The Great Movies: "The Exterminating Angel"

Exterminating Angel
Luis Buñuel, 1961.

We've encountered Luis Buñuel twice before in this project, in the punkish 1929 experimental film Un Chien Andalou and in the fairly grating 1976 drama Belle de Jour. The guy had a crazy long career. Having seen these two films, though, I had to approach The Exterminating Angel not only not knowing what it would be about, but also not knowing to what extent it would be about anything at all in the conventional sense. It turns out, though, that The Exterminating Angel is a movie with a fairly straightforward narrative. The plot is based on an absurd premise, but no more so than in any film with a science fiction or supernatural element to it. It has surrealist elements reminiscent of Chien Andalou -- a trio of sheep shown wandering around an upper-class home with no immediate explanation, for example -- but they turn out to have both reasonable rationalizations for their presence and a role to play in the plot. The disembodied hand from Chien comes back for a cameo, but this time it is there for a conventional reason: it is a hallucination brought on by starvation and stress.

The Plot: As a group of rich folks gather for a party after the opera, the servants feel a strange compulsion to leave the house. The party goes on until very late in the morning, when the guests all announce their intention to leave. But no one actually leaves; they all find reasons to just go to sleep in the parlor where the party has been. The next morning, it begins to dawn on them that some mysterious force is preventing anyone from leaving the room. They can walk toward the open doorway with every intention of leaving, but somehow their mind will change before they reach the threshold. The hours, then days, then weeks go by, the party-goers struggling first to leave, then merely to extend their survival.

Ebert suggests that this plot is a commentary on the privileged classes in Franco's Spain who, having seized control of their country, ironically trapped themselves in a stagnant society that no greater vision than the mere continuation of its banal status quo. I can buy that. My own thoughts drifted towards the parallels between Angel and a later movie with a radically different tone, the 1993 comedy Groundhog Day. Both feature protagonists inexplicably trapped in either time or space, and use their altered realities as a laboratory for a thought experiment in morality. What sort of temptations and challenges would face people placed in such extreme circumstances? How would they confront their situation? And what can we learn from their hypothetical choices that applies to existence in realtime? In both cases, the thought process is worked out in an engaging and entertaining sort of way.

Visuals: Buñuel clearly loved his surreal touches, and they are the best filmed moments of the movie. Since so much of the film takes place in a dim room, there is a sense of claustrophobia and increasing shabbiness that is not especially pretty on the screen, but it's effectively conveyed. Importantly, the casting, makeup, and wardrobe is sufficient to differentiate around twenty characters in an ensemble cast; with only a few exceptions, we are always able to keep track of the supporting characters without any difficulty at all. This is not always easy to pull off even in a color film, where a costume designer can color code characters with their clothes; since Angel is a black and white film, the feat is all the more commendable.

Dialog: In Spanish, with English subtitles.

Prognosis: I went into this film with trepidation, and was surprised to see it leaping immediately onto the shortlist of my favorite black and white movies. I am, I guess, a fan of fiction that departs from what-if questions: what if there was this party that people literally couldn't bring themselves to leave? It's the kind of premise that works well for, say, a Stephen King thriller; here, it's a premise that works well for a vaguely antiauthoritarion Spanish art film.

The Exterminating Angel is not a fast moving film. I can't recall a single moment, in fact, that could be described as an "action scene." It's therefore (1) old, (2) black & white, (3) in English, and (4) based strictly on dialogue and atmosphere. Safe to say, it's not for everyone in the moviegoing American public. Me, I loved it. Maybe you'll like it too.

The Monday Quiz LXXXVIII

Name That Theme!

1. Who's the Author?

2. Where are we?

3. It's a ________!

4. The most famous person to ever play football for the University of Michigan was _______________.

5. The legendary director of Western films famous for creating images like this was ______________.

6. Special bonus image: how does it fit the theme?

Submit your answers in the comments.

The First Book of Moisture in the Atmosphere

Among the many benefits of being married to Mrs. 5000 is that she tends to give away her prototypes as prezzies!


The structure of The First Book of Moisture in the Atmosphere is formed from denim, which she stiffened in some way that she explained to me but I forgot. Meaning, yes, this is the first ever art book made from my old pants.

It's very mappy, which makes me think it was custom made for me.

I think it's awesome.

There's more Mrs.5000 at her web site!

The Thursday Quiz XCVII

The Thursday Quiz!

