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LIBRARY
Michigan State
University

This is to certify that the
dissertation entitled

MASCULINITY IN SPANISH FILM: FROM PROHIBITION TO
COMMANDED ENJOYMENT

presented by

MARY T. HARTSON

has been accepted towards fulfillment
of the requirements for the

PhD. degree in Hispanic Cultural Studies

 

 

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‘ Major Professor’s Signature
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Date

MSU is an affinnative-action, equal-opportunity employer

 

PLACE IN RETURN BOX to remove this checkout from your record.
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ABSTRACT

MASCULINITY IN SPANISH FILM: FROM PROHIBITION TO
COMMANDED ENJOYMENT

By
Mary T. Hartson
Hegemonic masculinity as represented in Spanish film from 1939 through the
present changed dramatically across time, initially organizing itself around prohibition
and self-renunciation during the dictatorship and later, with the onset of consumerism,
reorienting itself around desire and enjoyment. Employing psychoanalytic theory
following Todd McGowan and others, this dissertation describes the shift from a “society
of prohibition” to a “society of commanded enjoyment” elucidating how the oedipal
narrative can be used to analyze changes in the filmic representation of hegemonic forms
of masculinity. The oedipal narrative, a paradigm that has been widely cited for its
ftmction in the reproduction of capitalist economic structures, is eminently suited to the
analysis of masculinity as it relates to changing economic structures as seen in the
Spanish context. The oedipal father who prohibits the expression of desires and later the
"anal father of enjoyment" who in a consumerist society does not prohibit enjoyment, but
rather actively promotes it, reflect the shift toward the rise of consumerism in Spain.
This change is especially relevant in the Spanish context as a repressive fascist-oriented
dictatorship gave way quite abruptly to a modern democratic consumerist society during
the transition period in the 19708 and 19805. Early dictatorship war films, the so-called
“cine de crumda” exalted personal restraint and sacrifice while later films represented
conflicts that arose as masculine figures were increasingly faced with consumer

opporumities and pressures to buy. These pressures were accompanied by a breakdown

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of sorts around the 19708 in the traditional hegemonic or dominant patriarchal male
model represented in both popular and "art film" traditions by infantilized, "perverse" and
dysfirnctional sons, and absent and/or ineffectual fathers whose power was often shified
onto an overpowering female "madre castrante." This breakdown represents the failure
of the oedipal father of prohibition as sons refirsed or were unable to take up the
traditional patriarchal role. Rather, from this period emerged a reconstruction of
“masculinities” in relation to carnal desires and consumerist opportunities in a society
that seems increasingly fragmented, plural and individualistic, as well as resistant or
reactive representations that seek to reject or disregard consumerist values. F ilmic
representations of masculinity reorganize themselves in the aftermath of the dictatorship

not around prohibition but rather around desire and the pursuit of personal enjoyment

leading to a reconfiguration of the primary construction of the male identity.

 

  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank my Guidance Committee members in the Department of
Spanish and Portuguese at Michigan State University for their support in all areas of my
professional development, especially my advisor, Dr. José Colmeiro, who has continually
encouraged and guided my project while also allowing me the space and freedom to
develop my own ideas.

Thanks to the Department of Spanish and Portuguese for awarding me two
Summer Dissertation Fellowships that enabled me to conduct research at the Filmoteca
Nacional in Madrid and the Filmoteca Vasca in San Sebastian, as well as for awarding
me the Johannes Sachse Memorial Award for Graduate Student Excellence.

I would also like to express my appreciation to the staff at the Filmoteca Nacional
and the Filmoteca Vasca for assisting me with the viewing of otherwise inaccessible
materials in their film libraries and print collections.

Finally I would like to thank my entire family for their ongoing support and
encouragement, and especially my parents, Ronald and Joanne, who provided constant
moral support as well as considerable proofieading skills—I could not have done it

without you!

 

[\TRODl'l

 

Cliil’TER

 

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

INTRODUCTION 1

CHAPTER 1

MASCULINITY AND CONSUMERISM IN SPANISH CINEMA ................................ 4
Theoretical Framework 4
Survey of Relevant Fields 20
My Contribution 34

CHAPTER 2

HEGEMONIC MASCULINITY UNDER THE DICTATORSHIP ................................ 38
Cine de cruzada: Self-sacrifice and Insertion into the Masculine Hierarchy .............. 39
Naturalization of the Male Gaze: the "Other" on Display 64
Trauma and Psychic Castration during the Dictatorship 74
Desperate Measures: Defense, Containment and Assimilation .................................. 82
Conclusion 94

CHAPTER 3

BREAKDOWN OF THE HEGEMONIC MALE MODEL 96
Consumer Pressure and the Struggle for Mastery 105
Lack of Oedipal Resolution: Infantilized and Alienated Males ................................. 126
Deviance and Subversion: Undoing the Father 139
Consuming Bodies: "Sexy” Comedies and the Liberalization of Desire .................. 149
Conclusion 152

CHAPTER 4

THE NEW SPAIN: DESIRE AND THE COMMODIFICATION OF THE SPANISH
BODY

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1 54
Re-visioning the Past: Consensus Politics and Masculinity ..................................... 160
El Deseo SA. 175
"Modern" Nation and the "Feminized" Male 189
Unruly Ghosts of the Past 196
Conclusion 203
CHAPTER 5
INDIVIDUALISM AND ALIENATION 205
Image 207
Individualism 214
CONCLUSION 218
WORKS CITED 223

 

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Introduction

The year is 1973. On screen José Sacristan, the "everyman" in Spanish
film of the "Transition" period, obsessively fixates on television advertisements
while filling scrapbooks with carefully cut-out magazine images of beautiful
women and consumer products. He neglects his wife and scandalizes his long-
time work associates as he ricochets back and forth between buttoned-down,
tight-lipped business man and free-wheeling, sexually promiscuous super-
shower. Thispopular "Third Way" film seemstobeliethefactthatthemuch
commented upon "Transition" in Spain was not so much political as it was
eeonomic,andthatitsefl‘ectswerenotseamlessoreasflyassimilatedbythe
individual, but were rather quite disruptive and incongruent with dominant values
of the past.

Economic changes have always been accompanied by changes in
consciousness. Karl Marx, while he could not predict what these changes would
be, drew attention to the intimate connection between the two. And while humans
generally live in their historic moment immersed in ideology and quite unaware of
the tremendous influence socio-economic forces have on their self-conception,
theirideutity,itiscrucialtoexaminetheeffectofthese forces ifoneistodraw
nearer to an understanding of human behavior and motivation. The twentieth
Wwitnessedaneconomicuansfmmafionqtuteasdramaticasanyflratcame
before—the establishment of consumer capitalism. While it is self-evident that
suchchangesoccurunevenly acrossthe globe, thisparticularchange can be said
tohaveoccurredveryinSpainarwndtheearly l9603asaresultofspecific

 

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government policies aimed at sparking a stagnant economy along with the wide-
spread dissemination of the consumerist message through print and electronic
media in that era.

