My first Spanish film: Jamón, jamón (Bigas Luna, 1992)

Javier Bardem, Penélope Cruz, and Jordi Mollá on set in 1991

   I wanted to write something to mark the first anniversary of the blog. I was in half a mind to write about the film that this blog takes its name from (Mateo Gil's Nadie conoce a nadie), but on balance decided that writing about the first Spanish film I ever watched was a better fit to the occasion. By happy coincidence, Jamón, jamón also celebrates a significant anniversary this year: it was released twenty years ago in Spain (in September 1992).

One Year Ago...

   One year ago today I took a leap into the unknown and started writing Nobody Knows Anybody. Sixty-six films and an Almodóvathon later, here we are.

   I don't know that the blog has turned out quite the way that I envisaged, but it has fulfilled its primary function of getting me writing again and kickstarting my brain. I haven't posted as many in-depth pieces as I originally intended (mainly due to my acquiring a (temporary) second job last September), but the blog has made me re-engage with film and probably also caused me to watch a broader variety of films than may otherwise have been the case. Although the shorter posts (either in the Random Viewing strand or short(ish) considerations of particular films) are likely to be the norm for the time being (my current work commitments last at least until the end of June), in the last few months I have started thinking about ideas for longer, more academic, pieces -thinking is as far as I've got in most instances due to lack of time, but just getting to that stage is a major step forward from where I was this time last year. It's exciting to experience the thrill of having an idea again -and to actually want to think something through and see where I can take it. [Although at the moment there is also an element of frustration due to the combination of my two shift patterns not being particularly conducive to anything that requires sustained thinking] I don't know whether these ideas will pan out, or whether they will end up on here -although some of them have already been mentioned in passing because they relate to things that I've said that I'm going to write that then haven't materialised- but it seems likely that they'll put in an appearance in some way because the ideas have sparked because of things I've watched or read to write about for Nobody Knows Anybody. Either way, writing this blog has been a constructive thing for me to do and I intend to keep it up.

   The other intention with Nobody Knows Anybody was to start a conversation in English about Spanish cinema. I haven't been overly successful on that side of things (although my heartfelt thanks to those of you who have either commented on here or chatted to me on twitter), but I don't feel too downcast about it because I can see that the posts are being read and visitor numbers have been steadily increasing. Someone once told me that a study had revealed that the average journal article takes six months to write and is then read by an average of two people (factor in that one of those is likely to be your mother, and that's not exactly a wide audience) -if I thought I was posting stuff into an abyss, I might feel differently, but that isn't the case. So thanks for stopping by!

   Anyway, this is just a short post to mark Nobody Knows Anybody's first birthday. On a similar theme, I thought that later in the week I might post something about the first Spanish film I ever saw (I'll keep you in suspense as to what it was / is. Clue: it is twenty years old this year).

Blackthorn (Mateo Gil, 2011)

Director: Mateo Gil.

Screenwriter: Miguel Barros.

Cast: Sam Shepard, Eduardo Noriega, Stephen Rea, Magaly Solier, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Padraic Delaney, Dominique McElligott.

Blackthorn was among the first films I mentioned on this blog, so it seems appropriate that as Nobody Knows Anybody approaches its first birthday (next week) that I should finally get to see the film.

   The starting point for Blackthorn (full title Blackthorn, sin destino / Blackthorn, without destiny -a reference to the Spanish title for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid -Dos hombres y un destino / Two Men and One Destiny) is the 'what if?' scenario of 'what if Butch and Sundance did not die in the shootout with the Bolivian army?' (there is evidence to suggest that that was the case). So we revisit Butch Cassidy, now with the alias James Blackthorn, after he has spent the best part of two decades breeding horses in the Bolivian mountains. I think that the location is a central part of the success of the film as it allows them to use the well-worn and cosily-familiar tropes of the Western but rework them in an unfamiliar setting; the lush green vegetation of the mountains and dazzling white of the salt flats (and the colours that come with them) are a world away from the usual dust-strewn landscapes of the traditional Western. The film is also beautifully shot: this is a film that deserves to be seen on as big a screen as possible to fully appreciate the way in which the characters are dwarfed by the vastness of the landscape. Gil has managed to make a film that feels intimate but plays out on a stage of awe-inspiring proportions.

