Customer Reviews

Un Chien Andalou / Land Without Bread [VHS]

5 star:		(17)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Without the Luis Bunuel/Salvador Dali collaboration UN CHIEN ANDALOU, there might well have been no PINK FLAMINGOS, no ERASERHEAD, no Pasolini or Godard or Polanski etc. etc. etc., at least not the way we know and love them. Bunuel was once called the "Alfred Hitchcock of the Avant-Garde". Although most of what critics say makes as much sense to me as stereo instructions might to a Mayan tribesman, I have to say that that's pretty accurate; no one delved so deeply into the subconscious on-camera so successfully and so gleefully. And this is the film that started it all. Infamous eyeball-slicing aside (if such a notion is plausible), there is alot to be marvelled and shocked by. Of course, this isn't going to cause a riot (as it most assuredly did when it premiered in Paris in 1928... everyone, I'm sure, knows the story about Bunuel presiding over the record player that would supply the film's soundtrack at the film's premiere, his pockets filled with rocks), but it still packs a surprising nihilistic wallop after more than 70 years. I'm not going to reveal any of what you will see. It should suffice though, to tell you, that after these 20 or so minutes are over, you'll realize you've seen probably the closest cinematic approximation to a dream EVER produced. EVER. Viva Bunuel!...

I assume if you're buying this, you know what you're getting. What the other reviews don't mention is that this is a poor quality video. Granted, you don't expect a silent film to look like last week's Tom Hanks favorite, but my copy of this product looked like it had been through an x-ray machine.

No subtitles on Un Chien (though you don't really need them).

Hope this helps you make you're purchase decision.

'Un chien andalou' (1928) is the best-known film on this video and is a fascinating work in its own right, but the real masterpiece here is undoubtedly 'Land Without Bread' ('Las Hurdes'). As great as most of Bunuel's subsequent films would be, this 27-minute 1932 work arguably towers above them all. Calling it a documentary would not do justice to its unrivaled breadth: among other things, this film asks the questions 'what is a documentary?' and 'what is the role of the documentarist?', and this prevents us from using definitive, short-circuiting labels. In fact, no label could conceivably express this film's power. The controversy surrounding this work has three main sources: 1) some of the sequences have apparently been staged by Bunuel; 2) the impersonal narration seems in direct contrast to the pain and tragedy that unfolds on the screen; 3) so is Bunuel's choice of using Brahms's Fourth symphony as background music. For these reasons, cinephiles have been disagreeing for over 70 years about Bunuel's treatment of human and animal misery in this film. For me, his audacious technique creates a space - a window - between the viewer and the plight of the Hurdanos; it is this space that somehow transfigures their misery, rather than merely exploit it (as some have suggested). The film becomes a true initiation for the viewer: it provides a difficult, troubling but potentially life-changing experience. In the end, Bunuel's intentions do not matter as much as the impact his film can have on those who see it; and for this viewer, he has carved a moving, mysterious and ineffable work.

In "Un Chien Andalou", Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dali create a surreal film that undoubtedly influenced and led to other films and even comercials that we've all seen. I was particularly reminded of the images Pink Floyd would later use for their covers and concerts. The use of music (and the music itself) is fantastic, adding to the humor, melacholy and drama of the scenes and actors, who themselves are excellent, even without a single spoken word. One might think that's easy, but then one would only need to see Jean Cocteau's "Blood of a Poet" to see that it's not. "Land Without Bread" is equally surreal, but earie as well since it's actually a documenatry and what you see is real. The obscene poverty of a small spanish town is a fitting subject for Buñuels first and only documentary. Filmed in the early 30's, one is suddenly struck with the uncomfertable realization of what one is viewing; some scenes being downright grotesque, all the more so since they are not staged; yet in the hands of a master like Buñuel.

"Un Chien Andalou" (or "An Andalusian Dog," a title which has effectively nothing to do with the film) is virtually a trailer to Luis Bunuel's entire career, containing all the themes the surrealist would later tackle in masterpiece after masterpiece. Actually, that is far from a fair statement. While "Un Chien" is merely 16 minutes long, it is still exceptionally artful, even while it is anti-artistic (that is against everything that had come to be synonymous with art). It is still a delightfully subversive testament to the possibilities of art; possibilities weighed down by years of middle class expectations and oppression.