The purpose of this dissertation is to consider how this change afi'ected
and interacted with cinematic representations of masculinity from 1939, the
begirmingofthe Franco dictatorship, throughthe present. Sincethe conceptof
hegemonic masculinity refers more to an ideal than to any particular male
hrdividuaLandsmcemascufinerepresentafionhasbeenrefenedtoasasonof
arena where societal change gets worked out, it is important to consider its
representationasaway ofdrawingnearerto an understanding ofhowthese
changes affect both society and the individual. While it is irrefutable that the
death of Francisco Franco, the Women's Movement, immigration, drugs,
internationalization and other forces need to be considered, it is my contention
thattheprimarystruggledmingtheperiodtmderstudyisthestruggleto
assimilate consumerist ideals into one's self-identity.

l have chosen to approach my subject using the primary tool ofthe
twentieth century for understanding the self and for explaining the reproduction of
the capitalist system—psychoanalytic theory. Under Franco the patriarchal
family structure served to reproduce and reinforce the hierarchical organization
thatensuredhispowerfor40years. Withinthissysteunthesonhadtoreject
identification with the mother in favor of his father as a way of assuming his place
in the patriarchal hierarchy and thus share in male privilege. In a theoretical

fimworkpositedbyFmdcivilizafionwasfoundedupontheideaof

 

prohibition and the mutual renunciation of pleasure. This is a model that can be
seen to reflect social organization in the early years of the dictatorship, but which
fails to explain changes brought about with the onset of consumerist values in
Spain. Asortof"breakdown" ofthismodel infilminthe 1970s lednottothe
abandonment of the patriarchy, but to the adoption of a new father figure—not
onetimtprohibitedenjoyment, butratheronethatdemandedit. Thisdissertau'on
traces filmic representations of this transition from the "father of prohibition" to
the "anal father of enjoyment" (to use Freud's terms) as a way of understanding
the efl‘ect that socio-economic changes, specifically consumerism, affect and are

asu'rnilatedbythemaleindividualinSpdn.

 

 

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Chapter 1: Masculinity and Consumerism in Spanish Cinema
1. Theoretical framework

Cataclysmic events in Spain such as its bloody Civil War from 1936-39, a
long dictatorship, the subsequent transition to democracy, and the onset of full-
fledged consumerism in the latter halfofthe 20'“ century radically reshaped the
process of both individual and collective identity formation. My dissertation will
focus on the effect these changes have had specifically on masculine identity as it is
represented in Spanish film from 1939 to the present, in order to observe how the
transitionthathastakenplacefi'omasocial orderbasedonprohibifiomaswasthe
early Francoist dictatorship with its promotion of patriarchal fascist Catholic values,
to a society of "commanded enjoyment" which Todd McGowan describes as one in
which the individual is commanded (through advertising and consumerist pressure)
to enjoy, has refigured a centuries-old masculine ideal. He describes this shifi as
"the transition from a society founded on the prohibition of enjoyment (and thus the
dissatisfaction of its subjects) to a society that commands enjoyment or jouissance
(in which there seems to be no requisite dissatisfaction)" (2). This transition from
prohibitiontoconsumptionisobserved by McGowantobeapivotal change in
direction in the development of Western society. It has special relevance for the
study of mmculinity given that one of the foundational concepts of traditional
patrimchal masculinity in the Western world dating back to Aristotle was the ability
ofthehegernonicmaletorenouncepersonal pleasrneinfavorofduty,andtomaster
hisowndwires. Consumersocietyisfoundeduponanideathatnmsdirectly

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recognize himself as lacking rather than self-sufficient, and thus in need of the thing
that could satisfy and alleviate that lack. In psychoanalytic terms the superego
imperative to forgo personal pleasure for duty is reversed as the subject comes to
seehisdutyastheimperativetoenjoy. Aconsumeristsocietyhasbeendescribed
as one in which "many people formulate their goals in life partly through acquiring
goods that they clearly do not need for subsistence or for traditional display. They
become enmeshed in the process of acquisition—shopping—and take some of their
identity from a procession of new items that they buy and exhibit" (Steams vii).
This definition is illustrative particularly in its mention of life goals and identity—
two fundamental factors in the conceptualimtion ofonesselfin the world—that now
orient themselves around the expression of desire.

While some consumerist tendencies have existed throughout history in
Spain as elsewhere in the world, they achieved unprecedented institutional and
sodalsupponmflielmerhalfofthezomcennuyandhaveexpandedmmcludethe
consumption of sex as well as substances such as drugs and alcohol The effects of
thetransitionfiornone modeltotheotherproduceddissonanceinthepcrformancc
ofmmculinityasrepresentedinSpanishcinema. Thisdissonanceledtoasenseof
discontinuity and finally breakdown in the previous representation ofthe
hegemonic male—a disintegration that is especially apparent in films of the earlier
partoftlwperiodinSpanishhistorythatbecameknownastheTransition. Atthis
time patriarchal support of hegemonic masculinity from the dictatorship waned and
communist mire increased. The period ofreorganization that followed the
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observed, but more significantly the reorganization of the individual's self-
perception along with the masculine ideal under the new hegemony of consumerist
forces. The dramatic shifi effected an eventual reorganization of both the individual
and society in which personal enjoyment, not the public good, was the highest ideal
with the result being a politically disinterested populace united by the common
desire for the satisfaction of consumerist desires. McGowan describes this
phenomenon in the following way: "rather than being tied together through a shared
sacrifice subjects exist side by side in their isolated enclaves of enjoyment" (2).
Ironically, as he points out, enjoyment itselfhas become the new mandate, and the
injrmction to enjoy ever more precludes the possibility of true enjoyment due to the
subject's constant dissatisfaction.

As masculinity will never be considered to be monolithic, the interplay
between the apparently favorable or positive version and alternatives, often within
thesamefihmwfllrevealtheinsecmifiesandpressuresthatsurfacedinthe
maintenance of the male ideal. I consider that 'masculinity' is an historically
relative term and, while it must be kept in mind that masculinities are always plural,
indeedinfiniteinpractice,this studywill attempttotracetendenciesandrepetitions
intheperformaace ofmasculinityonscreeninonlerto discoverthehegemonic
modelatworkaswellasthe stressorsassociated withtheadoptionandmaintenance
ofthatmodel. AndreaComwallandNancy Lindisfarnedefinethehegemonic
model as "successful ways of being a man" (3) and rightly point out the complexity
implicitinthisconceptwhichwasfirstused systematically by R.W. Connell inhis
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the power relations that are so important in the formation of masculinity. Cornwall
and Lindisfarne note that the hegemonic ideal is an abstraction that serves the
prn‘poses of certain interests but that it does not actually reflect modes of behavior
of the vast majority of men:
Hegemonic masculinity is far more complex than the accounts of
essencasinthemasculinitybookswouldsuggestL . .]. Itisrather,
a question of how particular groups of men inhabit positions of
powerand wealthandhowthey legitimate andreproducethe social
relationships that generate their dominance. Consequently the
culturally exalted form of masculinity, the hegemonic model, may
only correspond to the actual characters of a very small number of
mendespitethefactthatlargenumbersofmenarecomplicitin
sustaining the hegemonic model. (1 9)
The relatively narrow definition of the hegemonic model in existence during the
early part of the dictatorship reflected the concentration of power in the hands of a
few and a belief in strict adherence to Catholic fascist values. The hegemonic
model becomes much more difiicult to identify in films during the Transition and
afierwudblrtcertaintrendscanbeidentified, amongthemareflrepursuitof
personal advancement and enjoyment—underlying goals that are seen to become
normativeinthelaterpartofthe Transitionthroughthepresent.
'I‘heriseofconsumercultmeinSpaindatesbacktotheearly 19603whena
newly appointed government made up largely of Opus Dci "technocrats" instituted