   James Blackthorn has decided that it is time for him to return to the US; he sells his horses and empties his life savings from his bank account. But not long into his journey he is attacked by a man, Eduardo (Eduardo Noriega), who believes Blackthorn to be one of a group of men who has been pursuing him; in the ensuing scuffle Blackthorn's horse flees, taking 'my whole life' with him. When Eduardo explains that the men are pursuing him because he has robbed a local mine (he worked there as an engineer), and that he will replace Blackthorn's money if he helps him get to where he has hidden the money, Blackthorn seemingly has no option. The problem is that in the intervening years, while Blackthorn has been quietly living in isolation, the world has moved on in ways that he does not fully comprehend until it is too late; he misreads situations and people because he is still living in the past and the 'old' way of doing things. 

   Shepard makes the character his own (it probably helps that so much time is meant to have passed) and carries the film with ease. He is the only American in the cast -for financial reasons the majority of the cast had to be European. In the 'making of', Gil says that he wanted Eduardo Noriega for the role of the Spanish engineer because of the contrasting qualities of innocence and darkness that he brings, which lend the character ambiguity and put a question-mark over his trustworthiness (this is a key aspect of Noriega's star persona but it is also difficult to imagine Gil casting anyone else in the role given their history together). Stephen Rea wanders through the film almost like an escapee from a Graham Greene novel, first as a Pinkerton detective in pursuit of Butch and Sundance (there are flashbacks with different actors playing the younger Butch when he was still with Sundance) and then in the present in a kind of retirement as an Honorary Consul in a godforsaken town in the middle of nowhere. The film uses a mixture of English and Spanish in a naturalistic (and logical -the only conversations entirely in English are between Blackthorn and MacKinley (Rea), and those between Blackthorn and Eduardo switch back and forth between English and Spanish) fashion. The use of language is one of a series of contrasts that the film sets up along different themes (Bolivia / The US, the Indians / Gringos, 19th century / 20th century, and so on) and that I may revisit at some point in the future.

   Overall, this is a handsome production and a nostalgic elegy to the romantic ideals of the Old West. It was released on DVD in Spain at the start of January (and is also available in Region 1).  

Man made small by the vastness of nature (Blackthorn and Eduardo on horseback on the right of frame)

The Goya Awards 2012: the nominations

The nominations for the 2012 Goya Awards were announced on Tuesday morning: Pedro Almodóvar and Enrique Urbizu lead the pack with 16 nominations for La piel que habito and 14 for No habrá paz para los malvados respectively. Of the other two Best Film nominees, Blackthorn has 11 nominations and La voz dormida has 9. The dark horse is Eva (a directorial debut that appeared on my radar only when it was released at the tail-end of last year) with 12 nominations. According to what I've read elsewhere, Urbizu has the edge over Almodóvar and likewise Coronado appears to be the favourite for Best Actor (although Banderas has never won a Goya, so that may be an emotional pull in his favour). With the exception of Best Female Newcomer (widely thought to already be in the bag for María León), the other acting categories are harder to call. As I haven't seen a lot of the films yet, it is hard for me to say where the surprises are, although given the hype surrounding certain films there are some surprising omissions (for example, No tengas miedo and Cinco metros cuadrados have had a lot of awards buzz in the past few months). The ceremony takes place on the 19th February. The nominees in the main categories are listed below.

Best Film:

Blackthorn

La piel que habito

La voz dormida

No habrá paz para los malvados

Ten Spanish Films Due to Arrive in 2012

Blancanieves

These are films that were in production last year (or are in production at the moment), so I'm hoping that they will be released this year (although there is a film on the list that I thought would be out in 2011, so this isn't foolproof logic). These are the films that have caught my eye and piqued my interest -I may hear of others as the year goes on, but at the start of 2012 this is a good list to be getting on with. In many cases I don't know that much about the plot aside from an idea as to the genre; the people (directors, actors, or a combination of the two) involved are generally what has attracted my attention. Quite a few of them are due for release in the first few months of the year, so I may do an update post (or a ‘Part Two’) later in 2012. 

[Note: If the title translation appears in square brackets then it is my (literal) translation -translations without brackets are the productions' official English-language titles]

Blancanieves [Snow White] (dir. Pablo Berger)

Cast: Maribel Verdú, Macarena García, Sofia Oria, Daniel Giménez Cacho, Pere Ponce, Ángela Molina.

