Spanish Cinema Now. 5.

Another in the Spanish Cinema Now retrospective of the work of actor Javier Cámara, Blind Sunflowers (Los girasoles ciegos), directed by José Luis Cuerda, has been adapted by Cuerda and Rafael Azcona (from the famous book of stories about Spain under Franco by Alberto Méndez). As this year's submission from Spain as a possible nominee for Best Foreign Language film, the movie carries some additional it-better-be-good baggage. Good it is, though not great. While its canvas initially appears to be wide - encompassing church, military, educational system and the politics of the time (around 1940) - its story focuses almost exclusively on the members of one family and the two churchmen involved with them, one closely, the other not so.

I have heard that the filmmakers elided content from several of the stories in the book (which I have not read) to form the plot of the movie, and this may account for some of the trouble: the tangential feeling you get from the subplot involving the daughter and politically "dangerous" son-in-law, for example. Although this is important to the story, its telling is alternately haphazard and heavy-handed, as are many of the scenes that advance the plot. So instead of purring along on its journey, the film often clunks.

On the plus side are the performances, story and theme. Cámara is as subdued here as I have ever seen him: His character is in hiding from the authorities, so this makes ample sense. His wife, thought to be his "widow," is played by the trustworthy Maribel Verdú (Y tu mamá también and last year's Seven Billiard Tables) and, as the young priest-in-training who finds himself attracted to Verdú, Raúl Arévalo (DarkBlueAlmostBlack and a regular from last year's SCN) tries his hand at a character different from anything I've so far seen him attempt. This role, which represents Spain (its youth, Church, and manhood), is the key to the film's thesis, symbolism and plot - and if Arévalo does not nail it, I suspect this has more to do with the problems of the screenwriting and direction than of this very good actor's abilities. He himself is never unbelievable, although some of the moments the filmmakers hand him come pretty close.

Arévalo plays a young, would-be priest just returned from the Spanish Civil War (the Church, heavily pro-Franco, sent many of its novitiates to serve on the Fascist side), and he is clearly guilt-ridden by what he had seen and done. Given some nicely-worded claptrap from his mentor in the Church and sent on his way, he begins a journey that becomes the film's, too. This young man's wants and needs thrust him into conflict with Church law until, like all good religious hypocrites, he manages to be a fine example of Spanish Catholicism under Franco by blaming someone else.

The film rarely raises its voice and its pacing remains even, moderate. This is both a help in avoiding melodrama (well, mostly) and a hindrance, in that it gives us time to consider other ways of moviemaking that might have worked better. Yet there are no deal-breakers here. By film's end, you'll have experienced a relatively simple tale of life under the dictator that offers a dark view of how the Church, education, politics and police all conspired to silence Spanish dissent. Blind Sunflowers screens again Thursday, December 18 at 4:15 pm.

Due to a tight schedule and the vagaries of the NYC transit system, I arrived a few minutes late to David and Tristán Ulloa's very interesting film Pudor. Nevertheless, I genuinely enjoyed Pudor; perhaps the Ulloas will forgive me. I've seen Tristán Ulloa many times as an actor (Km.0, Sex & Lucia, You Shouldn't Be Here and, at last year's SCN, Mataharis), but this is my first view of his and his brother's directorial abilities. They're impressive.

The Ulloas have taken the modern family drama and given it their own spin, which involves a degree of dysfunction (is anyone surprised?), possible extra-marital affairs for the grown-ups and school problems for the kids. But there is a third generation, too: the grandparents, one of whom has just died, leaving the widower to his own devices. "Ghosts" play an interesting role here, but not in any scary way. This subject, as all the others that the brotherly team tackles, is done with an interesting twist that makes it psychologically, symbolically and - most surprising of all - realistically sound.

The writers/directors have assembled a crack cast, most of whom I don't recall but - after Pudor - hope to see soon again. If the situations covered are fairly typical, the details of each character's life the Ulloas choose to show are consistently on-target. And their hand-held camera-work is fluid and graceful rather than jerky and off-putting (the cinematography is by David Omedes, who also shot Pretextos and Chef's Special from the current SCN series). If the parent's finale, despite the best efforts of the two actors, falls a bit into melodrama, both their situations have earlier proven so compelling that I think we can forgive the over-reaching. (The Ulloas also open up a Pandora's Box via the manner in which they handle the husband's secretary, whose behavior runs the gamut and then some). The youngest child's final foray into "ghostland," however, is handled remarkably well. Pudor screens again Wednesday, December 17, at 1:30 pm.

Posted by dwhudson at December 15, 2008 8:54 AM