Viridiana's recent BBFC classification was a '15' certificate, rendering it mature enough only for anyone over the age of 15. I suppose that is a true testament as to how well Viridiana has held up over the decades; the fact a film from the early 1960s, when censorship was not as relaxed as it is now, can get re-released and still get slapped with a censorship rating on par with stuff like the second Terminator film and Saving Private Ryan. Even the director's own 1950 film entitled Los Olvidados got a '12' certificate in 2007, a film that I would consider a tad more disturbing than Viridiana. Such is the power, I suppose, and such is the controversy Viridiana still carries – a film that was banned in Spain until 1977 when the last remnants of Franco's reign as Spain's ruler was occurring, but additionally disowned by the Vatican church.
But Francisco Franco was never a big fan of Luis Buñuel anyway, to the point Buñuel had to flee the country. Viridiana was one of only very few films Buñuel ever made in Spain, but it was hated enough by said agents to get it banned and loved enough by others for it to win the 1961 Palme d'Or in Cannes. The film itself, with all this aura and history, is a curious beast. It's a film that makes great use of certain filmic 'spaces' and studies them accordingly; a film that dips in and out of horror, great melodrama and taboo romance whilst having it all play out within a very ominous and large Gothic house that consistently houses some really rather slimy characters.
It is Buñuel's attack on religion in general that attracted most of the criticisms, although at the very core of the film is a young and very religious character whose name is of the title; that being Viridiana (Pinal). As a nun, it's the tearing out of the religious space she should be inhabiting and putting her through an emotional grinder that attracts the early attention; a rendering her of the 'everyday' type – an event that forces her to drop her religious life and place her someplace else that raises the most eyebrows. The girl in question is Viridiana, a young female nun visiting her uncle in a remote manor house in rural Spain. The uncle is Don Jaime (Rey), a man who, when taking about the house in which he lives in, mentions its overgrown grounds and uncleaned interior in the same casual breath as he does loneliness and potential mental illness. It is not down to bad acting or bad delivery; it is a sly inclusion of something as trivial as un-kept grounds mixed in with heartfelt confessions of a man near to suicide.
Part of the mind games in Viridiana is its establishing of a central character in Don Jaime before branching out into something else altogether. The eeriness and disturbance of Don Jaime's actions builds in a neat but very unnerving hierarchy, mentioning that she looks like what his wife looked like before she died before trying to convince her to try on the wedding dress she wore the day they were married; during which you can see the lust in Jaime's face as he asks her. What follows is a marriage proposal, before an attempted escape on Viridiana's behalf and then the supposed rape of Viridiana.
Naturally, she leaves utterly disgusted but is forced to return to the manor house upon news of Don Jaime's fate. From here, the film opens up into something else – it becomes a film where Viridiana runs the house with Don Jaime's son Jorge (Ribal), and his own partner named Lucia (Zinny). Viridiana, in a kind state of mind, offers several poor and diseased people the chance to live on the grounds as well, but not in the house. Later on though, these poor people will inhabit the house. It is a haunting passage of events during which they are inhabiting a space unbeknown to them; a rich space in which the poor are now at home in. I could pluck some wild examples out of the air in regards to 'rich' spaces being inhabited by those we do not expect to see inhabiting them; anything from a particular episode of television show The Simpsons in which two carnival workers squat in the family of the show's title's home to 2005 Bruce Willis vehicle 'Hostage', in which three individuals, established to be of a poorer variety, take over a post-modern cliff-side villa.
Both these examples, as well as Viridiana, carry a certain menace to them; the predicament that things are where they don't belong and are running free without rules. This resides when you watch Viridiana. I wouldn't say the predicaments were 'uncanny' in any way but they carry a fascinating ingredient this side of menace. It is additionally, during this segment, the infamous 'Last Supper' scene is played out, as these filthy individuals re-enact the famous painting and play the roles of the disciples as well as Jesus himself. Just like in said examples, the poor in Viridiana examine the tables and exquisite furniture in the house; they touch the table clothes and poke around – alienated and confused but with their curiosity aroused all the same. The finale to Viridiana is a further jolt out of the blue, a desperate situation that needs to be resolved very quickly and quite brutally. As an historic piece, Viridina works wonders and as a piece by itself, it is equally fascinating.
