7/10
DEATH IN THE GARDEN (Luis Bunuel, 1956) ***
31 July 2008
Warning: Spoilers
This rarely seen Franco-Mexican 'potboiler' is perhaps most significant today for being the first of seven collaborations between Spanish director Luis Bunuel and genial French character actor Michel Piccoli – who would practically become an adopted son to the surrealist master's. Although I am aware of at least one late-night Italian TV screening in the early 1990s, I finally got acquainted with it via the priceless Bunuel retrospective I attended eighteen months ago at London's National Film Theater; thankfully, I came across the film again recently on DivX and, in spite of the uncharacteristically slangy American subtitles – which were difficult to make out (despite being unusually large) whenever popping up against a white background – I now gladly revisited it to mark the 25th anniversary of Bunuel's death.

The film deals with the escape journey (up the river on a corrupt trader's barge bound for Brazil) of a band of misfits from a South American revolution triggered by the Fascist state's retrieval of the rights of any enterprising miner (read down-and-out bums and renegade adventurers) to hunt for diamonds (one of the film's various international monikers was, in fact, THE DIAMOND HUNTERS – which is how it is listed in the 1996 Leonard Maltin guide I own); incidentally, the country-in-turmoil setting anticipates Bunuel's next French movie, LA FIEVRE MONTE A EL PAO aka REPUBLIC OF SIN (1959). After a fairly plot-heavy first half which serves to introduce the major characters and, uncharacteristically for Bunuel, gives rise to some well-staged action sequences, the film really starts to hum when the disparate party of six (four men and two women) embark on their riverside trek through the deadly Amazon jungle (the "garden" of the title). Incidentally, the movie is said to have been a hefty 145 minutes long in Mexico, while being reduced to 107 elsewhere – echoing the fate of the not-too-dissimilar THE WAGES OF FEAR (1953), with which it shares co-star Charles Vanel!

The undeniable highlight comes towards the mid-point with an extraordinary succession of shots which are distinctly Bunuelian: having finally managed to kill and skin a snake, the famished travelers are unable to light a fire to cook it on so the priest (Piccoli) quietly takes out a Bible from his sack and, just as he is tearing a leaf from it, the flame is ignited; however, their elation is short-lived since their reptilian dinner has seemingly sprung back to life while being ravaged by a multitude of ants (an unforgettable image that harks back to Bunuel's life-long love of insects); in the resulting delirium from hunger, a photo of the Arch of Triumph held dearly by Charles Vanel (as it reminded him of his dream of owning a Parisian restaurant) is startlingly accompanied by the cacophony of its typical nightlife, before being summarily torn to shreds and thrown away – an act which later alerts the unfortunate bunch that they have been going around in circles! To top it all, we also have Piccoli's feverish monologue about soft-boiled eggs which, like one of the characters from Bunuel's later masterpiece THE DISCREET CHARM OF THE BOURGEOISIE (1972), he feels compelled to impart to his fellow companions. In spite of his unsubtle name, Fr. Lizardi is easily the most fascinating character in the film – piously advocating submission to the state and yet confronted by both lust and greed when left to his own devices. Ironically enough, what finally saves the group (albeit temporarily) is the fact that 50 poor souls had to die in a plane crash, a site which they stumble upon in the middle of the forbidding jungle!

Georges Marchal (in the second of four films he made with Bunuel) plays an adventurer named Shark who is hilariously introduced by giving the index finger salute to the soldiers holding the miners at bay; arrested by the latter, they step inside a Church to pray but at the same time don't hesitate to beat their prisoner into a kneeling position, after which he is stroked by Vanel's lovely deaf-mute daughter whom he had previously mistreated himself (played by Michele Girardon who, despite having no previous acting background, would eventually land a key role amidst another ensemble cast in Howard Hawks' exhilarating HATARI! [1962]…though, sadly, her life ended in suicide at age 36). Simone Signoret plays Djin – another alternate name for this film was the bland GINA(!) – the locale's most popular whore whom Vanel seeks to marry, Piccoli is caught 'with' her by the townsfolk and Marchal loses no opportunity to beat up (in spite of her declared love for him); perhaps this was Bunuel's way of punishing Signoret who, reportedly, proved quite temperamental on the set! In any case, it was a nicely ironic and surreal touch to have her impeccably dressed in evening gown and jewelry (pilfered from the plane crash victims, of course) right before being shot dead by a demented Vanel.

Ultimately, this must surely be one of Bunuel's most accessible films and arguably his most enjoyable genre effort which, as was his custom, the director infuses with personal touches that greatly enhance both the fun factor and thematic value of what could have easily been just another throwaway jungle adventure. Judiciously, Paul Misraki's beautiful acoustic score is only utilized for the start and end credits since the jungle segment is evocatively (yet eerily) accompanied by the sounds of wildlife.
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