Silent Melodrama. There are several US retellings of the Snow White story due for release in 2012, but this one is set in 1930s Madrid and is filmed in black and white. Oh, and it's silent as well (with a score by Alberto Iglesias) -they are planning to take the film on a tour of Spanish theatres accompanied by an orchestra. Above is one of the first images of Maribel Verdú as the evil stepmother -more photos (including the one at the top of the post) can be found on the film's Facebook page. It looks like a ravishingly beautiful film. Due for release in March.

Extraterrestre / Extraterrestrial (dir. Nacho Vigalondo)

Cast: Julián Villagrán, Michelle Jenner, Carlos Areces.

Sci-fi Romcom. This appeared on last year's 'to watch' list but only appeared at film festivals -it is due for release in Spain in March 2012 (and will hopefully get a release here later in the year).

Grupo 7 [Group 7] (dir. Alberto Rodríguez)

Cast: Antonio de la Torre, Mario Casas, Joaquin Núñez, Inma Cuesta, Julián Villagrán.

Action Drama.  Seville, 1980s. From what I've heard so far, this might be Training Day a la española: a new officer (Casas) joins an established police drug task-force dominated by an officer (de la Torre) who doesn't play by the rulebook. The teaser trailer can be found on the film’s official blog. Due for release in April.

Katmandú, un espejo en el cielo / Katmandu, a mirror in the sky (dir. Icíar Bollaín)

Cast: Verónica Echegui

Drama. A young Catalan woman travels to Nepal to teach English and is changed by what she finds. She in turn changes the lives of those around her. The majority of Bollaín's films prioritise the female POV and centre on strong women -this is very appealing to me. I also think that Echegui is a star on the rise, and am interested to see what the pair achieve working together. Due for release in February.

La chispa de la vida / As Luck Would Have It (dir. Álex de la Iglesia)

Cast: José Mota, Salma Hayek, Fernando Tejero, Blanca Portillo, Juan Luis Galiardo.

Comedy. A media circus centres on an advertising exec (Mota) who is stuck in a life and death situation (judging from the trailer, this is partly of his own making). With no-one in agreement as to how to move him without killing him, he decides to take the media's money for exclusive coverage so that he can at least guarantee his family's economic future -I'd imagine that the situation deteriorates from then on. As I said in the Random Viewing post that featured Balada triste de trompeta, that film seems like a culmination of certain aspects of de la Iglesia's work; I'm intrigued to see where he has gone next with this new film. Due for release 3rd January.

La montaña rusa [The Russian Mountain] (dir. Emilio Martínez-Lázaro)

Cast: Verónica Sánchez, Ernesto Alterio, Alberto San Juan.

Romcom. Three childhood friends (two male, one female) reencounter each other many years later -a love triangle develops. I enjoyed the El otro lado de la cama films, and this reunites many of the same team.

Las Olas / The Waves (dir. Alberto Morais)

Cast: Carlos Álvarez-Nóvoa, Laia Marull, Armando Aguire, Sergio Caballero.

Drama. A road trip film of sorts as an 80-year-old man (Álvarez-Nóvoa) sets off on a journey into his past after the death of his wife; a film about memory, loss, and coming to terms with the past. I first heard mention of it when it played at the London Film Festival last autumn -it's due a commercial release in Spain in January.

Silencio en la nieve [Silence in the Snow] (dir. Gerardo Herrero)

Cast: Juan Diego Botto, Carmelo Gómez, Jordi Aguilar, Víctor Clavijo, Sergi Calleja, Francesc Orella, Adolfo Fernández, Andrés Gertrudix, Manu Hernández, Javier Mejía. 

Historical Thriller. Set in the Winter of 1943 and the hunt for a serial killer amongst the 'División Azul', the Spanish military volunteers allowed by Franco to fight alongside the German Army on the Russian Front. Trailer. Due for release in January.

Todo es silencio [Everything is Silence] (dir. José Luis Cuerda)

Cast: Quim Gutiérrez, Miguel Ángel Silvestre, Celia Frejeiro, Juan Diego.

Thriller, based on the novel by Manuel Rivas. Cuerda supposedly retired after his last film, the excellent Los girasoles ciegos / The Blind Sunflowers (2008), but he's back with this story set against the backdrop of drug-trafficking and its impact (of the 'see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil' variety) on a small coastal town. Childhood friends find themselves on opposite sides of the law in adulthood, and in love with the same woman.... [no images as yet].

Una pistola en cada mano [A Pistol in Each Hand] (dir. Cesc Gay)

Cast: Eduardo Noriega, Leonor Watling, Luis Tosar, Javier Cámara, Candela Peña, Eduard Fernández, Alberto San Juan, Clara Segura.

