Saturday, January 27, 2007

Film Review (Int'l): Viridiana (1961)

[Spoiler alert: almost all of the plot is described below]

I oft receive an indifferent shrug during discussions that attempt to enunciate the role of art in shaping history. Bunuel's Viridiana is his liberation (with my limited knowledge, to-date, of his extensive legacy), of his art challenging morality & society, if not history itself, shaking it up and replenishing it with a few missing dimensions to the debate. I personally love Bunuel, simply for his primary objective, which is to trash every societal norm, perhaps even before questioning it.

[RANDOM THOUGHT & INSERT: I admire the Criterion model of creating DVD's - they are created for Collections. One could always read a film's history, its ups and downs and extras. But since it's a film that we're enjoying, its doubly more memorable to experience the nuances around a film, in a moving picture format itself. And then to digitally enhance the film and present all the embellishments of a Director interview, old footage, short docs (at times), trailers etc. make the experience of a great film come close to, dare I say, that of a great book. (I do think, though, that almost all the old trailers are terribly inexpressive though - that art evolved much later, with the music video generation). After all, these humble scribblings are about the experience of watching a great film, rather than writing about a great film.

I must add that a dream project would be to replicate anything close to what the Criterion Collection has done for almost 400 all-time classics already. Perhaps we can start with Ray, Ghatak, Mani Kaul, Adoor, Benegal, Nihalini, some Mani Ratnams et al]

What begins as a 90 min film lingers and seeps into a three hour sojourn, a Criterion-facilitated experience, that gives much to ruminate about. In the case of the Viridiana DVD, there are two wonderful interviews with Bunuel - one made for French TV and the other as a print insert of the DVD - and some insights from the lead actress - Silvia Pinal. And of course, a digital revival that no prior generation benefited from until now. The history surrounding the film is so intriguing that the film is but a sub-plot.

Bunuel was still in self-imposed exile in Mexico, opposed to Franco's regime in Spain. Bunuel made several films during this period, gaining very little exposure in the international arena. Silvia Pinal, a Mexican actress, was very keen to work with Bunuel but between finding a suitable role and the required funds, nothing materialized. Until Pinal convinced her husband to produce the film. Bunuel accepted and the film was to be shot in Spain. That was controversial for Spain and for Bunuel. For Franco, it amounted to letting in someone who denounced his regime and policies. Franco's popularity was on the decline and he viewed this proposal as a means of reconciliation, one that would muster positive public opinion. Bunuel's friends and admirers thought he had succumbed to the lures of personal grandeur and criticized him heavily for this idea. And so, the idea of shooting Viridiana in Spain was conceived. No one but Bunuel knew what he was dreaming up then.

Bunuel embraced surrealism (witness a colorful history with Dali, that ended with L'Age d'Or - will keep that juicy story for some other time) and communism with equal vigor and Viridiana is incomplete without both of its influences.

He begins the story with a girl training to be a nun - Viridiana. The uncle, who lost his wife on their wedding night, wants her niece - the same Viridiana - to visit him once before she takes her final vows. She obliges, given his past generosity, and the uncle is taken in by her beauty and her resemblance to her aunt - his wife. The uncle plots to force her to marry him which she vehemently opposes but grants him one last favor - to come dressed for dinner in her aunt's wedding dress. He deviously plans to drug her and rape her so that she can't leave. He leaves the plan incomplete but lies to her about having raped her. She is aghast, cries foul and yet decides to leave, convinced that she's impure now. His repentance falls on deaf ears and his truth is not believed. While she leaves, he smiles, plays his favorite notes on the piano, bequeaths his property to an illegitimate son and her and hangs himself with a skipping rope. He has yet succeeded in bringing her back to his home now.

All the while, we are led into this uncle's fetish for young feminine legs that includes the innocent child of the servant. The child's presence is further used to facilitate intrusions into accepted norms of morality - her curiosity leads her to the scene of the attempted rape and the little girl insists on skipping with the rope after the master has used it for his noose, oblivious of a need to respect his tool of suicide.

Viridiana returns, the son is delighted on his unexpected claim to this vast property, and sets his sights on Viridiana. She continues to experiment with redemption and is convinced that bringing the homeless and handicapped into the estate and giving them food and shelter for work would uplift their lives and hers. She gathers a motley set of beggars and the painful process of rehabilitation begins. What she doesn't realize is that even the beggars have hierarchies, desires and egos and these are more volatile and baser instincts than their need for roti, kapada aur makaan (food, clothes and shelter). The son, Jorge, meanwhile detests her methods and wants to enrich himself, both with Viridiana's company and by farming the expanses of the estate grounds. At this juncture, the film shifts about 3 gears up on the idea of surrealism and commenting on morality.

