Tag: Carlos Saura

  • The Rapturous Flamenco Flamenco Offers Just What It Promises

    The magnificent dance film Flamenco Flamenco begins, as it must, with a lady in red. Scarlet red, the dress clings to the impossibly lithe body of Sara Baras, Spain’s preeminent female dancer, who stretches her long arms to the sky, and then, with a slight hitch of that dress and an inward smile, begins tapping […]

  • Carlos Saura’s Fados Reviews a Portuguese Folk Tradition

    “The Fado” is a dolorous folksong tradition from Portugal, first sung in the early 19th century by barefoot peasants mending nets and contemplating a roiling black Atlantic. It has survived to the present day, providing MP3 succor to middle-class professionals on antidepressants (lyric: “It was God’s will that I live with anxiety”)—and now it’s the […]

  • House of Paint

    Sharing more nowadays with Ken Russell than with his own, Franco-era filmmaking self, Carlos Saura seems to be turning into a middle-class formalist, manufacturing elaborate, meta-theatrical tableaux for the purposes of putting over Spanish cultural history. Movies, as such, don’t seem to interest him any longer; they’re a means to a duller ethnic end. By […]

  • Tango

    Though the parallels between them are shaky, Tango unavoidably calls to mind Sally Potter’s paean to this genre of choreographed foreplay, the charming, narcissistic curiosity The Tango Lesson. In Potter’s film, dance is an embodiment— albeit an awkward one— of clashing artistic wills, power relations between the sexes, and idealized love and the disillusionment that […]