Monday, September 17, 2018

Luna caliente (2009)

The suppression and censorship of art at the hands of authoritarian dictatorships has led to many real life horror stories for numerous artists worldwide throughout the years, at times even leading to the expulsion of artists from their native countries. Under the dictatorship of Francisco Franco from 1936 to 1975, the censorship practices in Spain were particular egregious, and made even more so coupled with the fact that the Catholic church was in full support of Franco's trampling of art. Jess Franco and José Ramón Larraz, two of the biggest mavericks of Spanish film even left the country to work abroad until Franco's death. Nevertheless, the resistance to Francoism was a source of inspiration for many, and it's precisely why Vicente Aranda is such an interesting case study. Given that Franco was still in power when Aranda made films like Fata Morgana (1965), which could easily be interpreted as a metaphor for living under a totalitarian regime, The Exquisite Cadaver (1969) and The Blood Splattered Bride (1972), its miraculous the amount of boundary pushing content for the time Aranda was able to get away with in these films. Aranda's anti-Francoist sentiments would pop up again throughout his career, and for his final film, 2009's Luna caliente, Aranda turned once again to one of the numerous abuses of power in Franco's reign for inspiration and in the process brought his entire career full circle.

Juan, a Spanish poet living in Paris returns to a politically tumultuous Spain to visit his mother and sister. Upon arriving, Juan discovers the entire town is on edge to to the trial of members of a separatist group fighting against Franco's regime. Later, Juan has dinner with Miniente, an old friend and anti-Franco sympathizer. Juan also meets Miniente's daughter Ramona and is immediately taken by her. Due to car troubles, Juan stays the night at Miniente's, and allows his passions to overtake him as he rapes Ramona and accidentally strangles her. Believing her dead, he tries to leave but is stopped by a drunken Miniente who insists on a late night on the town. After numerous protests from Juan for Miniente to return home, a belligerent Miniente admits to Juan he knows all about what happened with Ramona. A struggle ensues, resulting in Juan accidentally killing Miniente. In a panic, Juan dumps his car, along with Miniente's corpse over a bridge and rushes home. The following morning, Juan gets quite a shock when he finds Ramona at his door. Telling him she enjoyed what happened the night before, the two begin a torrid affair, however Juan is in for another surprise when he is called in for questioning regarding Miniente's disappearance and when the body is discovered, Juan becomes the main suspect. After refusing to confess, Juan is dealt one final shock, when the police inform him that a confession would be wise on his part due to his sisters involvement with trial gripping the entire nation.

A paranoid, erotically charged take on the classic Hitchcock theme of a man in over his head in a precarious situation, Luna caliente (Hot Moon), whether intentional or not, made for the perfect Aranda swansong, checking off all the boxes that defined Aranda's oeuvre. Playing out like a waking nightmare, the predicament faced by Juan is a clear cut example of the main concern of Barcelona School of Film style of filmmaking, of which Aranda was a pioneer, that being “the disruption of everyday life by the unexpected”. Aranda does something particularly interesting by presenting a protagonist who in all reality could also be considered somewhat of an antagonist given several of his actions throughout the course of the film. It's almost as if Aranda is forcing the audience to make a moral judgment as to which is worse, Juan's transgressions or the oppression and intimidation of the police state. Considering Aranda's political sentiments, not to mention the motivations of the police and government, it's a masterful game to play with any viewer and with the heavy feeling of police state tyranny being a constant, the film is bound to leave many viewers uncomfortable and perhaps even a bit furious. By far the most fascinating aspect of the film, the bizarre, obsessive relationship that forms between Juan and the enigmatic Ramona, harkens back to Aranda's fiercely sexual 90's output, with Ramona, exceptionally played by the vampish Thaïs Blume, a femme fatale of sorts, who's motivations are, rather wisely on Aranda's part, left mysterious.

The trial that hovers over the film was based on an actual trial that took place in 1969 (the film takes place in 1970) known as the Burgos Trial. Following the murder of Francoist police officer Melitón Manzanas, a notorious torturer who aided the Nazi's, 16 members of the E.T.A. separatist group were arrested, tried and eventually sentenced to death. Largely considered a show trial, it sparked numerous protests in Spain as well as internationally and due to the immense pressure, Franco's government was left with little choice but to reduce the sentences. Although Franco would continue to rule until 1975, the Burgos Trial has been cites over the years as the first major crack in Franco's regime, however there would be numerous instances of violence involving the E.T.A., with the brutality of Franco's retaliation causing even more protests and some nations even chose to distance themselves from Spain, Mexico going so far as suggesting Spain be removed from the United Nations. Little wonder then living under such conditions groomed filmmakers such as Aranda to use the medium of filmmaking as a form of defiance and in a lot of ways, Luna caliente could be seen as the ultimate Aranda film. Featuring virtuously all the defining characteristics of his most essential work, Luna caliente is indeed just an essential Aranda title. One last act of defiance from one of Spain's most liberated filmmakers.    



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