Comedy. I've seen few story details so far, but it appears to be a comedy about the modern man. Gay's Ficción (2007) is one my favourite films from recent years and this has to be one of the best cast lists of the year. [no images as yet].

Ten Spanish Films from 2011 To See In 2012:

As I said in my 'Best of the Year'-type post before Christmas, I tend to see Spanish films the year after their initial release when they become available on DVD. Here is a selection of those that I've been reading about during the past year and hope to get my hands on in the coming months.

Blackthorn (Mateo Gil, 2011)

Cast: Sam Shepard, Eduardo Noriega, Stephen Rea, Magaly Solier.

Trailer

This appeared in my 'Spanish films to see in 2011' post last February and is an updating of the Butch Cassidy myth (effectively Butch Cassidy: the later years). Mateo Gil's directorial debut gave this blog its name -I'm (still) eagerly waiting to see his second feature film.

Blog (Elena Trapé, 2011)

Trailer

A cast of unknowns in a story (apparently based on actual events in the US) about a group of teenage girls who set out to all get pregnant at the same time. What Trapé has apparently managed to achieve is a faithful representation of the type of female friendships that during adolescence often seem a stronger bond than family ties. The unusual aspect (and the aspect that intrigues me) is that this tale of sexual awakening is represented through multiple female perspectives, and only female perspectives -there are many male coming-of-age films, but few female ones.  

Catalunya über alles! (Ramon Térmens, 2011)

Trailer

This won the Special Jury Prize at the Málaga Spanish Film Festival in 2011 and I saw much praise of it on twitter at around the same time. It has three stories with overlapping characters that take place in the same village. Beyond that, I only know the scarcest of details......but I'm intrigued. 

Cinco metros cuadrados / Five Square Metres (Max Lemcke, 2011)

Cast: Fernando Tejero, Malena Alterio, Jorge Bosch.

Trailer

Another winner from the 2011 Málaga Spanish Film Festival: Best Film, Best Actor (Tejero), Best Screenplay, Best Supporting Actor (Bosch), and the Critic's Award. Tejero and (to a lesser extent) Alterio are best known for comedic roles but this is a dramatic film set against the Spanish housing crisis. I like it when actors play against 'type', so that alone would be enough to interest me, but the film as a whole has also won a lot of praise. 

Crebinsky (Enrique Otero, 2011)

This seems to have only had a limited release outside of film festivals so far (yet again, it was in dispatches from Málaga last year that I first heard mention of it). Set in 1944, the brothers Crebinsky and their cow live on the Galician coast after being washed away from their village by a flood. Cut off from the world around them they are unaware of the military goings-on in the vicinity, and create their own magic-realist world. The trailer looks a bit like a cross between the work of Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Monty Python.

La voz dormida / The Sleeping Voice (Benito Zambrano, 2011)

Cast: María León, Inma Cuesta, Marc Clotet, Daniel Holguín.

Trailer

Madrid, 1940. The story of female political prisoners in the post-(Civil)War period, focusing on the case of Hortensia (Cuesta), pregnant and condemned to death, and the efforts of her sister Pepita (León) to free her. It has been gathering award attention since it debuted at the San Sebastián Film Festival in September, where María León won Best Actress.

Mientras duermes / Sleep Tight (Jaume Balagueró, 2011)

Cast: Luis Tosar, Marta Etura, Alberto San Juan, Petra Martínez

Thriller. Tosar plays a malevolent caretaker of a block of flats who decides to take out his dissatisfactions on the inhabitants of the building. I've deliberately avoided reading too much about it, but the trailer looks brilliant. I think that there's a strong chance that it will get a UK release.

No controles (Borja Cobeaga, 2011)

Cast: Unax Ugalde, Alexandra Jiménez, Julián López, Secun de la Rosa, Miguel Ángel Muñoz.

Trailer

Because Cobeaga's first film, Pagafantas (2009), an anthropological take on rejection, made me cry with laughter. 

No habrá paz para los malvados / No Rest for the Wicked (Enrique Urbizu, 2011)

Cast: José Coronado, Julio Perillán, Karim El-Kerem, Helena Miquel.

Trailer

Thriller. This would have been on my list of 'films to see in 2011' in my post last February had I known that Urbizu had a new film on the way. Connoisseurs of the thriller genre take note: a Master is back at work. I'm really excited to see this tale of terrorism, drugs, and police corruption, especially as it reunites the director with José Coronado (apparently on barnstorming form) for the third time.