But Francisco Franco was never a big fan of Luis Buñuel anyway, to the point Buñuel had to flee the country. Viridiana was one of only very few films Buñuel ever made in Spain, but it was hated enough by said agents to get it banned and loved enough by others for it to win the 1961 Palme d'Or in Cannes. The film itself, with all this aura and history, is a curious beast. It's a film that makes great use of certain filmic 'spaces' and studies them accordingly; a film that dips in and out of horror, great melodrama and taboo romance whilst having it all play out within a very ominous and large Gothic house that consistently houses some really rather slimy characters.
It is Buñuel's attack on religion in general that attracted most of the criticisms, although at the very core of the film is a young and very religious character whose name is of the title; that being Viridiana (Pinal). As a nun, it's the tearing out of the religious space she should be inhabiting and putting her through an emotional grinder that attracts the early attention; a rendering her of the 'everyday' type – an event that forces her to drop her religious life and place her someplace else that raises the most eyebrows. The girl in question is Viridiana, a young female nun visiting her uncle in a remote manor house in rural Spain. The uncle is Don Jaime (Rey), a man who, when taking about the house in which he lives in, mentions its overgrown grounds and uncleaned interior in the same casual breath as he does loneliness and potential mental illness. It is not down to bad acting or bad delivery; it is a sly inclusion of something as trivial as un-kept grounds mixed in with heartfelt confessions of a man near to suicide.
Part of the mind games in Viridiana is its establishing of a central character in Don Jaime before branching out into something else altogether. The eeriness and disturbance of Don Jaime's actions builds in a neat but very unnerving hierarchy, mentioning that she looks like what his wife looked like before she died before trying to convince her to try on the wedding dress she wore the day they were married; during which you can see the lust in Jaime's face as he asks her. What follows is a marriage proposal, before an attempted escape on Viridiana's behalf and then the supposed rape of Viridiana.
Naturally, she leaves utterly disgusted but is forced to return to the manor house upon news of Don Jaime's fate. From here, the film opens up into something else – it becomes a film where Viridiana runs the house with Don Jaime's son Jorge (Ribal), and his own partner named Lucia (Zinny). Viridiana, in a kind state of mind, offers several poor and diseased people the chance to live on the grounds as well, but not in the house. Later on though, these poor people will inhabit the house. It is a haunting passage of events during which they are inhabiting a space unbeknown to them; a rich space in which the poor are now at home in. I could pluck some wild examples out of the air in regards to 'rich' spaces being inhabited by those we do not expect to see inhabiting them; anything from a particular episode of television show The Simpsons in which two carnival workers squat in the family of the show's title's home to 2005 Bruce Willis vehicle 'Hostage', in which three individuals, established to be of a poorer variety, take over a post-modern cliff-side villa.
Both these examples, as well as Viridiana, carry a certain menace to them; the predicament that things are where they don't belong and are running free without rules. This resides when you watch Viridiana. I wouldn't say the predicaments were 'uncanny' in any way but they carry a fascinating ingredient this side of menace. It is additionally, during this segment, the infamous 'Last Supper' scene is played out, as these filthy individuals re-enact the famous painting and play the roles of the disciples as well as Jesus himself. Just like in said examples, the poor in Viridiana examine the tables and exquisite furniture in the house; they touch the table clothes and poke around – alienated and confused but with their curiosity aroused all the same. The finale to Viridiana is a further jolt out of the blue, a desperate situation that needs to be resolved very quickly and quite brutally. As an historic piece, Viridina works wonders and as a piece by itself, it is equally fascinating.