That Obscure Object of Desire (1977)
A deeply affecting film and a haunting farewell by Bunuel. This film is as serious as the director got, and the passion behind his characters and the weakness he instills them with is- I can find no better word- scary. The themes work playfully by exploring the space given to them, and this is the secret to Bunuel's touch; he is not rushed to unveil his careful tragedy nor is he particularly concerned with getting there- the importance lies in the slow-burn of life and the frightening twists and turns that accompany it. Carole Bouquet and Angela Molina are among the finest actors Bunuel has ever worked with, and the evidence comes from their awe-inspiring duel performance, a work of art within itself, mesmerizing and complex; what did Bunuel have in mind with this shifty trick? Did it really matter? A career filled with jokes and vivacious gestures would suggest otherwise, but there is something urgent about this last work, something chilling and unsure. Mathieu (played delicately by powerhouse actor and Bunuel regular Fernando Rey) is a man unbearably tormented by lust and loneliness, themes that seemed to torture the director's own visions and perhaps his life. To see the desperation which constantly encrusts Mathieu is painful; he is a pathetic character with animalistic reflexes and a babyish emotional complex which extends no further than his own need for companionship. But he is human in this regard, and watching him touches the most personal parts within us; we pity him and we pity ourselves. The film does not entertain me but instead makes me indescribably sad. It is strictly a film, and it is like watching a friend deteriorate without the ability to help. A tragedy and a tour-de-force of exquisite acting, smooth visuals and satisfyingly human direction. What a way to end a career.
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