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to tourism. These changes were directly opposed to economic policies of the
Falange and early Francoism and posed a most serious and specific challenge to the
way that masculinity had been represented and lived up to that time. It is a change
that was even more marked in Spain than in other Western countries given that
fascism had been specifically linked with an anti-consumerist ethos and had
survived as a dominant ideology longer in Spain than elsewhere in Europe. Peter
Steams comments on this correlation in Consumerism in World History: the Global
Transformation of Desire: "Basic fascist goals, however, were anti-consumerist.
For fascist leaders, modern society had become too disunited and individualistic.
Consumerismwasafimdamentalpartofmoderndegeneracy" andhestatesthatin
fascist Italy and Nazi Germany "the defeat of fascism discredited the most general
efl'ort to stem consumerism and replace it with a more military and collective
identity" (72). I contend that this change is a primary cause of the widely observed
"crisis'I in Spanish masculinity in the Transition period—a crisis that is represented
artistically through the victimization by one means or another of male characters in
annySpmushfilmsasweHastheemergenceoftherepresentafionofanabrmdance
of "deviant" sexualities. Like consumerism, many of the forces that had been at
work in other developed countries during the 20‘'1 century (rapid economic and
technological developments, feminism, rise in illegal drug use, immigration,
globalizafionetc.)arrivedmoreabrupflyin$paininflreafiermathofflle
dictatorship and contributed to a massive reworking of the process of masculine
identity formation.

 

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This study is divided into four parts according to a chronological separation
of Spain's political history. The first encompasses the years from the establishment
of the dictatorship in 1939 through the death of Luis Carrero Blanco, designated
successor ofthe ailing Franco, in 1973 which marked the beginning ofwhat was
known as the dictablanda in Spain. The following two chapters divide the so-called
Transition period into two parts: the first encompasses those years between the
death of Carrero Blanco, and the Socialist Party victory in 1982, and the second
includes those years from 1983 through 1992, the year in which Spain established
itself as a modern European nation through the hosting of the 1992 Barcelona
Olympics and World's Fair in Seville, as well as the signing of the Maastrict Treaty
in 1992 which led to the formation of the European Economic Union. Finally, the
years from 1993 to the present will be discussed briefly in order to indicate cunent
fiendsinmasculinerepresenmfionasthesecorrespondmandreactagainstthe
imposition of the consmnerist model of masculinity.

The reorganization observed in the diachronic study of masculinity in film
reflects a shifi in societal organization from under what McGowan (citing Freud)
called the "father of prohibition" to the "anal father of enjoyment", or in Slavoj
Zizek's term "Pete jouissance" (x). Freud posited a theoretical framework in Totem
and Taboo in which he attempted to envision the moment when civilized life began.
msspeudafivefiameworkwasmkenupbylanlagodzinski inhis article
"Recuperafing the F laccid Phallus: The Hysteria of Post-Oedipal Masculine
RepreeurtafionandtheReturnoftheAnal Father" andwasfurtherdevelopedby

Todd McGowan in his highly suggestive work The End of Dissatisfaction? Jacques

 

 

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Lawn and the Emerging Society of Ery'oyment. The crucial concept for the
development of my thesis concerns Western capitalist society's organimtion first
around prohibition and later around the pursuit of personal enjoyment. Freud's
theory, described in Totem and Taboo, can be summarind as follows: Before the
dawn of civilization there was "a violent and jealous Father" who kept all the
females for himselfand drove away his sons as they grew up. One day the brothers
who 1nd been driven out came together, killed and devoured their father and so
madeanendofthe patriarchal horde. United byflreirguflgtheynowtransformed
their sense of remorse into a system of prohibitions that led to the beginnings of
cooperativecommunallife. AsFreudstates, "'I‘hepauiarchalhordewasreplacedin
the first instance by the fiatemal clan" (Totem 181). As McGowan goes on to
describe it, the "anal father of enjoyment" or the "Great F ucker" as lacan calls him,
receded but never disappeared fi'om the collective consciousness. Mutual
prohibifionledtothecreationofapublicspacewherenoindividual wouldtakehis
pleasure, and the Oedipus complex established the orderly transfer of power and its
reproductionwithinthefamilyunit. AgaimmthewordsofFreud, "'l'herewere
fathersonceagain, butthesocial achievements ofthe fi'aternal clanhadnotbeen
abandoned; mdthe gulfbetweenthenewfathers ofafamilyandtheunrwtricted
primalfatherofthehordewaswideenoughtoguaranteetheconfinuanceofthe
mfigiomcmvingthepersistenceofanunappeasedlongingforthe father" (Totem
185). Furthermore, as a means of describing desire itself, McGowan further

deaaibes the myth:

 

 

 

 

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Though this prehistorical enjoyment did not exist, the idea of it

nevertheless continues to have a power over the subjects of the social

order. Having given up a part of themselves—albeit a part that did
not exist until they gave it up—these subjects insofar as they remain
in the social order are incomplete or lacking. Bound by this lack,
theyirnagineorfantasizeanobjectthatexistsinthegaplefibytheir
sacrifice. This object is what Lacm calls the 'objet petit a'. The
'objet a' constitutes the subject as desiring; it provides the lure that
aetsasanengine forthe desireofthe subjectandalsodirectsthe
desireinitscircuit[. . .]Itcausesthesubjecttoemergeasa
desiring subject, as the subject of desire. (16)
Whereas in a society of prohibition, public recognition is the socially accepted form
of enjoyment precisely because it involves allowing the symbol to enjoy in one's
stead, in a society of enjoyment this space is dissolved as individuals are
encouraged to enjoy at all times. Suddenly the individual is not rewarded but rather
berated for his failure to enjoy and the individual becomes involved in an incessant
quest for the 'objet petit a'--some object that is constantly held up as an apparent
satisfactionoftheperceived lack. In global consumerism,the shifttoanirnperative
to enjoy becomes more apparent and is accompanied by a radical revisioning of the
conceptofduty. AsMcGowandescribes it: "Thisnotionofadutyto behappy
radically transforms the very concept of duty, which has historically involved

lirnitingratherflranmaximizingoneshappiness" (35). Thustheformdational

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conceptualimtion of civic life is reformulated to promote the needs and desires of
the individual over those of the collective.

In the Franco dictatorship the old model reigned—even the dictator himself
was represented as a self-disciplined soldier, a hard-working father and regular
chm'chgoer. It was a model that was constantly upheld in the media particularly as
was seen in the early dictatorship ”cine de cruzada" films. Pleasure-seeking was
seento interferewiththe realworkof"beingaman" andisobservedinfilmsofthis
time to be the realm of women and weak, feminized men. Positive male models
reject self-indulgence in favor of service and self-renrmciation. Later, starting
aroundtheearly 19603, filmsgraduallybegantopromoteconsmneristvalueswhich
encouraged the individual to seek personal satisfaction and advancement. Jan
Jagodzinski and Todd McGowan expanded on the mythic origin of civilization to
describe this societal shifi away from prohibition and shared sacrifice. For them the
adaptation ofconsurnerist values resuscitated the "anal father ofenjoyment" as the
organizing principle in Western society and the imperative to forgo persomrl
satisfaction gave waytoonethatdemandedthattheindividual seek it.

