Luis Bunuel was specifically brought in to Mexico to be a commercial director, and ultimately was, working mainly in melodrama, yet always including a personalized surreal touch that he had perfected. To quote the Swedish mater Ingmar Bergman, "Bunuel always made Bunuel films." Bunuel's style always surfaced in one way or another, be it in dream sequences, themes, or certain images. Bunuel made the bulk of his filmography in Mexico, from La Grand Casino to Simon of the Desert.
This is the area where Bunuel receives his distinction of under appreciated and often forgotten, at least in America. Many of these films are completely unavailable in America on DVD, or at least very, very, rare. I admittedly have not even seen the bulk of them since they are just unavailable. Terrible Mexican video companies own the rights to many of the films, and utterly refuse to sell them or even release them on DVD. The subtitles often have typos, and the image is a true travesty.
Bunuel's earliest film of the period that garnered serious attention was Los Olvidados, a Bunuel-take on the neo-realist movement that was capturing world cinema. Bunuel takes his camera to the streets, using non-actors and real settings to show the plight of youths forgotten by society. Bunuel's major touch comes in the form of a dream sequence, with slow-motion feathers floating to the ground, a la Vigo's Zero du Conduit and a bloodied dead boy laughing on the ground. The sequence is truly stunning, and hides the otherwise bleak nature of the film for just a moment. Bunuel is brutal and relentless in his portrayal of poverty.
Another major film for the period is El, returning to literally examine the theme of sexual repression and obsession, showing a man who loves the very idea of a woman so much he is willing to do anything to hold onto her. The film is stacked with Bunuel's religious iconography and carries serious criticism for the Catholic church, where a priest not only refuses to help the tortured heroine, but actually rats her out to her husband. This is an early direct example of Bunuel's treatment of religious hypocrisy, which was later visited time and time again.
Again, I must lament the fact that so many of these films are unavailable, including Ensayo de un Crimen, Susana, Subida Au Cielo, and Wuthering Heights. It represents a huge blind spot in our consciousness of a great filmmaker who overcame producers to stay true to his vision. I dream that one day a company like Criterion will pick up these titles and finally do them justice.
Bunuel's most acclaimed film of the period is Nazarin, a film that is thematically similar to his well-known follow-up. Nazarin follows Father Nazzario, an idealistic and certainly good Catholic priest who risks his reputation for a prostitute and constantly battles the church. The story is a critique of the cold church and of idealism and general, yet it also parodies the story of Christ. Nazario is often mistaken as a "second coming" type figure. Two of the prostitutes follow the man to the world's end, even though he urges them against it, saying he is just a humble man. Nazario arrives at a village where a young girl is sick. The villagers urge him to perform a miracle, which he refuses, but he does pray for the girl. The next morning, the woman praise the priest, but he insists God intervened. However, Nazario is silent when the group stumbles upon a massive disaster, and is unable to help anyone, even unable to hear a woman's confession as she is fixated only on seeing her lover. The film's final image is incredibly powerful, involving intense despair and a pineapple. Although I covered what seems like a good amount, much more is in store in the film and do not wish to spoil.
The follow-up was made not in Mexico, but was instead Bunuel's return to Spain. I don't mean to exaggerate, but Viridana may be my all-time favorite film, and is, in my opinion, cinematic perfection. The story is mainly a critique of idealism, but dives in against organized religion, obsession, lust, chastity, poverty, and sensitivity. It's a truly deep and spellbinding work that follows a cold young nun as she visits her uncle. Perhaps that may not sound thrilling, but I urge anyone to watch it. I do not wish to give away a single detail of the plot explicitly. The film's message is best seen in an odd image Bunuel presents to us- a character sees a dog tied to the bottom of a cart. The character is shocked, as if the tired Dog stops moving, it will be strangled. The character attempts to convince the owner to let the dog in the cart, and when the owner refuses, the character outright buys the dog, much like what our heroine Viridiana does with the beggars. However, as out character walks away with the dog, another cart passes, which has another dog walking under it, tied to the axle. It's a hugely powerful and slightly abstract image that perfectly captures the film.
Bunuel's next film, The Exterminating Angel, made again in Mexico but attempting to look like France, offers another abstract analogy, this time taking on the ruling class directly. A dinner party, for unknown reasons, cannot leave a room. In such a simple, absurd concept, Bunuel shows us his opinion of the human lab rats that make up the upper class, stuck in the regime of parties and excess. AT the film's end, the priest and church goers in a Catholic cathedral suffer the same fate.
This period of Bunuel's career is characterized with his most accessible and straight-forward films, as they were made with the intention of profitability first and foremost. Bunuel's later career is defined by him attempting to unlearn the narrative trick of this period, creating more challenging and difficult films.
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