tragic endings for everyone, but, once again, this is drowned in the resulting hybrid of the film. A movie quite atypical in the filmmaker, from which does not keep the best memories, an alimentary film in almost all its aspects, but always necessary for the studious of the work of the Spanish genius.

Nazarín (1959) - Luis Buñuel

Having Buñuel approached warmly to his return to work with European producers first with Death in the Garden (1956) and then with That is the Dawn (1956), would approach the Spanish to this work in which he outlined one of the figures that in next films will be repeated, that of a religious man of singular adventures. The genius of Talanda in this opportunity will adapt a not very well-known work of one of his major literary influences, the great countryman of his Benito Pérez Galdós, who tells us a story that certainly is not surprising that had powerfully seduced the Iberian director, the story of a a priest of very firm faith, apparently unbreakable principles that will be put to great test when the religious applies with the greatest discipline those principles, when he puts them into practice only to obtain rejection, violence even, in those to whom he tries to profess his faith. Naturally, the original work undergoes some modifications by the director, adapting certain details to the reality and Mexican contexts. The film had two-faces results, some repudiation and accusations of anti religion, but in turn recognitions at the Festival de Cannes, in a work fully identifiable as the work of this great great filmmaker, carrier of many of his most identifying stamps, increasingly developed.

                 

The action begins in a humble Mexican town, a house in which its tenants, many of them prostitutes, live between austerity. There lives also Father Nazario (Francisco Rabal), who suffers a robbery, and who lives particularly in misery, as well as Beatriz (Marga López), a woman who thinks about killing herself, and suffers for her past with Pinto (Noé Murayama); he abandons her. Shortly after, Andara (Rita Macedo), one of the prostitutes, has a discussion with another woman of that ilk, they fight, the police look for her, and Nazario hides her in his house. Andara, wanted, has to flee, burns evidence of his presence, too many problems for Father Nazario, who is almost expelled from his order, leaves town, claims willl live on alms. Nazario leaves, arrives at a construction, where he asks to work in exchange only for food, but is chased away by the other workers; then he meets with Beatriz, in another town, helps with the seemingly miraculous recovery of an ill girl. In another location, and again with Andara, she meets Ujo (Jesús Fernández), a dwarf who courts her, while the Pinto also reappears, wants to take Beatriz. But finally they can not escape from the police, who follow them and find them, arrest Andara, separate her from Ujo, Nazario is also arrested, and Beatriz ends up leaving with Pinto.

In this film the director, according to his own words, in his book My Last Sigh, preferring even the trivial to the aesthetically very elaborate, wanted to give us a truer, closer approach, something denoted in that curious beginning of the film, with that stamp that literally almost "jumps" to life, its protagonists almost come alive to give us an idea of ​​proximity to the folklore of the land that is going to be portrayed. And that was certainly the idea of ​​the filmmaker, to dispense with excessive ornaments, the camera with subtle movements shows us the environment where everything will happen in that initial sequence, with measured glides of the camera, soft travellings for this. This is how we approach the world of Father Nazario, "I am Catholic, Apostolic and Roman", defines himself, as starting from the innermost fiber of Christianity, in those three ranks, with Rome as a great reference, living in austerity, enduring some mockery, among which, initially, he is told that with his lifestyle he loses his dignity. And in fact, he lives among poor people, in precarious places, with marginal beings, vulgar prostitutes, thieves, disputes, people of low ilk, this priest who comes to be a continuation of Death in the Garden (1956)'s Father Lizardi, with the so referential theme of religion, always present in the work of Spanish, and always, of course, under his scathing and acid look. Nazario is a priest who professes Catholicism with a fullness that will make it unacceptable for human canons, for daily and pragmatic existence; his attitude is submissive, of surrender, resignation to his destiny as a servant of Catholicism, while the epiphany occurs, while his idea of ​​Catholicism is divided, of what is Christianity in the praxis of men, in the daily reality. It is fascinating his dilemma, driven by circumstances, completely breaks with all known religious convention, even stripped of his clothes, because the world must stop recognizing him as a man of God. Since then, a real change is gestating, he will find himself alien to wherever he goes, he will be an outsider, without a place, perfectly exemplified when he comes to the construction, he looks for work, even in exchange for food alone. The consequences are dire, the workers, threatened, throw him out, he who wanted to work without profit, just to survive, without causing harm, ends up awakening envy, greed, violence; eloquent the shots that are heard while he moves away.