No tengas miedo (Montxo Armendáriz, 2011)

Cast: Michelle Jenner, Belén Rueda, Lluís Homar.

Trailer

I missed watching this when it was available on Filmin for a limited period, in part because the subject matter (child abuse) put me off. However, the film continues to be mentioned as a strong awards contender, not least for Michelle Jenner's performance, so I will make sure to catch up with it soon. 

My Top 5 Spanish Films Viewed in 2011

Given that I don't live in Spain, I tend to see films when they're released on DVD; usually a year after their initial cinema release. So, these films aren't all 'from' 2011 but I've limited myself to films that were released in Spanish cinemas in either 2011 or 2010. This top 5 is comprised of films that I viewed this year and wrote about on the blog -either as standalone posts, or as part of the Random Viewing thread.

1. Primos (Daniel Sánchez Arévalo, 2011)

A warm hug of a film -the affection that writer-director Daniel Sánchez Arévalo has for his characters is infectious. The collection of actors (Quim Gutierrez, Antonio de la Torre, Raúl Arévalo) who are becoming his de facto repertory company also form (along with Adrián Lastra, Inma Cuesta, and Clara Lago) one of the best ensemble casts of the year.

2. Pa negre (Agustí Villaronga, 2010)

A dark and otherworldly tale of innocence lost. A child's eye view of adult deceit and destruction. One of the most brutal opening sequences I can remember ever watching.

3. La mitad de Óscar (Manuel Martín Cuenca, 2011)

Probably one of the most atmospheric films I saw this year (in any language); it makes distinctive use of the landscape / geographic space and also assuredly cranks up the tension (we know that something is being pointedly ignored by the two siblings (bravura performances from Rodrigo Sáenz de Heredia and Verónica Echegui) but it hovers just out of sight for most of the film). It builds to a quietly devastating final scene between the two siblings that plays out in one long take with them in silhouette as the sun rises behind them: a strong contender for scene of the year, in my opinion (I saw the film back in September and it is still stuck in my mind).

4. Todas las canciones hablan de mí (Jonás Trueba, 2010)

A brilliant comedic romantic drama -guaranteed to put a spring in your step. I will hopefully write something longer about it in the New Year (it has only been briefly covered in a Random Viewing post so far).

5. Balada triste de trompeta (Álex de la Iglesia, 2010)

Not quite as batshit insane as the trailer makes out but nonetheless full of vivid imagery that scorches your retina and refuses to leave your mind (along with that song, which I have been humming ever since). Whatever your opinion of the overall whole (people seem to be divided between hating it or declaring it a masterpiece), I'd hope that most would have at least a glimmer of admiration for a writer-director going this 'all out'. Plaudits also go to the three leads -Carlos Areces, Antonio de la Torre, and Carolina Bang- the film wouldn't work if they weren't all committed to their roles, or if one performance overwhelmed the other two. The film will hopefully have a standalone post early in the New Year.

Honourable mentions: La mosquitera (Agustí Vila, 2010), Chico y Rita (Fernando Trueba & Javier Mariscal, 2011), Agnosia (Eugenio Mira, 2010), Flamenco Flamenco (Carlos Saura, 2010), La piel que habito (Pedro Almodóvar, 2011), La mujer sin piano (Javier Rebollo, 2010) and Héroes (Pau Freixas, 2010).

Films from 2010* that I still need to track down: Bon appétit (David Pinillos, 2010), El Gran Vázquez (Óscar Aibar, 2010), La isla interior (Dunia Ayaso & Félix Sabroso, 2010), Pájaros de papel (Emilio Aragón, 2010), Que se mueran los feos (Nacho G. Velilla, 2010), También la lluvia (Icíar Bollaín, 2010), Todo lo que tú quieras (Achero Mañas, 2010). *films from 2011 that I still need to track down will appear in a forthcoming post.

Films that didn't fit the 2010 / 2011 criteria but that you should definitely see: Los cronocrímenes (Nacho Vigalondo, 2007), Salto al vacio (Daniel Calparsoro, 1995), La madre muerta (Juanma Bajo Ulloa, 1993 -I wrote two posts on this one –here and here), Nadie hablará de nosotras cuando hayamos muerto (Agustín Díaz Yanes, 1995 -a longer post on this one will appear in 2012), and Entre tinieblas (Pedro Almodóvar, 1983).