Though Freud never wrote a formal accormt of masculinity (Connell l2),
psychoanalysis has been employed in various important explorations of the subject
(KW. Connell, Anthony Eastlrope, Kaja Silverman, Jan Jagodzinsky) and serves as
a useful model given its frequent association with the reproduction of the family
rmit as a tool of capitalist development. Franco drew heavily on the ideological
weightofthenuclearfamilyunitasarnechanism ofsocialorganizationandcontrol.
Thepafiuchflfaflnrfiguewasheldrmasdreunquesfimedamhofitywithineach

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family and was expected to take his place within a rigidly established hierarchical
social structure that allowed no room for deviance. Employing a psychoanalytical
perspective following the work of Lacan, Silverman and Jagodzinsky, I intend to
consider how changes in the oedipal narrative, whose repetition had long ensured
patriarchal dominance, but whose subversive potential has been identified, reflect
the changing reality of nrasculine identity formation.

The psychoanalytic model of masculinity has been applied specifically to
the consumerist context by Jan Jagodzinski and Todd McGowan. McGowan
expands upon Jacques Lacan's description of the fundamental symbolic lack that
fonnsthebasisofachild'ssenseofhis/herownidentityasseparatefiomflre
mother's. Unlike Freud, Lacan focuses on entry into the symbolic law of language
asthepfimarycasuafingevenflsacfificmgbeingandonenesswiththemotherfor
entry into the symbolic order). In the so-called "Mirror Stage" the child identifies
withanimageofitself. Whilethefemalechildcomestoidenfifywiththemother
(who is also seen as lacking since she does not possess the phallus or anchoring
signifier)sheismoreacceptingofthe lack. Themalechildhoweverenters intoa
more complicated process in which, ultimately he should identify with the father,
bearer of the transcendental phallus or symbol of power. However, since the
identity is based on the falsified equation of penis to phallus, or rather male sex
organ to symbol ofpower, the male individual is constantly threatened with
disintegrationoftheconstructedegoandasenseoffoundational lack. Heseeksto
"plug the hole" of symbolic castration (Silverman, Male Subjectivity 4) in a variety

ofwaysincludingfefishismandnarcissism,bodrofwhichmeseentobefedby

 

 

 

 

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consumerist advertising which promises fulfillment and an escape fiom lack.
Whereas early dictatorship cinema presented lack as voluntary self-renunciation
thatactrrallyservedtoraisethestatusofthe individual, laterfilmsrepresentitas
imposedratherthanembracedandindividual subjectsareforcedintorecognitionof
lack-something that it is understood could be avoided through the acquisition of
consrnner goods or increased enjoyment.

This study considers that filmic representations serve an ideological
facilitationtothedomimntsocialorderbyprovidinga"mirror" imageinwhichthe
subject "recognizes" itselfin what Althusser saw as a collective captation, one that
occursonamassaswell asan individual level, andwhich contributestothe
constitution of society as such. The role of film in this process has been described
in the following way: "Films' imaginary reinforcement of an illusory subjectivity
fulfills a crucial role in the working of ideology, which has as its fundamental aim
the production ofa sense ofsubjectivity" (xiv). Furthermore, cinema acts as a sort
of bridge between the public and the private, "an art form that has an active and
dynamic relationship with existing models of identity" (Marsh, Nair 2), and as such
facilitates the individual's incorporation into society as a whole. Since popular as
weflasarfisficorcfificaflyswcessfiflfilmsueimpficatedmflfisprocessbothbear
study regarding their masculine representations. Aesthetic judgments of quality are
disegardedhereinfavorofattenfiontofilmsdratwerewidelyseenand/orare
particulariy representative of trends in masculine representation. As Nuria Triana
Toribio says ofpopular film: "Their value is instead diagnostic. The fact that they

mesaenbysomanypeoplemeansthattheyweredremainmediumforthose

 

 

 

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people to imagine themselves" (1 l). Silverman, employing an Althusserian reading
of ideological facilitation, claims that the individual does not directly inhabit either
the symbolic order or the means of production, but rather is accommodated to
his/her "reality" through an ideological facilitation or captation that takes place on
an imaginary or fantasy level: "fantasy posits a given object which is considered
(but not) capable of restoring wholeness to the subject" (Silverman, Male
Subjectivity 20). It is important to observe the way in which filmic production and
consumption serve this phantasmagoric purpose, and filmic images are especially
important within the context of the society of enjoyment because they serve as the
imaginarysupplementtoflreindividual subject: "anemphasisonthe image is
symptomatic of the society of enjoyment because it provides the illusion of total
enjoyment and freedom without the kind of enjoyment that might disturb the
functioning of the social structure itself' (McGowan 59). Film is the subject of this
studynotbecauseitisrmiqueinitsabifitytoreflectandpropagateerdsfing
ideology, but because by its nature as a corporate production it is an artifact that
reflects a collective experience, while its traditionally public consumption facilitates
its group ideological function. While individual directors can exercise a
tremendous influence over the creation oftheir films, the larger political and
economic issues, along with the various creative processes involved in the
productionofafilmareinfactpartoftherealityofitsproductionandassuch
reflect (more than a novel for example) the collective imagination—in creation and
consrunpfionflhuslagreewithHopeweflflmhutcmisanhadequatetermand
flntitisnecessarytotalkabouthhectorandHis/hercireumstances" (190). While

 

 

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I do not reject Andrew Higson's suggestion that "the National should be used as
much at the site of consumption as at the site of production" (52), this work focuses
on films that have been produced and released in Spain and that have received
significant popular and/or critical acclaim. This is not to imply that films from
outside Spain are irrelevant to the discussion, but rather that those film projects that
are primarily produced and marketed in Spain will reflect ideological concerns both
at the point of creation as well as at the point of consumption and thus are doubly
relevant to the process of ideological interpellation. Francesc Llinas expressed this
dual ideological flmction: "el cine no es solo un reflejo de la sociedad, sino que, en
mayor o menor grado, forma parte de aquella, es uno de tantos elementos que
contribuyen a la dinamica social" (qtd. in Hurtado 17). Thus it reflects the
processes that contribute to its production while also exerting an influence upon its
release. Rather than seeking to achieve parity in the representation of regional or
minority masculinities, this work observes global changes in representations of
masculinities including attention to the hegemonic models at work.

