Raising Ravens--Discovering Spanish Cinema

Power to Pedro Almodovar, but he's such the cinematic rock star that his fame gets in the way of the great tradition of Spanish Cinema. Sidestepping the absolute genius that was Luis Bunuel* we make an unpardonable leap on to Ana Torrent, the childhood star of what's often called The New Spanish Cinema. Spain fell in love with her adorable little face--the face that always seemed to be both way beyond its years and to distill all the sadness of childhood in one glance. The history of Spanish cinema seems to always award Victor Erice's El Espiritu de la Colmena (The Spirit of the Beehive, 1973) the recognition of jump-starting Spanish cinema and bringing it out into the art-film spotlight.

It's a beautiful film that takes place during the Spanish Civil War in an isolated village on the dry, vast plains of Spain. The film Frankenstein is brought and shown to the village and leaves a deep impression on the shy six-year old Ana. Her sister takes Ana deeper into her imagination, telling her that Frankenstein is a spirit that can be found if she summons him. The film is a meditative, unsentimental view into the world of childhood. Ana's parents are distanced from each other--the father spends most of his time studying bees and the mother daydreams about a far-off lover who she writes letters to. Ana and her sister's imaginative play seems to be the way they cope with the strained family drama at home.

Steeped in symbolism, enigmatic, deliberately slow and a possible allegory for Franco's regime (aren't most important Spanish films during the regime?) the film is unfortunately too artsy for its own sake. It's mysterious simplicity, that pondorous stiffness, I'll call it the Antonioni pose, that all the characters have, and the long, static shots might have made the film en vogue when it premiered but it lacks the childhood liveliness needed to make it a great film. Want to see a great film with Ana Torrent? Please see Carlos Saura's Cria Cuervos (Raising Ravens, 1976).

(Iconic scene from El Espiritu de la Colmena)

This has a much darker vision than El Espiritu de la Colmena , perhaps it is one of the darkest visions of childhood in all of cinema. Where Espiritu was meditative and simple, Cria Cuervos is convuluted and probingly psychological. Ana's beloved mother dies and she and her two sisters must live in the stern, unloving home of her father, a high-ranking military officer (probably an allegorical stand-in for Franco). The film begins with Ana silently placing a glass of poisoned milk on her father's nightstand. While making love to his mistress, he chokes and collapses stiffly on top of her. Now the sisters must live with their aunt who is possibly even colder than their own father.

The film is seen through Ana's eyes. We go in and out from Ana's memories to the present. The dead mother is still a very real presence in Ana's life. Ana's imagination often summons her and she comes and talks to Ana. It becomes clear that Ana does not really understand death, but is nonetheless obsessed with it. In a memorable scene she imagines herself jumping from a tall building in Madrid only to fly when she makes the leap.

Listen closely to that pop song that is ingenously used throughout the movie and in the film's trailer. It captures Ana's childlike concepts of death and loss. Cria Cuervos is directed by that most underrated of Spanish directors, Carlos Saura. He is best known for his exploration of the music and dance of Spain, especially Flamenco (1995). A personal favorite is his tribute to that passionate invention of Argentina, tango, titled appropriately enough, Tango (1998) (Tango also boasts one of the most superb jobs of cinematography ever done by that master of light and shadows Vittorio Storaro).

(Trailer to Cria Cuervos)

(*Not familiar with Luis Bunuel? I must refer you to the shocking surreal classic Un Chien Andalou (1928), a silent film co-directed with Salvador Dali, and The Exterminating Angel (1962), a film using my favorite dream-inspired plot device--a group of upper-crust socialites have dinner at the home of Señor Edmundo Nobile. After dinner they find that they're inexplicably trapped inside the room [mind you that nothing is locked]. They must use a little bit of absurd dream-logic to escape the home. The complete films of Un Chien Andalou http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5cKVZ6pkeEk and The Exterminating Angel http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXbRVgUZGZ4)