A few lessons from a retrospective
Tony hardly reacted when I told him about the retrospective on Pedro Almodóvar at the Museum of Modern Art (from November 29 through December 17). He spent his gap year in Málaga, where he couldn't get enough of the arts. I was surprised when he told me that the Spanish public had mixed feelings about Almodóvar. He even confessed that many Spanish students were unfamiliar with the works of Luis Buñuel and Carlos Saura.
My housemate expected my dismay. I even wondered if there were better things to do. (It might be what the Spaniards were thinking about their local cinema.) Buñuel, who came from a bourgeoisie background, was the cleric's staunchest critic. "L'Age d'Or" (1930), roughly translated as "The Golden Age", featured surreal images that suggested a character's fetish for fingers and a religious figure seducing another. It was clearly a rebel's idea, who seemed ashamed of his upbringing. There have been many movies that lampooned the pretentious values of the bourgeoisie class, even comparing it to a toilet bowl. Buñuel knew that the religious authorities wouldn't be provoked right away, so he thought of scenes that would be deemed too controversial back then. I wondered if the young Buñuel was bored with Sunday masses. He might be surprised to see how Madonna made a fortune from this mindset, but he didn't live long.
On the other end of the spectrum, Saura would be the Symbolist poet in the twilight years of Generalissimo Francisco Franco's regime. "Flamenco" (1995) and "Tango" (1998) fascinated me, social dances highlighted by red, orange, and yellow colors. Vittorio Storaro's photography screamed of life, but Saura might be alluding to tradition. My coursemates made fun of my reluctance to go to the dance floor. (It might be a distinctive trait of an introvert. It could be me.) It was a good gues; the filmmaker, who would reach a ripe, old age, might not like what he saw after Franco's death. Tony believed that his later films could be his finest, where his characters were in a nostalgic mood. It wasn't hard to connect the dots.
The cultural bacchanal that followed Franco's death
Martha, Tony's girlfriend, least liked Almodóvar's films, but this wasn't an issue between them. She was aware of the critical acclaim on “All About my Mother” (1999) and “Talk to Her” (2003) in other countries, but it didn't interest her at all. She saw Almodóvar's earlier works, which were full of delirious sensuality. She didn't dare ask her parents about it, as many scenes were too vulgar for her. It could be Almodóvar's way of showing off his impishness, revealing on the end of the Fascist regime. Tony recommended plenty of glasses of water, which Martha didn't get at all. She might not figure out the humor, but it might be an outsider's reaction to a foreign work.
I haven't seen “Julieta” (2016), so I might check out the schedule. Tony didn't say a word, which could mean that he have seen Almodóvar's latest work. He hasn't told me about the other films (that he saw), which made me wished there were countless film events in the Big Apple.