In this, and many other ways, it is a wicked slap to the face of modern right wing sensibilities, and not only formally, but structurally as well. Take the infamous eye-cutting scene for instance. Not only is the content shocking, but the editing. As Bunuel holds the razor to the girl's eye, the camera cuts to a shot of a thin cloud bisecting the moon. Conditioned movie audiences will assume this is a metaphor for the eye-cutting, and think they are to be spared the atrocities. But, Bunuel quickly cuts mercilessly to the violent act anyway. In ways like this he infuriates standards set up by typical cinema of every era, and all this back in 1928!

Yet there are still more merits to "Un Chien Andalou," another amazing thing being that it can be at once brilliantly structured and spontaneous, in itself a complete paradox. I can not say that any later film, even in Bunuel's arch, has ever achieved this. So, in this way, "Un Chien Andalou" is the only completely true example of surrealism in film.

I hope this has prompted you to view this film, as I can recommend to it no end. I own a copy and see it quite often, just for a little inspiration until my next viewing. Every time I find it to be fresh and liberating. It is a film that has the retro, razor-blade formula down pat, and I'm just waiting for it to resurface as a major force in pop art and culture. If everyone were to view this film, art would not be seen as paint and popsicle sticks.

This short seventeen-minute film has some of the most famous images in cinema history. By famous scenes I don't mean epic action scenes from famous hollywood blockbusters. Please don't expect scenes like the one in Raiders of the Lost Ark, where Harrison ford is being chased by a huge boulder. What I mean by famous is that in 1928, this film shocked the world. I'm not a surrealist, and when I watched this movie for the first time (a year ago, I'm 20 years old right now) I didn't understand anything or what surrealism was. I read up on the subject and I now have a really good grasp on the subject. Yet I still don't understand the movie. That is because this movie is not supposed to make any sense. So please, if you're like me and like intellectual challenges, go ahead and buy the movie. But if you're expecting a blockbuster film, save your money and order HBO. It is amazing how Bunuel and Dali were able to put their nightmares on film. Yet the most amazing thing about this film is not the images or the techniques, but the shocked reaction from the viewers who watch it expecting to see the story of an Andalusian dog. This is what makes it such a transcendent movie. Such a little piece of film caused and continous to cause so much shock. Enjoy...

The Land Without Bread (*****): I don't know too much about documentaries but I think it was one of the first attempts by a filmaker to try to wake up society. This documentary uses some cynical and disturbing humor to make the viewer feel uncomfortable by watching humans and animals dying from disease and famine. As one watches the film it is unclear what the difference is between the animals and the Hurdano people, for both have no rights or future in this world, and eventually both end up sharring the same fate. The language and tone of the film is not supposed to be "politically correct", for the purpose of the film is to show how politically incorrect governments were at the time. Hopefully more people watch this documentary for a lot of those real-life scenes continue to happen everyday due to negligent governments. After watching this film, and then turning on CNN to see more famine and social injustice, one can't help but wonder how we humans can't learn from history.

"Un Chien Andalou" is the greatest surrealist film of all time. It introduced the genius of Luis Buñuel and shows how easily surreal art translates to film. Made in collaboration with notorious painter Salvador Dali, this film is like a dream. There are images that are unforgettable (not least that famous slicing of the eyeball at the beginning) and the photography is hypnotic and the staging of the images is brilliant. The film is erotic, romantic, violent and daring even today. It stands as one of Buñuel's great works and one of the true classics of cinema. It is a complete work of art that dares to show a mix of the erotic or sexual attraction with violence. The next film in this video, "Land Without Bread," is also a great documentary that captures with gritty detail and stark realism the poverty of Las Hurdes and it also has scenes that are very memorable, like one where the grooms of a wedding compete on horseback to tear the head off a chicken suspended from a wire in the middle of town. Here are two films that show the craft of a great filmmaker.

