If one evening best summarizes the theme of this term's DFS series "Auteurs", it is tonight's presentation of directors Luis Bunuel's "Viridiana" and Ingmar Bergman's "Persona."
Bunuel and Bergman each revolutionized what it means to be a director and an auteur. Bergman's "The Seventh Seal" annually appears on critics' lists as the greatest film of all time.
Bunuel's collaboration with artist Salvador Dali Un Chien Andalou is the seminal piece of surrealist film. These films find the two directors branching out from prior films, while exploring many of the themes which dominate their respective oeuvres.
"Viridiana" tells the story of the title character, a young woman in training to be a nun. The film begins as she visits her widowed uncle, Don Jamie.
Don Jamie's dead wife, who passed away on her wedding night, bears a striking resemblance to Viridiana. Fueled by the anguish of a lost love, Don Jamie drugs the young novice. So begins a depraved decent into a hellish sequence of disturbing visions.
Beggars, dwarfs and lepers engage in an orgiastic dance of debauchery. As this goes on, Don Jaime attempts to rape Viridiana, as a young girl plays voyeur to the entire proceeding through a key hole.
A scene in which Leonardo Da Vinci's "Last Supper" is parodied crosses the line into sacrilege. It is all standard Bunuel fare -- surreal, disturbing and always compelling.
Although Bunuel was allowed to make the film in Spain, and the initial script was approved, the final product was banned from being shown.
Bunuel's ability to realize the words from the script in such a profoundly disturbing way such as to reverse the decision of the censors is a testament to his vision.
One needs only to look at his pervious work to realize that it is the power of the image which Bunuel exercises. Nothing demonstrates this better then the "Last Supper" scene. Incorporating social criticism, religion and the grotesque, Bunuel crafts one of the most profoundly disturbing scenes in cinema.
Bergman's "Persona" also reflects a profoundly developed vision. Like "Viridiana," the plot is secondary to the barrage of images thrown at the viewer.
The story focuses on an actress, Elisabeth Vogler, who has just suffered a mental collapse. She and a young nurse in her charge, Alma, retreat to a hideaway cottage.
The two become close, as Alma finds herself opening up the silent actress. Their relationship is revealed in a series of progressively hallucinatory interactions between the two.
"Persona" finds Bergman at his most experimental. The editing and camera work all serve to subvert any sound basis for establishing what is real and what is not.
Breaking down even the basic supposition of suspension of disbelief, with shots which make the viewer continuously aware of the film as a film, Bergman supports the film's underlying themes.
The question of identity is the focus of Persona. To this end, Bergman addresses the very question of what crafts the viewer's relation to the characters.
The audience soon becomes confused as to who is really Alma and who is Elisabeth. Can physical appearance be trusted?
Monologues are repeated from different camera angles, destroying any semblance of realism, but ironically creating a deeper notion of "character development."
When the images on the scene melt, as if the projector had just broken, the audience becomes aware they are watching a film. By creating this space between the viewer and the film, Bergman allows for a true internalization of the themes at hand.
"Viridiana" and "Persona" are not easy films to watch, but their artistic merits will more than reward your perseverance.