Hero of the Year: Filmin -without this Spanish streaming service I would have seen far fewer recent Spanish films (I first saw three of my top 5 via their service, and a further 4 of the honourable mentions) simply because of how expensive it is to import DVDs. I am also more likely to take a 'risk' on films that I know little about -as was the case with La mitad de Óscar- when using an all-included subscription service, which broadens the variety of films that this blog covers and hopefully makes it a bit more interesting.

I’ll be taking a break from the blog between Christmas and New Year –I’ll be back in January with posts on films from 2011 that I still want to catch up with, and on the Spanish films due for release in 2012 that I’m most interested in.

Merry Christmas –and I’ll ‘see’ you in 2012!

Not-So-Random-Viewing: Álex de la Iglesia Edition

Clockwise from top left: Balada triste de trompeta / The Last Circus (Álex de la Iglesia, 2010), 800 balas / 800 Bullets (Álex de la Iglesia, 2002), The Oxford Murders (Álex de la Iglesia, 2008), El día de la bestia / Day of the Beast (Álex de la Iglesia, 1995).

   Balada triste de trompeta featured in one of my first posts on this blog as one of the films from last year that I most wanted to catch up with in 2011. I'm going to write a standalone post about the film in (hopefully) January -I need to watch it again before attempting to write anything of any decent length and I won't have the time until after Christmas. [I know I quite often say that and things still haven't materialised, but Nadie hablará de nosotras cuando hayamos muerto and a joint post about Los lunes al sol and Biutiful are still percolating in my brain, honest].
   However, on first impressions it strikes me as a culmination of de la Iglesia's work to date and it will be interesting to see where he has gone with his next film, La chispa de la vida (due for release in Spain in January); Balada triste de trompeta almost feels like an end point in terms of certain themes that recur across the director's work. It is unmistakably 'an Álex de la Iglesia film' in terms of the vividness and inventiveness of the imagery and an extremity of violence that takes on an almost cartoon-like quality; this is filmmaking that is by turns both exhilarating and highly disturbing. The circus is the perfect setting for the lunacy, violence, dark humour, and cruelty that run through de la Iglesia's films; given the miscreants, misfits, and malcontents who populate his films, it is almost a surprise that he hasn't set a story in this world before (although several of his films take place within an entertainment setting -a television comedy double-act in Muertos de risa and a Western sideshow spectacle in 800 balas).
   It was the sense that Balada represents a culmination of his work that made me watch the only two of his films that I hadn't seen previously: 800 balas and The Oxford Murders. 800 balas is in many ways a paean to cinema, filmmaking, and the type of films 'they don't make anymore'. The film takes place on old film sets in Almeria (the location for many Westerns filmed in the 1950s/60s, including Sergio Leone's Dollars trilogy) where a former stuntman (Sancho Gracia) reenacts his glory days with a gang of reprobates as they stage a 'Western sideshow' for the dwindling number of visiting tourists. It is a warm tribute to a world that no longer exists. I had two surprises watching The Oxford Murders -1) that it was nowhere near as bad as the UK reviews had led me to believe, and 2) how little of de la Iglesia's normal visual style it contained; it was as if the tepid English sunlight had diluted his usual visual dazzling.
   Then I decided to rewatch El día de la bestia because it is my favourite of his films (and one of my favourite films, full stop) - and as it takes place on Christmas Eve it seemed appropriately festive (insofar as a film about a priest (Alex Angulo), a TV psychic / paranormal expert (Armando de Razza), and a death-metal fan (Santiago Segura) attempting to stop the birth of the Antichrist can be 'festive'). I've never understood why it isn't available in the UK (likewise his Carmen Maura-starring La comunidad (2000)) given that several of his other films are, and it currently also seems to be OOP in Spain. If you get the chance to see it, do so -it is very funny and a deeply affectionate take on the horror film.

Another Book Added

Mira, A. (2010) -The A-Z of Spanish Cinema, Plymouth: The Scarecrow Press, Inc. ISBN: 9780810876224.

The merits of A-Z type compendiums have always appeared somewhat dubious to me as they usually tend towards the simplistic and obvious (although Routledge's Key Concepts series, which operates along similar lines, has always been excellent). Happily that is not the case here. I haven't come across The Scarecrow Press's A-Z series previously, but it covers a broad range of subjects -this book is no.244 in the series (nestled in between The A-Z of U.S. diplomacy from World War I through World War II and The A-Z of the Reformation and Counter-Reformation).

