Acclaimed and depressive, this Luis Buñuel film from his Mexican period is a rare example of the great man begging for admiration. Not that NAZARIN doesn’t earn it, just surprising to see him ask. Taken from a Benito Pérez Galdós novel about a wandering priest (leading man handsome Francisco Rabal) who serves the poor thru his own suffering & denial, the character is as close to Cervantes/Don Quixote as to the Gospel’s Jesus, and living proof that no good deed goes unpunished. It’s not even clear if his actions help more than they hurt once he leaves his city hovel (where everything he possesses is either given away or taken) to roam the countryside begging for sustenance and helping out when he can. And such a host of problems he finds!; painted prostitutes needing guidance, plague sufferers needing comfort, dying children needing his blessing. At one stop, he seems to facilitate a miraculous cure, at another he gets into trouble with military officers. Accompanied against his will by a pair of reformed tarts, would-be acolytes who follow his every footstep, as well as a dwarf who’s following one of the tarts, he’s soon arrested by soldiers who march him off to . . . where? He’s ultimately given a pineapple by a passing peasant which he cradles like a child. Shot in the most straightforward manner imaginable, this tale of appallingly wasted religious nobility is undoubtedly essential Buñuel, but without much straw in the loam.
DOUBLE-BILL: Buñuel feels more fully himself in the saintly absurdity that is SIMON OF DESERT/’65.
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