“In Fata Morgana, Teresa Gimpera functions as a muse
of this whole generation of creators. She’s the muse of Fata Morgana and of
1960s Barcelona. She was the counter-archetype of the Spanish female model of
the time…”
Angel Sala, Director of the Sitges Film Festival
Film appreciation is like a jigsaw or dominoes or,
indeed, both. I first watched The Exquisite Cadaver (Las Crueles)
(1969) because it featured Judy Matheson – who I’d seen in The Flesh and
Blood Show, Twins of Evil, Blakes Seven and so much more –
and it became one of my favourite films given the sophistication and skill with
which Spanish director Vicente Aranda, produced this most engaging and enigmatic
of stories as well as the performance quality of the four leads. Teresa Gimpera
was one of those four and her recent passing led me into rewatching her
brilliance in The Spirit of the Beehive (1973) and from there to Fata Morgana,
her first film and collaboration with Aranda.
Fata Morgana or Fata/Morgana or Left-Handed
Fate, does not disappoint and helps to explain the broader approach of
Aranda as a leading light of the Barcelona School – a left of centre cultural “opposition”
to the Franco-approved mainstream centred in Madrid. The grouping included many
intellectuals, writers, architects and other creators who would meet in the
bars and cafes of Tuset Street and later the Bocaccio disco, which happened to
be co-owned by successful model, mother and businesswoman, Teresa Gimpera. This
was an artistic resistance as, obviously, direct political action was not yet
possible and the subtext and symbolism of this film, Exquisite Cadaver
and, especially, The Blood-Spattered Bride, enabled Aranda to critique
the state in ways that the censors could not grasp.
This may have been only the Director’s second film but he
knew what he wanted and being a man of means, was able to take chances others
might not. Not only was he casting a non-actress, but the film had also been written
for Gimpera by Gonzalo Suarez, as she attests in the 2015 interview among the
extras of the Mondo Macabro disc. Even in her 80s Teresa had style and charm
and this interview is essential viewing to all followers of Spanish and all
European cinema culture of this period.
Fata Morgana is the Italian translation of Morgan
le Fay of Arthurian legend and it also refers to an Italian mirage, visible in
a narrow band right above the horizon and often seen in the Straits of Messina
as what look like castles hanging in the air. This varied meaning reflects the
film’s own concerns with reality and subjective experience as it wends an unconventional
path from an opening set up showing comic book panels to a story packed full of
so many unreliable narrators that it could even be a modern political party.
There is a reference to a major event in London – such a
swinging influence at the time – which is traumatic but never specified – a nuclear
explosion, a social revolution… a city as a murder victim; all are possible.
Then the action begins with a group of young men heading on the ridge of a hill
overlooking Barcelona to cut the head of a model, Gim (Gimpera!) from an
advertising hording which they then take back to their digs (assuming they are
students?). This begins the director’s commentary on commodification and
commercialism: these lads clearly want to own an image of Gim but maybe they
want to protect her too?
Cut to a professor (the excellent Antonio Ferrandis)
using photographs of murdered women, to illustrate his talk on how some people
are natural victims in search of a murderer. One of the images is of Gim and
the assumption is that she will be the film’s designated victim and we will
explore if her fate can be avoided. But nothing is quite as straightforward as
it might seem. Is the Professor the author of this entire cycle or just an
observer? And who is JJ (Marcos Martí) the man who starts off the film in
cartoon form and being instructed to head off to prevent the designated victim
from her fate.
Gim wanders the deserted streets of Barcelona and is
leered at or otherwise shown interest by the men in the streets all of whom
have an opinion on her plans. It reminds me of the moments in L’avventura
(1960) when Monica Vitti is stared at and menaced by dozens of men in a village
for no other reason than her sex and looks. The influence of the Italians is clear
with this and even Fellini with the helicoptered Christ at the start of La Dolce
Vita being mirrored by the “kidnapping” of Gim’s graven image. The French New
Wave is also an influence from Goddard’s dystopian Alphaville – released
earlier in 1965 - to Truffault’s 400 Blows (1959) and Chris Marker’s remarkable
short 1962 film La Jetée*.
Gim decides to stay in Barcelona and goes to meet her
boyfriend, Álvaro (Alberto Dalbés) who has a surprise guest who is behaving
rather oddly, Miriam (Marianne Benet, a Spanish-born British actress who had featured
in films in both countries) who may or may not be connected with what happened
in London and what might happen in Barcelona… she certainly takes an interest
in a silver fish which contains a retractable blade.
In truth everyone is potentially a murder and many are
possible murderees, the Professor is definitely odd, appearing completely
covered in bandages like the Invisible Man for a meeting with JJ in the middle
of a football ground – perhaps the Nou Camp? Then he has a meeting with Gim in
the park, she sells him cola like a pro and the two sit on a children’s roundabout
as the meaning flows around them.
The film’s a fabulous guide to Barcelona with furtive
walks through the Barri Gòtic showing the bullet holes in ancient walls left by
the street fighting in the Civil War. In her informed audio commentary, film
writer Rachael Nisbet describes the city as a kind of purgatory between reality
and dream within the surreal setting an ambiguous space striving to evade the seeming
inevitability of the roles assigned at the start of the film. But can we take
anyone’s word for what might happen?
Dusty Verdict: The film’s a fascinating ride and
one that will make you want to rewatch and absorb the commentary as well as the
interview with Gimpera. In her first film she is grounded and superbly
confident, containing the mystery that her director has set her to convey and
putting her previous career to good use in modelling the impossible and the
uncertain as casually as she might designer clothes.
Mondo have also released The Blood-Spattered Bride
on Blu-ray and, it would be a dream, if they would do the same for Las Crueles
to complete this trilogy of female fronted mysteries from Aranda. One day!!
*Co-incidence is also a feature of film appreciation and
I only watched this film recently after reading about it in Christopher Priest’s
book, Airside itself about the nature of reality and perception.
Everything is coincidence and connection and I’m sure Vincente Aranda would have
really enjoyed the works of Mr Priest who frequently made the improbable seem
possible.