The book starts with a chronology of Spanish cinema between 1896 and 2008, then has a fairly substantial introductory chapter before moving onto the dictionary proper. The dictionary includes entries on key films, themes (including specifically Spanish terms such as costumbrismo), directors, writers, producers, and actors. I think it benefits from being the work of just one person because it feels like a unified whole with a consistent viewpoint and entries cross-referencing other entries. One can always quibble with what gets left out but actually the balance is pretty evenly struck between old and modern classics, and the range of individuals covered also feels varied (there is a mix of generations, but all are established names). But I think that the crowning glory is the 94-page bibliography. It is the most extensive and exhaustive bibliography on Spanish cinema that I've ever come across; I've been seeking these things out for years and this bibliography is seriously impressive (If you're the type of person who is impressed by bibliographies. Which I am). The bibliography is divided into several sections (some items appear in more than section): General and Reference; Origins and Silent Years (1896-1931); Republican Period and the Civil War (1931-1939); Early Francoism (1939-1960); The Desarrollismo Period and Late Francoism (1961-1975); Transition Period and Socialist Change (1975-1990); Recent Spanish Cinema (from 1990); Specific Filmmakers; Legislation and Economy; Autonomous Regions; Journals; Internet Sites. I've been merrily filling in Inter-Library Loan request forms ever since this book arrived through the post. If you're researching / interested in specific periods of Spanish cinema, or specific Spanish filmmakers, this book would be an excellent starting point.

Recommended.  

This will be added to Books on Spanish Cinema, Part Two 

Spain Made Flesh: Penélope Cruz and La niña de tus ojos (Fernando Trueba, 1998)

      The stardom of Penélope Cruz can be dated precisely as beginning in 1992 with the release of Jamón jamón (Bigas Luna, 1992) and Belle epoque (Fernando Trueba, 1992). The two films side by side encapsulate two facets of her star image; on the one hand, Cruz’s position as what Eugenia de la Torriente describes as the ‘mito erótico nacional’ [‘national erotic myth’] (2004: 38) as Silvia in Jamón jamón, and on the other, the virginal ideal in the character of Luz in Belle epoque. But they also caused her to debut on the national stage in two films that either consciously questioned and parodied Spanish identities or conflated contemporary Spain with Spain’s past; Cruz’s emergence at a time when Spanish identity was openly being discussed and Spain was actively (and publicly) trying to redefine itself has shaped the form and content of her stardom, the ways in which she interacts with the national, and the image of Spanishness that she represents as an end result. From the outset of her career, Penélope Cruz has also been constructed as a star who specifically ‘belongs’ to Spain: a number of Spanish female stars have emerged in the last twenty years but none are so possessively claimed as she. Cruz is commonly referred to in the Spanish press as ‘nuestra Penélope’ [‘our Penélope’] and her star image is presented as signifying innate aspects of Spanish womanhood, and she is seen as embodying Spain, or ‘España hecha carne’ [‘Spain made flesh’] in the words of director Bigas Luna (Trashorras 1999: 132).
      Peter Evans notes how many daughters she has played onscreen and describes her as ‘la “niña”, es decir, la de todos los espectadores, la de toda España, a la que se refieren a menudo como “nuestra Penélope”’ [‘the little girl, that is to say, that of all the spectators, that of all of Spain, she who they refer to at least as “our Penélope”’] (2004: 54-55). This is further emphasised by the roles that are located within a specifically Spanish context: the arrival of the Second Republic in Belle epoque; incarcerated as a ‘political subversive’ during the last years of the dictatorship in Entre rojas (Azucena Rodríguez, 1995); a ‘gran estrella’ recalling Imperio Argentina in La niña de tus ojos / The Girl of Your Dreams (Fernando Trueba, 1998); Goya’s model for ‘La maja vestida’ and ‘La maja desnuda’ in Volavérunt (Bigas Luna, 1999); as well as her short role in the prologue (set during the ‘state of exception’ in 1970) of Carne trémula / Live Flesh (Pedro Almodóvar, 1997). These films position Cruz and her star image within narratives that have cultural and historical significance to Spain and therefore embed her within the cultural imaginary: ‘a nation is nothing without the stories it tells itself about itself’ (Triana-Toribio 2003: 6). This post examines the representation of Penélope Cruz as embodying Spain, specifically in the film La niña de tus ojos, the film for which she won her first Goya for Best Actress in 1999.