The Thursday Quiz is a twelve item is-it-or-isn't-it test of your knowledge, reasoning, stamina, and moxie!

Remember always the Fundamental Rules of the Thursday Quiz:

1. The Thursday Quiz is a POP quiz. No research, Googling, Wikiing, or use of reference books. Violators will never be able to look at themselves in the mirror again.

2. Don't get all stressed out about it! It's supposed to be fun!

College Football!

The big day is finally here! The University of Oregon kicks off its season against Boise State tonight in a big-time matchup that will almost certainly end with my testosterone level either up or down 20%, depending on which student athletes prevail!

The NCAA big show expands to 120 teams this year -- welcome, Western Kentucky Hilltoppers! Seriously! Here are twelve teams that may or may not be in contention, along with their respective helmets. Which IS and which ISN'T bona fide college football teams?

1. Arizona State Sun Devils
2. Louisiana-Lafayette Ragin’ Cajuns
3. Navy Dreadnaughts
4. Nevada State Miners
5. New Hampshire State Dragons
6. North Carolina State Lions
7. Ohio Bobcats
8. South Carolina Gamecocks
9. Southern Methodist Mustangs
10. Tulane Bears
11. Virginia Cavaliers
12. Virginia Tech Lightning
Get your answers into the comments with a balanced pass/rush offensive attack.

Echoes of Don Quixote

Last week, when we were checking out The Golden Ass, I insisted on showing you a bunch of different translations of one of the opening passages. I couldn't help myself! I don't know much about translation -- I don't even properly have a second language -- but I think the attempt to render meaning from one language to another is fascinating.

So fascinating that back in the Don Quixote days, after seeing all the hullabaloo about how the Grossman translation (the one I read) was slicker than snot, I ordered a bunch of different versions from the Library for comparison. And having gone to that work, it would be selfish for me to keep the fruits of my labor all to myself!

So here, with no further ado, are various translations of the first few lines of Don Quixote. You're welcome.

Edith Grossman, 2003: Somewhere in La Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived not long ago, one of those who has a lance and ancient shield on a shelf and keeps a skinny nag and a greyhound for racing. An occasional stew, beef more often than lamb, hash most nights, eggs and abstinence on Saturdays, lentils on Fridays, sometimes squab as a treat on Sundays – these consumed three-fourths of his income.

Samuel Putnam, 1949: In a village of La Mancha the name of which I have no desire to recall, there lived not so long ago one of those gentlemen who always have a lance in the rack, an ancient buckler, a skinny nag, and a greyhound for the chase. A stew with more beef than mutton in it, chopped meat for his evening meal, scraps for a Saturday, lentils on Friday, and a young pigeon as a special delicacy for Sunday, went to account for three-quarters of his income.

Charles Jarvis, 1885: Down in a village of La Mancha, the name of which I have no desire to recollect, there lived, not long ago, one of those gentlemen who usually keep a lance upon a rack, an old buckler, a lean horse, and a coursing greyhound. Soup, composed of somewhat more mutton than beef, the fragments served up cold on most nights, lentils on Fridays, collops and eggs on Saturdays, and a pigeon by way of addition on Sundays, consumed three-fourths of his income….

Peter Motteux, 1712: At a certain Village in La Mancha, which I shall not name, there liv’d not long ago one of those old-fashion’d Gentlemen who are never without a Lance upon a Rack, an old Target, a lean Horse, and a Greyhound. His Diet consisted more of Beef than Mutton; and with minc’d Meat on most Nights, Lentils on Fridays, Eggs and Bacon on Saturdays, and a Pigeon extraordinary on Sundays, he consumed three Quarters of his Revenue…

A 1910 edition, also claiming to be the Motteux translation: At a certain village in La Mancha, of which I cannot remember the name, there lived not long ago one of those old-fashioned gentlemen who are never without a lance upon a rack, an old target, a lean horse, and a greyhound. His diet consisted more of beef than mutton; and with minced meat on most nights, lentils on Fridays, griefs and groans on Saturdays, and a pigeon extraordinary on Sundays, he consumed three-quarters of his revenue….

