Land Without Bread

I found it very interesting reading the reactions of others here, from interpreting this as everything from a pure comedy to a pure documentary. The truth is that it denies classification, and for many that just simply does not compute. Therefore, it has obviously done exactly what Bunuel wanted.

The aim of surrealism is to lure you in with the trap of a conventional narrative, and then hit you right in the face with something impossible to just passively accept. This film is the perfect example of this. You are absolutely forced into the role of active observer; forced to draw your own conclusions. Independent thought is pulled to the surface, returning comprehension to it's original purity. Reality lies not in what you are seeing, and not in what you are hearing, but somewhere in-between.

My God, this man was a genius, and so far ahead of his time it's unbelievable. Spielberg shows you what you want to see. Bunuel shows you what you need to see. Find this film and see it. Its value is incalculable.

I have been frustrated by the version of the film that is available in my area, entitled "Unpromised Land". The original "Tierra sin Pan" has a completely different commentary which is made "politically correct" in the "Unpromised" version. Avoid "Unpromised Land" as it censors and alters the original intent of the film as conceived by Bunuel!

Luis Buñuel's approach to film-making was so unusual, and his intentions so hard to decipher, that you can never be quite sure what his movies were meant to convey. So it should probably not be too surprising that even when he makes a documentary it is still hard to tell exactly what he was doing. While this gives every initial appearance of being a straightforward documentary, it is not long before Buñuel's detailed yet surrealistic approach begins to show in subtle ways.

Whatever else may be true, it is an unusual film, and a generally interesting one. It is also unsettling - at times, very much so. It depicts a civilization that, though located in the midst of Spain just before the Franco era, could almost be from pre-historic times. Many of the images and much of the commentary are disturbing and uncomfortable to watch, to say the least. Yet the tone is far from emotional, and in fact it seems to be deliberately withdrawn, even unsympathetic, much of the time.

At the same time, it's easy to see why there are those who suggest that Buñuel was not filming a strictly objective documentary. While there are no outlandish or fantastical images, his distinctive style shows up in less obvious ways, through odd details and sequences. There also seem to be a number of different versions of the narration, which do not always cast events in the same light. So, as so often tends to be the cast with Buñuel, all that you can do is to watch it for yourself and then make your best guess as to what it all means.

...from Spain and provocative director Luis Bunuel. The people of the Las Hurdes region of Spain are shown in all of their starving and impoverished misery. Located roughly 60 miles from the well-off Province of Salamanca, Las Hurdes is rampant with disease and malnutrition. The camera captures the look of loss and hopelessness on the emaciated children's faces, and we see as they drink from a filthy river and eat meager portions of bread. This stuff is pretty raw, but there's a dispassionate distance courtesy of the matter-of-fact English-language narrator on the version I watched. There's also a couple of rough animal scenes (a goat falls down a cliff, and a donkey is killed by bees) that may be a deal breaker for some viewers. It is listed as one of the 1001 Movies to See Before You Die.

"Las Hurdes" may be the Surrealist documentary par excellence, a tendentious film discourse about poverty shot in Las Hurdes Altas, a human settlement out of a nightmare, among steep precipices, in an almost deserted landscape. Even based on Maurice Legendre's 1927 anthropological text "Las Jurdes: A Study of Human Geography", Buñuel forced into the harsh situations his own obsessions with insects and donkeys that would appall today any society for the protection of animals. Done at a time when Spain was among the nine countries with the highest level of economic development, by contrast this work shows the state of misery of a community marginalized by landowners, forgotten by authorities, and living in the cruelest of conditions. The cynic commentary makes the facts more striking, but the music score by Darius Milhaud is an obtrusive element. Although banned by the authorities, it was re-released with a Spanish narration read by actor Francisco Rabal.