OVP: Tristana (1970)

Film: Tristana (1970)
Stars: Catherine Deneuve, Fernando Rey, Frano Nero, Lola Gaos
Director: Luis Bunuel
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Foreign Language Film-Spain)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

I am having a lot of health issues this week (not-Covid, for the record), and so other than work I have basically been a vegetable trying to calm said issues, which is why I haven't posted much.  My hope, though, is that by Sunday we'll still get out our four Foreign Film articles (and Saturdays with the Stars is all set to go already), and then next week (stomach-willing), I'll be back to our normal schedule.  Today our article is going to be about Tristana, one of the final films from cinematic icon Luis Bunuel, and a movie made at arguably the peak of Catherine Deneuve's initial stardom.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film feels at once conventional and very film-of-the-1970's.  We have Tristana (Deneuve), a beautiful young woman whose mother has just died.  She is taken on as a ward by Don Lope (Rey), who initially treats her as a father, but then adopts her as his lover, basically rationalizing to her and himself that if it weren't for him, she'd be on the streets, and therefore she owes him.  It's as gross as it sounds, but thankfully the filmmakers realize that it's gross.  Tristana eventually falls in love with Horacio (Nero), a handsome young painter, and is taken in as his lover, but when she gets sick and loses her leg to a tumor she agrees to wed Don Lope (who is now rich after inheriting a large sum from his sister), and in the final moments of the film, she kills him, essentially pretending to call for a doctor when he is obviously in need of medical care, and (presumably) inheriting his fortune.

The film is oddly juxtaposed between the beauty of a young Deneuve (radiant, always, but breathtakingly so so early in her career) with the grossness of the story.  The film's plot, with Don Lope essentially blackmailing Tristana into being his lover, is the kind you'd see in an old movie, but instead of having her eventually love him (which would have happened in an old movie, or, quite frankly Beauty and the Beast), she gets her revenge, and it's pretty cathartic for the audience.  The film has other visually gross elements (there's a scene where Rey's head, in a dream, is banging against a bell), but it doesn't need them-the heinousness of what is happening is already apparent.

Deneuve has a difficult role to play here.  While Rey and Nero have relatively standard characterizations (played well, but still), there's little growth in these characters, likely to show how much Tristana changes (or doesn't...both interpretations have merit) as we go.  There are scenes that don't make sense (like when she flashes a third side of the love square, a young man named Saturna, on a balcony) until the film's final moments, when you understand that Tristana, despite being robbed of her lover and her leg, is still in command, still aware of the effect she can have on men, not just sexually, but in taking what she wants from them, in this case revenge and inheritance.  There's the potential for this character to be an anti-feminist nightmare, but Deneuve doesn't play her that way-she's someone who understands power, and is willing to use her own to gain an advantage on those who betray her.  It's a fascinating, unkempt revenge tale.

Diary of a Chambermaid (1964)

Film: Diary of a Chambermaid (1964)
Stars: Jeanne Moreau, Georges Geret, Daniel Ivernel, Francoise Lugagne
Director: Luis Bunuel
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

On occasion I get a truly random movie in my mailbox from Netflix (yes, I am one of those people that still gets DVD's delivered to their house-I am a Netflix subscriber for the movies and the assortment on streaming is kind of pitiful in that regard) that I don't remember adding to the queue.  Occasionally, based on articles or critics I like or just random suggestions from strangers I end up adding a film to my queue and eventually it bubbles up, and since I watch every film that makes it to my house (no point in sending back something unseen), I watch some films I don't remember wanting to see.  Thus was the case with Luis Bunuel's Diary of a Chambermaid, a provocative film from 1964 starring Jeanne Moreau.

(Spoilers Ahead) This was actually, and as a cinephile I'm ashamed to admit this, the first Bunuel movie I had ever seen, something I didn't realize until I just started writing this review.  As a result, considering how many films of his I plan to see (his presence in the OVP, Cannes Film Festival, and Sight & Sound poll are all extraordinarily robust) I'm glad to say that I enjoyed it.  The film tells the tale of Celestine (Moreau), a woman who takes on a job as a maid in a secluded country estate.  The film focuses primarily on the interactions Celestine has with the wealthier upper class, some of whom are put off by her airs of sophistication (she's from Paris, and wants you to know it) while others are driven mad by her beauty and air of indifference.  She is forced, in several uncomfortable scenes, to essentially role-play a fantasy with her employer, fight off the advances of his son-in-law (who has a penchant for getting women pregnant), and even the chauffeur rebuffs her but is constantly trying to sleep with her.

The film, however, has more meaning than just to watch Jeanne Moreau fight off the advances of men. Halfway through the film, there is a murder of a young girl, penniless but whom Celestine has grown an attachment.  Because of her station the police have little interest in pursuing the murderer, so Celestine, convinced that the chauffeur Joseph (Geret) is the killer, actively uses her sexuality against him in hopes of trying to incriminate him in the murder, but the film ends with no resolution on this front, and much like Cabaret, we see in the final scenes a shift to a different ending that has been building throughout the film, in some ways under the audiences attention: that of a right-wing movement of anti-semitic, nationalist protesters who have started to draw power in France, mirroring in many ways the Nazis some years earlier (or if you want to go there, the National Front currently in France).

The film's power lies not only in the way that it keeps this political uprising largely ancillary until the end, when the powers-that-be are too great and we see the rise of Joseph as a major political player despite his seemingly inane rants being clucked at earlier in the picture, but also in the way that the plot is never entirely clear, which keeps you guessing and looking for clues (always a plus in a mystery).  The film's central character of Celestine, as played by Moreau, is impossible to decipher.  What are her motives in coming to this small town after seemingly enjoying her life in Paris?  What are her end goals and why does she fixate on Joseph over other potential suspects, like her eventual husband the ex-military official or the lecherous son-in-law who ends up essentially raping another of his employees late in the picture?  It's unclear, and it makes us realize that perhaps Celestine herself doesn't know what is happening in her own motives, and she's so used to the world going her way (even in the final scenes, we see her in control by using her beauty to demand obedience from the men around her) that she doesn't realize what to do when things aren't thrown at her?  It's a fascinating film, one left open-ended enough to discuss continuously, and still concrete enough that it feels complete, not like I'm missing a piece.  All-in-all, while it is hardly a landmark film it's still one that's endlessly intriguing and has me richly excited for future dates with Bunuel.

Those are my thoughts-how about yourself?  Are you a fan of Bunuel or Moreau, and what are your favorites of the film?  Who do you think killed the young girl Claire in this picture?  And which of this film's three iterations is your favorite?  Share in the comments!