Cet obscur objet du désir

Yes, the back drop of terrorism. Yes, the ubiquitous sack. But how about the mouse caught in a trap inexplicably in the middle of a scene? Or the fat disgusting fly in Fernando Rey's drink in another scene? What was it doing there? (Yes I know, the backstroke!) But seriously, these bizarre additions are intrusive but do not actually disrupt the narrative (as heavy symbolism does in so many art house films.) They are intriguing. To me it is meant to offer the audience a clue that Mathieu's love for Conchita is not pure. It is contaminated by lust and the shallow insincerity of both of them.

I'm open to better suggestions.

I have to say I loved this film.

Few other directors would dare to equate the male libido with international terrorism, but the final feature by master surrealist Luis Buñuel is a dark comic web of sexual obsession (too dark to be truly funny) set against a background of random explosions and political assassinations. The always dapper Fernando Rey stars as a wealthy gentleman who develops an all-consuming infatuation for his young Spanish maid, who by turns tempts him, teases him, refuses him, and finally humiliates him. All Rey wants is to carry his passion to its logical conclusion, but her (deliberately?) unpredictable shifts in mood, from coy temptation to spiteful rejection, leave him in a state of dangerous frustration. Buñuel applies his usual sly wit to the otherwise cynical and pessimistic scenario (one man affectionately refers to women as "sacks of excrement"), going so far as to cast two completely different actresses in the title role and interchanging them at random. The film is at once perverse and disturbing, providing a suitably mordant swan song to a long and distinguished career in movie iconoclasm.

Contrary to the initial comment on this page, the director Luis Bunuel did not use two different actresses to play the lead role as a plot device to show "One actress for her placid nature and another actress for her tempermental side."

While this is an oft-repeated misconception, it's not remotely true. In Luis Bunuel's autobiography, "My Last Sigh" (A fantastic book, still in print) the director discusses the reason for this unique directorial device, and how funny he finds it that so many "fans" assume that the choices were based on the actresses temperment or his desire to "express" something obscure. In truth, two actresses were used simply because the lead actress quit partway through production after having completed many critical scenes. Luis was beside himself over the wasted time and money in reshooting, so he hired a replacement to shoot only the missing scenes, and edited them irregardless of who was acting in a given scene. It served him well, as the end result was brilliant.

I would like to begin by saying that this is one of the most bizarre films that I have ever experienced in my career as a movie buff. I have seen some twist endings, some passionately bad French films, and even some stalker films, but nothing compares to the cinematic genius that I just witnessed. Being a Bunuel 'virgin', I didn't know what to expect coming into this film.

I was ready for anything, but interestingly enough nothing will prepare you for this film. Deeply rooted in cinematic symbolism, we watch as two very interesting devises that are used to bring forth the overall theme of this film. Two devises that I have never seen used in a movie, until now.

The first is the obvious. Bunuel successfully uses two different actresses to play the same role of Conchita. At first I thought perhaps it was going to be one of those 'twin' double-cross films where these two girls used this older wealthy man for all his money. I was wrong. Similar to the title of this film, this is a film about passions and desires. It divulges in the emotion of obsession, and the reaction a man can have on someone that he desperately and sexually desires. Mathieu is our possible victim in this story. While both are not the most interesting characters (both have flaws and troubles), they do provide some structured characters. Mathieu is willing to give up everything for this woman that he hardly knows, but is physically attracted to her. It is hard to say that he loves her, but he does lust for her. The dual role of Conchita in this film is used for two purposes. The first is as a distraction, while the second is emotion. Both Conchitas are different in their own way and are used to push forward the story. Whenever Bunuel needed to convey a different emotion, he would bring in the actress that best represented that emotion. At first it was confusing, but as the film progressed you began to see less and less separate actresses, but instead as one character. It is impressive how Bunuel created this illusion.

As I mentioned above, there were two devises that I have never seen in a movie before. I explained above about the use of two women for one female role, but the second is a bit subtler. I briefly mentioned it above about how these two women (one character) were used to distract. If you pay attention to the film terrorism is a big part of the universe surrounding Mathieu. While he pines continually for Conchita, the world around him is falling apart. Bombings and deaths are at an all time high, yet he doesn't really seem to notice this. He is so caught up in Conchita that it seems like nothing else exists. He is oblivious to his surroundings. In fact, I would go so far as to say that we are also oblivious to the surroundings. Bunuel does this job of keeping our eye focused on the interchanging women that we sometimes forget or miss the actions surrounding this film. I believe that Bunuel is trying to prove the point that obsession does obscure your vision. It blurs your eyes and forces you to miss crucial elements of your surroundings. It isn't until the end when we are reminded violently of the truth surrounding our characters. I felt that Bunuel was slapping me in the face with that final scene. I had nearly forgotten myself of the terrorism outside, but easily he reminded me.

This was a spectacular film that really opened my eyes to a completely new way of film-making. It reminded me of some of the early works of another favorite director of mine Francois Ozon. Both of these talented artists have their own way of creating a world and an emotion, and both do it with some of the most beautiful strokes of their mechanical brush. I would recommend this film to anyone that is willing to experience radical, yet provocative film-making at its best. You will be impressed.

I cannot wait to include this film in my collection to watch over and over again. Thanks to Criterion, they have provided a beautiful packaging to this obscure film.

Grade: ***** out of *****

The story is told by Mathieu (played by the excellent Fernando Rey) to a group of strange people in a train carriage compartment. He is a wealthy man who meets a beautiful young woman named Conchita. They begin to see each other often, and Mathieu's desire for her grows stronger. Conchita is poor and lives with her mother in a small flat. Mathieu gives them a lot of money, but mistakenly tries to buy Conchita away from her mother. Conchita is played by two beautiful actresses, but strange as it may seem, this doesn't effect the film negatively. Sometimes when one version of Conchita walks through a door the other figure enters the next room. But this unique style does work.

Conchita teases Mathieu throughout the film and comes across as a manipulative vixen. Also, there is a group of terrorists bombing buildings and cars throughout the film. A strange sack is carried around and seen several times, too. These are the mysterious things Buñuel likes to add to his films. You also get the feeling that Buñuel knew this was going to be his last film with the ending, which is perfectly abrupt.