Acclaimed as a surrealist masterpiece, "Un Chien Andalou" aggressively disconnects itself from narrative flow. The creators of this short film. Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí, fully intended there to be no links between successive scenes. Fortunately this didn't inhibit their dreaming up of some of the most striking moments ever to be projected upon the silver screen. The opening focuses on a man (Luis Buñuel) stropping his cut-throat razor, honing it to a perfect edge. Stepping onto the balcony, he gazes at the moon. This celestial orb is instantly replaced with a woman and, enlarging rapidly, her left eye. The bare blade then descends on her unprotected pupil, a graphic incident.

Designed to shock, which it still does almost 70 years later, quick editing removes the image before it has time to fully sink in. Suddenly the viewer is faced with a nun-like figure weaving uncertainly down the road on a bicycle. There is no bridge to the previous horror, although this mysterious person does provide a number of objects which resurface at odd intervals. Later there is the unusual sight of a man (Robert Hommet) hauling two grand pianos, each stuffed with the putrefying remains of a donkey, as he trudges towards a cowering woman. He is also unfortunate enough to have a hole in his hand, where the ants live. None of this is significant.

A marvellous aspect of something as wilfully bizarre as "Un Chien Andalou" is that almost any interpretation can be drawn from the images shown. Perhaps every single scene is random and unconcerned with any other, although Buñuel certainly seems to have included items which are present throughout the film. In some ways the repeated glimpses of these things in situations where they shouldn't be adds to the confused feel, enhanced by the off-putting and nonsensical time-markers deployed.

The eternal themes of life, death, lust and love are thrown up at various points, although there is no framework on which to attach these emotions. This is of no consequence though as Buñuel has already hurried onto the next sequence, violently cutting so that the desired woman becomes naked in a flash - a picture of what are ardent suitor really sees. "Un Chien Andalou" does not require such deep analysis though, being much more a film which should be purely experienced. It achieves that which Buñuel and Dalí aimed for and, with a live music accompaniment, is unstoppable!

I just watched Land Without Bread, or Las Hurdes, the only documentary directed by Luis Bunuel. The film is short, only 27 minutes, but it is long enough to portray enough human suffering to disgust. Images include a girl who lies in a road for two days and then dies. No one helps. The local schoolteacher instructs rows upon rows of malnourished children to respect the property of others. The schoolteacher feeds them bread, and makes them eat it immediately to keep their starving parents from taking it from them. They dip it into the only nearby source of water, a trickle running through a ditch where the pigs wallow. Bunuel illustrates with these sorts of images how these people are unbelievably pathetic, yet he clearly goes beyond this when he shows images of the developmentally challenged somehow teetering on the edge of life in a world where even the fittest can rarely overcome. "Morons and dwarves are plentiful..." says the narrator, but in some degree or other, all the people of the community are tragically moronic at every turn. They drink water from the ditch, yet somewhere within a reasonable distance is a river. They try to plant a crop, but the crop is washed away because they plant too near that river. They cook over an open fire indoors, but they don't make windows for themselves to let smoke out of their homes. They have no food for two months of the year, and yet mothers carry babies around in almost every shot. The viewer is left with the distinct impression that these people can't survive much longer, and there is certainly no optimism in sight when the film ends. How in the world can these people not plan a little better? The answer, I think, must lie in the intellectually suffocating nature of their hopelessness, the horrendous condition they feel swept away again and again along with every one of even the slightest currents of misfortune. Perhaps they've simply quit trying, it would seem.

I saw bits and pieces of this movie when I was about 8 years old and I remember a while later I saw my first Salvador Dali drawing in my aunt's friends house. It was an actual print and both the drawing and movie made a deep impression on me. So much so, that I've searched long and hard for this movie and I was not disapointed when I finally watched it fully now as an adult.

It is, above all, a work of art and an experiment in Surrealist film. Luis Bunel and Salvador Dali teamed up to create a disturbing and revolutionary film that has influenced film makers for years.

If you think modern art is trash or would feel queesy about watching an eyeball being sliced in half...then this video is not for you.

The video quality is excellent and the documentary included in the VHS version is a welcome bonus. Overall, it's a great video and worth the price.