However, whereas Silverman considered "perversion" ("Masochism' 23) or
non-phallic masculinities to be a way out of the oedipal patriarchy and thus a
h’beratioanroposethatthis "liberation"wasshort-livedandwiththeultimate
result being not a free and whole individual, but rather an individual who, though he
may have gained some freedoms (especially in the realm ofsexuality) was now
subject to a demanding new master——the "anal father of enjoyment." Oscar Guasch

commentsonthenewsexualopennessthathasoccrmedinSpainsincethefaflof

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the dictatorship, indicating that its employment (in Foucaultian terms) is
manipulated by the dominant discourse to conform to certain dictates of society:
La nueva definicion de normalidad sexual, la nueva forma de control
socialdelsexoseorganizadeunamaneramassr’rtil. Yanosetrata
de prohibir y reprimir la actividad sexual (algo contestado por
jévenes e intelectuales). Se trata ahora de dar normas para el acceso
a1 placer. La actividad sexual no es prohibida: se recomienda. Pero
dentro de un orden. (Crisis 80)
Developments made by Jan Jagodzinski and Todd McGowan who linked
psychoanalytic theory to the consumer context will be especially important for the
development of my thesis. Jagodzinski notes the shift from the oedipal father to the
anal father relating it to the rise of consumerism, "In postmodern consumerism,
therefore,theoedipalfatherismthemidstofdisappeafingandwithhim,are
disappearing the prohibitions against enjoyment [ . . . ] rather than prohibiting
enjoyment, this new father commands it, thus unleashing aggressivity in heretofore
unimaginable ways" (32). The model of the "society of prohibition" as described
by Todd McGowan in The End of Dissatisfaction? is particularly appropriate in the
Sptmish context as the National-Catholic State headed by Franco sought to
dominate the individual. As prohibition gave way to commanded enjoyment, many
of the changes he described—increased individualism, political apathy and the
endlesspursuitofpleasme—canbeseenrepresentedinSpanishcinema.
FollowingChrisPerriamwholinksastar’svaluetoacertainplaceand

uitgeist (Sara and Masculinities 9) and Joseba Gabilondo (and others) who links

 

 

 

 

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the male character to a larger political and social context, I will consider that male
starsandprimarymalerolescometorepresentkeymovementsandconflictsinthe
development of a collective and an individual identity. As Gabilondo states, "The
Spanish nation and masculinity come culturally connected at least since the 19'”
century" ("Spanish Masculinity at the Verge of a Very Queer Breakdown" 4). I
suggest that the male character's ability to embody the nation is much older than
that and that literary characters like the Cid have served to crystallize and reinforce
collective values and national direction for centuries.

Through attention to manifestations of masculinity which are considered
hegemonic, as well as to contesting and diverging masculinities in widely viewed
films, I hope to demonstrate that societal shifts were accompanied by clear
difi‘erences in the hegemonic model, most notably in its reorganization around
consumption rather than prohibition. I will consider the effects of a harsh
dictatorship on the formation of masculine subjectivity and its resultant gender
”confusion," but will also explore the way that other forces, especially economical
oneeueatedanewsortofimaginary subject. Thissubjecttheproductofthe
Transition's call for unity as well as the collective economic purpose, sufiered a
new sort ofpsychological subjugation as the mass media imposed a strong dictate to
consume. This mandate becomes an unattainable goal that leads to an intolerance
ofthe enjoymentofothersand, "the impositionofanewkindofsuperego,onethat
develops from the Anal Father who psychically attacks us for our very failure to
enjoy rather than for enjoyment itself as the old superego of the Name-of-the-Father

once did" (33). Manifestations of masculinity in these films as well as their

 

 

popular reception indicate how the imaginary placement of the male figure presents
an opportunity for suture or imaginary self-recognition on the part of the spectator
and thus the development of new identifications whose hegemonic norms may have
1m to do with the resolution of the traditional oedipal complex and the re-
establishment of a hetero-sexual norm, and more to do with engaging in a never-
ending quest to consume.

By observing the ways in which male figures address their lack of
traditionalpower,aswellasthewaysinwhichflreyattempttocornpensate,onecan
observe the effects of various pressures that contribute to the creation of male
subjectivities, but also the coping mechanism that hegemonic masculinity employs
to "stay on top." A "crisis" in masculinity has been observed to have occurred in
the early Transition period. This change prompted alterations to the hegemonic
white male figure including a possible "feminization" that, rather than signaling a
movetowardasharingofpower,mayhaveservedasanadaptafionalmecharusm
which ensured firrther hegemonic masculine dominance. As MacKinnon has noted,
"'I'hesofteningofmasculinitymay have littletodowith femaleemancipationor
empowerment. The most cynical interpretation would be that, in order for
masculinity to remain hegemonic, it must admit the feminine at certain historic
moments" (15). Diversity and the representation of alternatives such as homosexual,
mimfityandregionalmascufimfiesmayappear,brugenerallynotmsuchawayas
tochaflengetheSpanishwhitemale'sdominanceoftheecomnucinfiasuwune.

 

 

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11. Survey of relevant fields

Masculinity studies, a now burgeoning field, had a relatively recent origin as
an outgrowth of feminist studies in the 19705. The feminist-inspired spectatorship
paradigm sparked by Laura Mulvey's important but subsequently challenged work
on the male gaze served as the backdrop for a feminist inquiry of masculine
spectatorship of film. She incorporated Freudian concepts (for a history of Freudian
concepts related to masculinity studies see Coan 2005) such as the phenomenon
of castration anxiety and voyeurism to discuss the male reception of filmic images.
Subsequent studies by Pam Cook writing about a group of 1940s melodramas noted
that female desire and female point of view are highly contradictory (1982); and
Steve Neale (1983) who explored voyeuristic and fetishistic looking in the Western
genre of men by men continued to explore these concepts. Mulvey herself
continued to revise her ideas especially her 1975 equation of the male with active
agentofthegazeandthefemale withpassiveobjectandby l985wasbeginningto
rethink the whole notion of this dualism. Other studies fiom the 19705 tried to
showhowmascrdinitywassociallyconsuuctedandleamed—andalsohowitwas
restrictive to the individual (David & Brannon 1976, Farrell 1974, Tolson 1977,
Goldberg 1976).

Important advances in the 1980s were often critical of the first wave's
attentionto "sex roleparadigms" foritsrelative lackofattentiontotheissueof
power, questioning instead the very concept of gender and the discourses of power
thatcontributedtotheircreation. Frmdamentalcontributionsweremadeinthearea

of masculinity as related to hegemonic power structures various scholars including

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Anthony Easthope in What a Man's Gotta Do: the Masculinity Myth in Popular
Culture (1986) in which he sought to problematize the supposed "universality" of
the patriarchal identity and show that masculinity itself is historically relative.
Following Freud and Lacan, Easthope discussed the causes for masculine violence,
jealousy and homophobia, linking them to a struggle that the male individual
experiences to be masculine. R.W. Connell, in his work, Gender and Power (1987),
related masculinity to questions of politics and power using the term "hegemony" to
talk about masculine domination. Michel Foucault's work on the power of
discourse within the area of gender was elaborated in his multi-volume work, The
History of Sexuality, whose first three volumes appeared before his death in 1984
and which outlined the nature of power exerted through the discourses of
psychiatry, the penal system, and medicine in the development of gender identity.
His work along with Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick's Between Men: English Literature
and Male Homosocial Desire (1985) and Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble formed the
basis for the newly developing field of queer studies—a field of inquiry anticipated
by Guy Hocquenhem in his important work, Homosexual Desire (1972).
Hocquenghem's rejection of the coherence of "ego" or "self“ and his focus on desire
itself rather than on the individual's choice of object was also explored by Deleuze
and Guattari who rejected the Oedipus complex as a tool of capitalism and posited
Inmasa"desiringmachine" capable of"plugging in"toothersuchmachines ina
variety of configurations.