It is as if his very existence carries negative things, his willingness to help his neighbor, genuine, ends paradoxically enraging the neighbor, who seems not ready for this, for such a pure Christianity; the paradox, the irony, are thus served. Nazario affirms that he is on a journey of pilgrimage, a trip that will end by shattering his faith, a quixotic journey that will lead him to live on alms, not to stop practicing the gospel, but splitting from reality, from a Catholicism that does not correspond to his conception of faith, to his praxis. Naturally, his trip has its particular differences, as the Quixote, his madness, his behavior, will cause problems, is his downfall, and can not get away from it, but unlike the classic by Cervantes, while Nazario imparts his concept of faith, his journey is different from that of Don Quixote, since he is not a character who wanders between sanity and insanity. This is a man of faith, a completely sane religious who makes a voyage of astonishing discovery, in which his values ​​and beliefs will be broken, he does not die as the self-proclaimed knight, not physically, but a part of him seems to have died, a death spiritual that is being announced -"for the first time in my life, I find it hard to forgive", he professes, his faith is breaking down-. In the end, after everything experienced, everything traveled, hesitate to receive the alms, what preached, finally cry, we have the uncertainty, what will this cracked subject do now, because after the initial rejection, then accepts the pineapple, sobs, is the final break of his beliefs, proclaiming and living on alms, rejects first, doubt, receives it, is symbolic that final action. Something of Bergmanian is in his religious doubts, in that skepticism that ends up hovering over him; if in Bergman the characters speak to God, and silence as a response is what upsets them, in Buñuel despair is more a bitter awakening, a bubble of vital, divine, existential conceptions that burst. Yes, the rupture is consummated, he walks without definite direction, neither physical nor spiritual, while the drum roll sounds, the only musical accompaniment, that Buñuel had to add for commitment with the producer. A Christian parallel is drawn in him, he is humiliated, taken almost to the extreme of Christ, but he is not divine, he will not endure like Jesus, but he will yield, he will break, and he will remain in uncertainty, and he is effectively portrayed in parallel to Jesus, they see him barefoot, with a cane, with women who seem to act as his apostles, he is even asked to perform miracles. They also believe him a healer, it is one of the many reactions of humans to interact with the priest who practices Catholicism, whom they call a heretic, a bizarre preacher, he is in fact an individual who undergoes quixotization, but this time they are not cavalry books, now it is the gospel. We have, ending the film, the sacrilegious of the jail, his final contact with humans before epiphany, affirming this one, "good ones over there, bad ones over here", it is almost the final interaction with that society and conventionalism that he escapes from.

Interesting and significant moments are, as when Andara begins to question Nazario, simple questions, simple questions of apparently obvious answers, in that symbolic simplicity, the priest is already facing the first questions, but his faith is still intact, he is just coming out to the environment that will fall apart. It is a detail of the filmmaker the fact that when Nazario is ready to answer the questions of Andara, his voice gradually fades. But there is more, the characters of Nazarin are sordid, Beatrice's conduct is certainly strange, disturbing is his bipolar behavior, after first seemingly suffering from the departure of the Pinto, he laughs with a jaw swing, and then have bizarre fantasies with him, having then disturbing torsions. She is horrified when she is made to see that deep down, she does not want spiritual relief or pilgrimage, she only wants carnal love, and revelation makes her explode in shame and laughter, and that's for both women seek the love of the man. Beatriz, in the end, in her strange nature, rests her head on Pinto's shoulder, bizarre masochism, can not escape from her own hell, and that is because in the end, there is no return, as Nazario had a quixotic journey, all the tormented characters end up worse than they started. Great moments of surrealism leaves Buñuel to flow in his film, one of them being the "deformation" of the frames, of the image, to enter into the psyche of Beatriz, who longs for the Pìnto, who wishes to possess him, to deprive him of his will, she wants to own a man. Her desire is intensely carnal, what apparently is her undoing, the Pinto, is what she most yearns to possess, but to possess in an absolute way, to take away his will, she soothes herself in a disturbing way, her nature is certainly ambivalent. Much surrealism is fully present and evident in the film, this having one of its most acute moments in the image of the laughing Christ, delirious tints are reached when Andara begins his flight. Another of the figures, Andara, after deciding to flee, burns all the evidence of his presence and direction, with a saint in front of everything, leading the incineration. Critics have found over the years diverse and indecipherable figures in the film, which is responsible for having fun and split Buñuel, asserting that he is as intrigued as the public; a good example of this is the pineapple of the final sequence. Technically, interesting visual resources employs the director, using images as elements of transition to move from one sequence to another, correct resource. Likewise, we observed in the film a dark tone, courtesy of the refined photography of the master Gabriel Figueroa, with whom it is known that Buñuel had small discrepancy when correcting some excessively precious frame, because Buñuel preferred closeness and simplicity instead of gratuitous ornament. In spite of it, Figueroa manages to produce the dark surroundings, the shady frames in which the confused and tormented characters play. Exemplary is the sequence when both women profess their love for the priest, and symbolically, he is unable to offer true shelter and response, plays with a tiny snail. The composition of the frames, the behavior of the camera and the shots used in this pleasant sequence are exemplary, aesthetically and visually of the most accomplished in the film by the director. In the same way, the love figure embodied by Buñuel is singular, something unprecedented in his filmography, the brief couple, the dwarf Ujo and a prostitute, the most marginal love, and probably the most beautiful love he portrayed, where all the differences, included obviously the physics, are drawn. At the end we see the dwarf, defeated, alone, looking down, while the police drive away his beloved prostitute, the most heartbreaking Buñuelian love. Another of Buñuel's winks, the feet, manifests when the mother of a girl dies in one of the precarious villages, and the camera shows her swollen limbs. A film of the most referential by Buñuel, carries his artistic DNA, his obsessions, his doubts, his discoveries, and, in short, continues his evolution as an artist; indispensable work for the follower of the buñuelian oeuvre.