Screened November 11, 2009 on Tribanda DVD in Brooklyn NY
TSPDT rank # IMDb Wiki
What is it about Spanish cinema that just nails how people are possessed by dreams and stories? Of course I’m making an overgeneralization, and yet the three Spanish filmmakers that I know best, Bunuel, Almodovar and (sheepishly, based on watching two films) Berlanga, all share an uncommon fascination with the rapture of storytelling. Whether through a voiceover narration or one person telling a tale to another, these films traffic in the private fantasies and urges of characters and audience alike. It’s true in Bunuel’s earliest sound film L’Age D’Or, with its narrative framework disintegrating into a lucid stream of on-screen impulsive acts, or as recently as Almodovar’s Broken Embraces, where much of the film’s pleasure is in just watching characters being transfixed by each other’s stories.
Within this hypothetical national subgenre, Bienvenido, Mister Marshall stands tall. A sleepy Castillan village tries to transform itself into an Andalusian postcard paradise upon hearing that American postwar funders may pass through. The voiceover sets it up like a fable (“There once was an old spanish Town”); the film is not only an allegory for a nation’s collective submission to the utopian facades of Franco’s Fascist Spain, but to the countermyth of America, which pervades the characters’ dreams as well as fears. Two sequences bear this out vividly. In the first, villagers are ordered to line up and tell the administrators, Santa Claus-style, one thing they would like in return for contributing to the fake village effort. Some of the impoverished villagers can’t even mentally process this offer, having never been in a position to dream big, much less ask for things beyond food, clothing and shelter. The other is a brilliant sequence that relays from one character’s nocturnal fantasies to another, each one informed in their own way by the movies: a priest’s nightmare shot with Expressionist angles of Puritanical oppression; the mayor’s fantasy of gunslinging Western heroism; a farmer’s dream that brilliantly mixes social realist propaganda and Hollywood fantasy, with a plane flown by Santa Claus parachuting tractors to the peasantry.
With its withering observations on human fallacy and self-delusion on both an individual and collective level, Bienvenido, Mister Marshall would be one of the most merciless social satires ever made, if its condescending omniscience towards its subjects didn’t somehow implicate itself. There’s a priceless moment where the voiceover chastises a schoolmistress in bed possibly doing indecent things to herself; in doing so the narrator outs himself as being as much of a control freak as Franco. As such, the film amounts to its own fantasy construct of Spain as an eternally tragic, but laughably charming dystopia. It does as masterful a job of selling its vision as the fascist and capitalist ideologues it eviscerates.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE? Continue reading “984 (116). Bienvenido, Mister Marshall / Welcome, Mister Marshall (1953, Luis Garcia Berlanga)”