Kosofsky Sedgwick was on the cutting edge in the development of cultural
studies, using literary criticism to question the dominant discourses of sexuality as

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well as race and gender. Judith Butler's important concept of "performativity," the
idea that the repetition of stylized bodily acts or "performances" established the
appearance of gender, proposed that the category was neither natural nor stable, but
rathertheproductofan ongoingprocess ofrepetition. Herworkwas influenced by
the advent of post-structural theory and rather than accepting the idea of a fixed
gender identity, she focused on normativity and perfonnafivity in her analyses.
Mark Simpson follows Butler’s lead in his work Male Impersonators: Men
Pen‘orming Masculinity (1994) in which he reports a "crisis of looking" in which
masculinity seeks to prevent the "deflation" of manliness in the face of consumer
imagesthflcommodiiythemalebodyandthusthreatenthestabifityofthevery
fi'aught identification with the oedipal father as "looking" becomes confused with
"looked-at-ness" and thus homosexuality. He also explores glamour and
transvestism in relation to castration anxiety.

Anotherimportanttrendinmasculinitystudiesinthe l980sandearly I990s
was composed of ethnographic and sociological studies designed to gather
information about masculinity as it frmctioned on a societal level. It arose partly in
response to feminist theory and aimed to collect detailed historical or ethnographic
case histories. Andrea Cornwall and Nancy Lindisfarne's edited volume
Dislocating Masculinity: Comparative Ethnographies adopted an anthropological
View using the concept ofhegemonic masculinity to engage in a Foucaultian
inquiry of masculine power negotiations including an exploration of camp

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In Masculinities (1995) R.W. Connell continued to advance his theory of
hegemony in masculinity and examined the significance of differences among
masculinities—a term he insisted must be seen as plural (as did Steven Neale in his
1993 volume Screening the Male), while exploring the importance of economic and
institutional structures in the construction of masculinity. Throughout the 19903
more and more interdisciplinary work combining literary, cultural and media
studies contributed to the importance of the representation of masculinity and its
larger significance. Althusserian and Lacan-inspired paradigms that had begun to
be incorporated in the 1970s lost favor in the 1990s as performativity remained the
focus. Mung these, Peter Lehman's Running Scared (1993) is noteworthy for its
problematization of representations of the male body, especially the penis,
attempting to show how various art forms have worked to control representations of
themalebodyinorderto supportthepatriarchy. Thisthemewastakenupand
explored firrther by Toby Miller (1995, 2001) who connected the appearance ofthe
penis in popular culture with the commodification of the male subject, noting that
man can take the place of either subject or object of visual spectatorship.

Masculinity studiesintheearly 19903returnedto memplmsis ontheneed
to question the harmfirl effects of masculinity, focusing on the durability of
masculine domination despite societal changes that would seem to soften
putr'irn'chal models of the past. Susanne Hatty's Masculinities, Violence and Culture
(2000) explores the idea that violence, in the service of the modern self, preserves
individuality and forestalls the possibility of fusion with the dangerous "not self."
Shimhrdesacaflwreplacemdependemewiflrthewnceptofmterdependenceas

a means to creating a more productive, less violent model of masculinity. Pierre
Bordieu continues the discussion of male dominance in Masculine Domination
(2001) in which he challenges the naturalized and timeless quality of masculinity
whichreproduwsitsdominancethmughflreinsfiunionsthatithascreated.
Kenneth Mackinnon in Representing Men: Maleness and Masculinity in the Media
(2003) returns to the focus on perforrnativity and the instability of masculinity. He
explores the use of media representations to allay fear of the loss of identity that
resultsinthe Lacanianparadigm fiomthethreatoftherestorationofunitywiththe
mother’s body. He sees popular culture as a site of contest in which an apparently
sofiened version of masculinity-mow roowd in consumerism—resumes a position
of dominance. The Trouble with Men (2004) by Phil Powrie, which provides a
goodoverviewofworkthathasbeendoneonmasculmityandfilnndiscussesflie
phenomenon of male hysteria (first proposed by Freud) as a sort of smokescreen
under which to seek a realignment ofpower that allows a modernized version of
masculinity to remain dominant. And finally, R.W.Connell in his general overview
ofgender theory (2002) returns to the concept ofhegernonic masculinity to discuss
its implicit violence and to echo Bordieu's concern that patriarchal power operates
through the routine functioning ofsocietal institutions.

As the emphasis on the social and cultural construction of masculinity and
itsrepreseMoninpopularculmre provedanespecially productiveareaof
masculinity studies, Lacanian-inspired paradigms including the concept of the
acceptanceoflackasthepriceonemustpaytoenterthesymbolicorder,werethe
albiectofrenewedattention. TheFreudian postulationaboutthebeginningsof

 

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civilization which cited the collective murder of the father of the primal horde as
the foundational moment for social life was revived by Slavoj Zizek, Jan
Jagodzinski and Todd McGowan and serves as a useful model for discussing the
relationship of prohibition and desire to masculine subject formation. Zizek
expands on Mcanian psychoanalysis dividing reality into the symbolic, the
imaginaryandfliereal, emphasizingtherealwhich forhim isnotameaningfully
ordered totality but rather points to that uncanny element that resists incorporation
mmhmwficormmgmmmmmbmmadMMany
system of thought. Jagodzinski suggests that the Freudian model can be used to
discussmasculimwmawnsumefistagefmusingonthepost-oedipalmunnofthe
"anal father of enjoyment" who commands enjoyment much as the oedipal father
prohibited it. McGowan's synthesis of Freudian and Lacanian psychoanalysis
within the consumerist context attempts to explain how the return of the "anal father
of enjoyment" has influenced society and the individual in the age of global
capitalism.

In the Spanish context relatively little attention was paid to the subject of
masculinity before the 1990s with a few notable exceptions. Two books from the
l9803mappedoutaconsiderable amormt ofterrainintheareaifonlythrough
suggestion rather tlmn the development of a theoretical fi'amework. These are El
WespaflolalabrisquedadesuidentidadbyLidiaFalconin l986andlosusos
atnorosos de la posguerra by Carmen Martin Gaite in 1987. Though neither work
ptuportstoprovideacomprehensive viewofmasculinity,theirverypersonal styles
albwthereadermasceminagrestdealabomgendermlafionsfiomapointofview

25

 

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in the 19808, including commentary on those historical factors that contributed to
their creation. In other areas, ethnographic studies including David Gilmore's
studies of Andalusian social life and aggression (1980, 1987) and the anthology
Dislocating Masculinity (1994), along with Stanley Brandes' Metaphors of
Masculinity: Sex and Status in Andalusian Folklore (1980), focused on elements of
masculinity in Andalusia. Few other book-length studies have been devoted to
theorizing masculinity outside of the cultural studies paradigm, with the notable
exception of Oscar Guasch whose work encompasses the definition and historical
analysis of masculinity studies especially as they relate to questions of
homosexuality. He draws heavily on Foucault to explore the ways in which the
various discourses such as religion, medicine, psychology and the current "el sexo
mas seguro" in the age of AIDS, have contributed to the creation of masculinities as
well as the way in which these interact politically, observing the assimilation and
neutralization of the gay movement within popular consumerist culture after the
dictatorship. Much of contemporary masculinity studies within Spain focuses on
theisumofthcreactiontothephenomenonofAIDSinthegaycommunityand
without, that in some ways has created a new ghettoization, gender-related violence
and new legislation dating from 2005 that legalized homosexual unions.