Tobias Smollett, 1986: In a certain corner of la Mancha, the name of which I do not choose to remember, there lately lived one of those country gentlemen, who adorn their halls with a rusty lance and worm-eaten target, and ride forth on the skeleton of a horse, to course with a sort of a starved greyhound.
Three fourths of his income were scarce sufficient to afford a dish of hodge-podge, in which the mutton bore no proportion to the beef, for dinner; a plate of salmagundy, commonly at supper; gripes and grumblings on Saturdays, lentils on Fridays, and the addition of a pigeon or some such thing on the Lord’s-day.


And, why not, here's the first sentence of the twelfth chapter:


Grossman: At this moment another young man approached , one of those who brought the goatherds provisions from the village, and he said: “Friends, do you know what has happened in town?”

Putnam: Just then, another lad came up, one of those who brought the goatherds their provisions from the village. “Do you know what’s happening down there, my friends?” he said.

Jarvis: Soon after this there arrived another young lad, laden with provisions from the village. “Comrades,” said he, “do you know what is passing in the village?”

Motteux: A young Fellow, who us’d to bring ‘em Provisions from the next Village, happen’d to come while this was doing, and addressing himself to the Goat-herds, Hark ye, Friends, said he, d’ye hear the News?

Motteux II: The same, but with the capitalization under control.

Smollet: In the mean time, one of the lads who brought them victuals from the village, entering the hut,* said, “Do you know what has happened in our town, comrades?”


* The "hut"? Where did the HUT come from all of a sudden? Awesome.

The Great Movies: "City Lights"

City Lights
Charlie Chaplin, 1931

Charlie Chaplin is one of those important entertainers that all Americans know about. But in my case, I just know about him from books; I don't know if it's the same way for other people, or if he is or was a regular fixture on off-hours television. Seeing him in a film for the first time was, well, much as I had imagined it might be, which is encouraging evidence that books sometimes get it right.

You could look at City Lights in one of two ways. On one hand, it is a social commentary delivered through silent film. The main supporting characters, a virtuous blind woman and a dissolute young millionaire, fail to respond to the visible markings of the shabby tramp's inferior social status, the blind woman because she literally can not see them and the millionaire because he is usually too drunk to notice. Chaplin achieves humor through this disabling of class semiotics, but he also confronts us with our own reactions to material social markers.

Or, you can see City Lights as a long sequence of sight gags and slapstick physical routines connected and justified by a thin tissue of random and rather hackneyed plotting. Happily, the two interpretations are not mutually exclusive.

Plot: So, he's smitten with the blind girl, and wants to help with her financial problems. The millionaire is his best friend when drunk, but always has the servants run him off the premises once he sobers up. He is able to milk his drunken pal for a while, but then has to turn to legitimate work, then to less legitimate work. I won't give away the ending, but I'll reassure you that they didn't have the virtuous disabled romantic heroine die horribly of starvation in the gutter.

Visuals: The content of the visuals is often terrific; the sets are cleverly and lovingly crafted, and the physical gags are immaculately choreographed. A boxing match (see "random plotting," above) in which Chaplin synchronizes his footwork to keep the referee in between him and his opponent is particularly brilliant. Maybe I'll see if I can find it on the YouTubes for ya. Here it is!

The visuals do not seem especially stunning from a technical standpoint, but then that's usually the case with comedy.

Dialog: Silence!

Prognosis: This is an easy film to watch for its technical mastery and as an representative of its period and genre. As an entertainment for today's viewer, however, its silent charms are rather on the thin side. The fact that it has a little meat on its bones, unfortunately, actually renders it a bit less accessible today, when we feel some need for actual dialogue to clarify movie relationships. The most immediately entertaining silent movie in this project was The General, Buster Keaton's long and thrilling train chase, which still works because train chases aren't real chatty. Whereas miming the concept of "I'm nervous about my deteriorating relationship with the millionaire in that it will impact my ability to keep the blind girl I have a crush on in rent money," although impressive if you are a Charlie Chaplin and can pull it off, is just not especially interesting when there are dramatic alternatives.

The Monday Quiz LXXXVI

Great Lakes!

1. It's the biggest lake in South America! And, uh, the world's "highest navigable lake." Seriously, it's at 12,500 feet, and has commercial boat traffic.



2. It's in the United States....

3. Name 'em. All five of 'em. Go.



4. It's the deepest freshwater lake in the world and has by far the greatest water volume -- something like a fifth of the world's fresh surface water, deep in the heart of Eurasia.



5. It's the second deepest and has the second greatest water volume. Somebody's got to be Number Two.

Submit your answers in the comments.