Viridiana (1961)

I had not had great experiences with writer-director Luis Buñuel. I found The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie a confusing mess and The Exterminating Angel too absurd to take seriously. Had I recalled his role in writing part of Johnny Got His Gun, I might have refused to watch anything else of his. But sometimes the fact that a picture was once banned makes it tempting, even to those who respect the church that decried it. Besides, I was curious to see how Buñuel would do with something neither in the realm of fantasy nor full of dreams.

The title character (Silvia Pinal) is preparing to become a nun in Spain. She reluctantly accepts an invitation to visit her estranged wealthy uncle, Don Jaime (Fernando Rey), who may not have much longer to live. Viridiana looks so much like her departed aunt that he hatches a terrible plot to have his way with her. That's as far as the Netflix summary goes, but it doesn't do justice to the second half; if you don't mind possible spoilers, read on.

Don Jaime does indeed die, and his estate gets split between Viridiana and his bastard son, Jorge (Francisco Rabal). Jorge also develops an incestuous desire, but at least he's not aggressive about it; mainly it shows in his resentment of Viridiana's cool demeanor. More than that, he resents how she sees fit to put her wealth to use: inviting homeless people to live in a shed, dine, and receive a religious education. I can see why she'd choose this over the abbey, but she learns the hard way that the poor can be just as nasty as the rich.

Indeed, these homeless don't come across as regular, decent people who just happen to be down on their luck. Much of the time, they don't play well even with each other, let alone polite society. I guess the ones with disabilities aren't so bad; they have an excuse for not fitting in. But they all knowingly break their benefactor's rules, and some subject her to a worse trauma than Don Jaime did.

You don't have to be remotely Christian to question the apparent moral herein. Was that jerk Jorge right all along? That you shouldn't be generous to those most in need, because they'll run roughshod over you? I don't doubt that it happens in RL sometimes, but on screen, it suggests preaching a universal course of (in)action.

And then there's the final scene. Both the censored original and the subtler replacement hint at Viridiana abandoning not only her faith but mainstream sexual ethics. This does not follow a path of logic from her past experience, so it hardly feels inevitable. I hope it's not Buñuel's idea of a happy ending.

My need to move away from esteemed art films, temporarily if not forever, is intensifying. I'll rearrange my queue accordingly, and if I find another Buñuel title, it's getting dropped.