The majority of studies on masculinity in Spain have taken a cultural studies
approach in that they consider various manifestations of masculinity in literature,
filmandthemediaingeneral andthusmanyofthesewillbeintegratedhereina
discussionofresearchdoneincinema. Animportantcmrentinthisareaisthework

done on the representation of masculinity and political identity. Various scholars

26

 

 

 

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have worked in this area including Paul Julian Smith, Chris Perriam, Isolina
Ballesteros, Joseba Gabilondo. In Laws of Desire: Questions of Homosexuality in
Writing and Film, 1960-1990, Paul Julian Smith shows how lesbian and gay
identities are inseparable from historical and political questions of national and
ethnic identities. He discusses at length the way in which the films of Pedro
Almodévar appropriate popular genres and narratives such as melodrama and
romance for the gay imagination. For Smith, the subject is caught at a crossroads
between individual identification and cultural determination, and therefore cannot
reject the power of the political in the formation of the individual identity.
Perriam's book Sims and Masculinities in Spanish Cinema (2003) considers the
cultural significance of some of the most important male "stars" of Spanish film
consideringthattheycanbereadas "embodyingthenation" andespeciallythat
masculine stars represent important junctures or crisis moments in Spanish history.
Joseba Gabilondo, in various articles dealing with Spanish masculinity in literature
and film (1997, 1999, 2001, 2002), is important in terms ofhis attention to the
conflation of masculinity and political identity. He points to the representation of
the male figure in film as a site forthe embodiment ofissues related to nationalism,
frmdarnentalisrn,sexuality,etc. Hecontextualizesmasculineidentityaswithirtand
inseparable fiom, one's political identity and explores how they interact, discussing
gay crrltme's re-appropriation ofofficial culture in the form ofcarnp, as well as the
interplay between national and regional Spanish masculine models. Isolina
Ballesteros' 2002 article "Counted Days for the Lone Man: Decentered Masculinity
and Ideological Fatigue in El hombre solo (1994) by Bemardo Atxaga, and "Dias

 

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contados (1993) by Imanol Uribe" explores regional masculinity's marginalization
andthede-centeringofthemale subjecttoobservethatthemalecharacterofien
goes through a masochistic test only to recaptm‘e a hegemonic position in the end.
Other studies in masculinity in Spanish film include Jo Labmyi's work on
the missionary- and folkloric-themed films of the dictatorship recalling work done
in spectatorship theory as she explores the possibility of subversive misreadings of
these popular genres. Steven Marsh and Parvati Nair in their edited volume, Gender
and Spanish Cinema (2004) acknowledge cinema and masculinity studies' debt to
psychoanalytic theory as articles in their book explore various aspects of cinematic
representations of gender including performance, gender identity related with
political identity, marginalized gender identities and the horror film. David
Garland's 1991 article, "A Ms-take in the Making? Transsexualism Post-Franco,
Post-Modern, Post-Haste" bears mentioning as well since it is a relatively early
attempt to read transsexualism in relation to consumer cultm'e. He observes, as
doesGuaschlateron, thatconsumerculture servesasa"resituating,
anticarnivalizing force" inthe livesofthoserepresentedinthedocumentaryfilms
he studies. Fouz-Hernéndez and Perriam's article on post-Almodévar gay-themed
filmscontinuesirrthisvein,debafingwhetherthese"camp" filmsrepreseutreal
change in sexual politics or simply an attempt to cash in on Almodovar's popular
style. Recently Fouz-Hernéndez and Martinez-Exposito's Live Flesh: The Male
Boa); in Contemporary Spanish Cinema (2007) explores the representation of the
mascuhnebodyinfilmconsidefingitasamarkedandnon—neuualspaceforthe
unbodimentofpoliticalandsocialissues. 'I'heystudyfilmsfiomthelasttluee

28

decadesintermsofhowthebodies ofmalestarsarerepresentedandhowthese
representations mediate the perceptions that different audiences obtain of Spanish
masculinity. Their analysis of the phenomenon of "Landismo" (films protagonised
bycharactersplayedbythecomedicactorAlfiedo Ianda)aswellasthesuccessof
films by director/actor Santiago Segura indicate anxieties experienced in the face of
social change.

Other works on Spanish cinema include the excellent (though now
somewhat limited by their date of publication) examinations of critically successful
films provided by John Hopewell in Out of the Past: Spanish Cinema after Enrico
(1987) and Marsha Kinder in Blood Cinema (1993). Hopewell provides an
excellent analysis of a large number of films and includes information about their
reception while exploring the question of whether psychological dramas represented
on film can illuminate political consciousness. Marsha Kinder makes a connection
betweenthepoliticalandthefamily,pointingtotheimportanceofthe
representation of the interaction between family members, and specifically the
oedipdconflicgmspeakabompolificalissuesandhismficaleventsthatwere
repressedfiomopenfilmicrepresentationsintheFrancoera. lnherassessmentt’ne
representation of violent and dysfrmctional masculinities in Spanish film can
generally be linked to a problem with the father figure and she uses the contrast
betwwnprimitivesacfificeandmodemmassacretodiscusstheefl'ectsofdie
dictatorial "father" on Spain. However, due to the importance of the oedipal
narrativeinWesterncultlne, shesuggeststhatmarginalizedordisadvantaged
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process of subject formation. The relation between the representation of family
relationships with a corresponding political subtext is also taken up by Thomas
Deveny in Cain on Screen: Contemporary Spanish Cinema (1993). He reflects on
the connection between represented conflicts and social and political issues,
referring to the fraternal antagonism that has existed historically in the so-called
"two Spains" and naming it "cainismo." In his work, as in the work of Jo Labanyi,
Constructing Identity in Contemporary Spain (2002), a resurgence within artistic
mediums of unresolved conflicts of the pm is observed.