~ In that era of Spain, dogs were tied to carts and had to run along. If they stopped, they are strangled. This is shown in the film and almost seems inconceivable that its widespread. Reality...Surreal! When Jorge, who abhors the beggars, sees such a mutt's predicament, his compassion allows him to buy the dog off the owner. He barely completes the transaction and turns away when the next cart, with the next dog tied to it, shuttles past. This scene is a caricature of the moral stands attempted by Viridiana and Jorge.

~ The perpetually squabbling beggars are left in charge of a locked home as everyone inside leaves for an overnight trip to the city. Barely do they leave and two women have broken in through a window and are tempting the others in for a sneak walk through of the home and its lavish trappings. Admiration leads to more temptation - of a banquet, of dance, of music, of revelry with silver and fine crockery, of wine. Bunuel's artistic license allows him inclusion of beggars who don't exist and expands the scene to 13 of them, posing for a picture. The photographer lifts her skirt -a mock snapshot of the gathering of the beggars, all 13 of them aptly replicating Da Vinci's Last Supper. (Whoa!! The allusion to the event and the calculated vulgarity - Trouble? - No...the censors didn't mind)

~ The party devolves into mayhem, the masters of the house and their servant arrive the same night, earlier than expected, and the beggars begin to disperse frantically. Two of them try to take advantage of the situation and after tying down Jorge, attempt to rape Viridiana. The servant's run for help to the police and their return are a while away. So, Jorge pays the accomplice to kill the purported rapist, which he does. (Some of these beggars were picked up from the streets and are far from professional actors. Yet, there is little to give them away. The one who kills - a leper in the film - is a mentally unsound character in reality. Bunuel's boundaries between his two worlds are bizarre.)

THE FINALE

~ TAKE 1: Viridiana is dejected at her absolute failure at repentance. Jorge has already taken advantage of the single-mother servant. She admires this new young handsome master and is unperturbed by it. He is in his room, suggestively asking her to join him for a game of cards. A knock on the door. The servant turns, leaves the room. Its Viridiana, hair let down, in ample surrender to her suitor.

THE END - No! It didn't end this way. It was decided that the censors can't pass this - she sought redemption and instead, this woman seeking God is overtly submitting to the flesh - unadulterated blasphemy! Let's do a second take, they said. She can't be alone with him, they said.

~ TAKE 2: Viridiana is dejected at her absolute failure at repentance. Jorge has already taken advantage of the single-mother servant. She admires this new young handsome master and is unperturbed by it. He is in his room, suggestively asking her to join him for a game of cards. A knock on the door. The servant turns to leave. He asks her to stay. Its Viridiana, hair let down, in ample surrender to her suitor. She suddenly sees the servant - she was unprepared to admit her surrender to another. She recovers. He brings her to the card table. Asks the servant to join in and a simple dialogue ensues. History has judged that the dialogue implied a 'menage a trois'. Bunuel has never said so. The censors passed it.

The film was entered into Cannes at the last minute and was slotted for an inconsequential screening on the last evening. The winner was decided before its screening until Viridiana changed their minds - the two films shared the Golden Palm.

The magazine of the Vatican had a rep at Cannes and he found the film to be an outrageous blasphemy (is there another kind?). The Pope was furious and the chain of dismay reached the more conservative friars in Spain who protested to Franco. Franco himself wasn't believed to be too offended but to appease his religious quarters, the film found itself banned - all of this was within two weeks of Cannes. Every copy in Spain was destroyed....and so, it was believed; while some French dubbed masters were saved and shipped to Mexico. The banned film then found itself in the most unique situation of not having a nationality and therefore becoming impossible to ship to other countries since import laws mandated an origin. The efforts of the group headed by Silvia's husband finally enlisted it as Mexican. The ban was lifted in Spain only in 1977 by when Viridiana had already been seen worldwide to whispers of genuine admiration for the Bunuelesque. His critics and friends, who decried his acceptance of Franco's invitation, applauded all along. Viridiana revived the world's interest in Luis Bunuel, one that begin with Un Chin Andalou in 1929.

Bunuel was an enigma, a genius that no one could ever claim to fully conquer, in the understanding of him or his films. In the French TV episode that interviews Bunuel (and some friends who knew him more than others), one of Bunuel's friend uses an anecdote that is remarkably apt in characterizing his film-making. Bunuel was a self-proclaimed gun fanatic. He had over 80 (by the 60's) and he even cast his own bullets! He made them all - for each caliber of gun he possessed!! His son related a story that Bunuel wished to make a bullet with a charge so light that it flew just far enough to touch the jacket of its victim and harmlessly slide down to the ground. He then experimented with his creation. He used a target of wood and a whole block of phone directories lined up against a wall and let fire his gun. The bullet pierced the target, all of the directories, the wall and landed in the neighbour's. This, Bunuel's friend says, is akin to how he makes his films: Bunuel will tell you that 'I put in very little into it' and before you know it, it explodes beyond all conceivable proportions...c'est Viridiana.

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