A chronological approach is taken in several important works on Spanish
cinema. Spanish film under the dictatorship is the subject ofvarious studies
including Virginia Higginbotham's Spanish Film under Franco (1988) which
discusseshowFrancousedfilmasavisual languagetoimposeamythologyofhis
regime and also traces how the counter myth or "estética fi'anquista" employed by
Carlos Santa and others served to undermine that mythology. Spanish National
Cinema (2003) by Nuria Triana-Toribio also explores the concept of national
cinema including both the popular and art-house cinema in her analyses Cinema
and political and social change of the Transition is the subject of various works as
well including Manuel Trenzado Romero‘s Cultura de masas y cambio politico
(1999) that considers cinema as place of symbolic confrontation in which relations
of power are negotiated; Voces en la niebla (2004) by Javier Hernandez Ruiz and
Pablo Perez Rubio which focuses on the cinematic reflection of "pactino" or
consensus politics that existed as the country moved fiom dictatorship to
demacnandthecollectionofproceedings fromaconference heldbythe

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Asociacion Espafiola de Historiadores del Cine: El cine espaflol durante la
Transicién democrdtica (2005) that examine various aspects of Transition cinema.
Though artistic or critically successful films have been featured in the
majority of works done on Spanish cinema, there are several important exceptions
and the trend is shifting toward a consideration of popular cinema as the cultural
studies movement disregards "quality" as a criteria for study. Among works that
focus on popular cinema are various volumes by Terenci Moix that explore various
film icons especially fiom the 19408 in Spain and abroad, exploring their power to
transport and engage the Spanish viewer with the exotic "Other"; Spanish Popular
Cinema (2004) by Antonio Lazaro-Rebel] and Andrew Willis which, through
popular cinema, explores the subversive potential of comedy, the influence of
consumerism and the power of film in the reworking of history; and Pantalla
Popular: El cine espaiiol durante e1 gobiemo de la derecha (1996-2003) by José
MariaCapanfisLerawhthoughheproposesananalysis ofpopularcinema, falls
back on judgments of quality in his evaluation of these films.
Other works that focus on visual culture as a means of exploring larger social,
political and economic issues are Marsha Kinder’s "The Children of Franco in the
New Spanish Cinema" (1983) that discusses the traumatizing effects ofthe
dictatorship on those who reached adulthood during the Franco years, and
Reflguring Spain (1997), an edited volume that continues to explore the impact the
dictatorship has had on the Spanish psyche in its afiermath; Cine vasco de ayer a
hay (1984) by Alberto Lépez Echcvarrieta; Modes of Representation in Spanish

Cinema (1998) edited by Jenaro Talens and Santos Zunzunegui; Cine (Ins)urgente

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(2001) and Los "Otros" (2001) by Isolina Ballesteros; The Cinema of Spain and
Portugal (2005) edited by Alberto Mira; gldentidades espaitolas? (2006) by
Cristina Sénchez—Conejero; Spanish Visual Culture (2006) by Paul Julian Smith,
and Spanish Cultural Studies (1995), edited by Helen Graham and Jo Labanyi.
Among these are several studies that consider the effects of consumerism on
individual subject formation. "Paleto cinema” (2002) by Nathan Richardson shows
how "escapist cinema" is complicit with the very culture it supposedly critiques as
in the so-called "paleto" or cormtry bumpkin films which use a variety of means to
position the audience as consumers. Justin Crumbaugh in '"Spain is Different':
touring Late-Francoist Cinema with Manolo Escobar" (2002) takes a similar
approach by analyzing popular films by the actor Manolo Escobar to show how this
actor and "star” played an important role in the ideological facilitation of the
Spanish public to incipient tourism and consumerism in the late 19603 and early
19705. And finally Cristina Moreiras Manor's Cultura Herida (2002) theoriws a
connection between democracy and consumerism in Spain, showing how the
postmodern consuming subject suffers from alienation, political apathy and the lack
of a sense of solidarity with others. She shows that pluralism in society does not
correspond to solidarity within the consmner context.

A very active area of publication in Spanish cinema concerns the
contributions of individual directors and focuses on them as the creative force
behind their films. Among the studies are Luis Bufiuel (1979) by Virginia
Higginbotham, Spanish Film Directors (1950-1985): 21 Profiles (1986) by Ronald

Schwartz, Indecent Exposures: Bunuel, Saura, Erice & Almoddvar (1994) by

32

Gwynne Edwards, Bigas Luna: sombras de Bigas, luces de Luna (2001) by Isabel
Pisano and Laces y sombras en el cine de Imanol Uribe (2004) by Javier
Aguirresarobe. Another director who has given rise to an extensive body of critical
literature is, of course, Pedro Almodovar. Among the many monographs published
on this individual and his work are the following: Post-Franco, Postmodern (1995)
edited by Kathleen Vernon, Un cam'bal en Madrid (1999) by Alejandro Yarza, ,
Desire Unlimited (2000) by Paul Julian Smith, A Spanish Labyrinth (2001) by Mark
Allinson, Almodévar (2001) by Gwynne Edwards, Almodévar on Almodévar (2006)
edited by Frederic Strauss, Pedro Almodo’var (2006) by Marvin D'Lugo and Pedro
Almodovar (2007) by Jean-Max Mejean.

There are a number of general sources that provide an overview of Spanish
cinema and thus should be considered for their reference value. Rob Stone's
Spanish Cinema (2002) and Jose Enrique Monterde's Veinte anos de cine: an cine
bajo paradoja (1993) provide a basic analysis of many films relating them to the
various major movements and legislative and economic influences on the Spanish
film mdusu'y. Three other volumes that provide a detailed chronological
presentation of legislative, social and economic changes and their effect on Spanish
cinema are Escritos sobre el cine espaflol, 1973-87 (1989) by Jose Hurtado and
Francisco Pico, La produccio'n cinematogrdfica espar‘iola de la T ransicién a la
democracia (1989) by Ramiro Gomez B. de Castro and Elcine espaitol: una
propuesta didrictica (1992) by Emilio Garcia F ernandez. Other encyclopedic or
general works that provide little if any film analysis, but contain basic information
about a film's production and reception in Spain are titles like Cine espanol (1999)

33

prepared by Augusto M. Torres, Cine espafiol en cine peliculas (2002) by Miguel
Angel Barroso and Fernando Gil-Delgado, the Larousse El cine espafiol (2003), and
De Almodovar a Amendbar: el nuevo cine espaiiol (2005).
[11. My contribution

It is revealing that the area of masculinity studies has a relatively recent
origin—as an outgrowth of feminist studies in the 19709—given the importance and
influence that gender relations have historically had on almost all aspects of daily
life, especially in Spain where violence of gender continues to be a problem despite
legislative equality. The "given-ness" or invisibility of masculinity that refused
interrogation as part of masculine privilege has now given way to an abtmdance of
suggestive studies as indicted in the previous section. While this study makes no
pretense to attempting to resolve violence of gender or any other social ill, it does
seek to add to the discussion by historicizing masculinity through an observation of
its cinematic performance within the larger political and economic context in Spain
from 1939 to the present. As Pierre Bordeau points out in his work, Masculine
Domination, "Combating these historical forces of dehistoricimtion must be the
most immediate objective of an enterprise of mobilization aimed at putting history
mmofionagainbynamwnngflremechmfismsofthenetmalizafionsofhistory”
(viii) and it is the purpose of this study to open discussion on a most important and
underrepresented area of investigation—the effect of consumerism on masculine
subject formation as represented in Spanish cinema. Recent theorimtion of a
change in the fundamental organizing principle of society—hem prohibition to

connnanded enjoyment—opens the way to an examination ofthe effect that this

34

radical change has had on masculine subject formation. The relevance of this
approach is especially clear in the case of Spain in which this change occurred
abruptly and dramatically and is thus more directly observable than in other
countries such as the United States in which this change occurred more gradually.
Film itself, given its widely-theorized role in the captation and interpellation of the
viewer proves a fertile ground in which to observe this change. While
consumerism's efi‘ect on masculinity has been treated in various articles, I seek,
throughthisbook—lengthsmdy,toconsideritasthecentraldefining factorin
masculine subject formation as represented in Spanish cinema fi'om 1939 to the
present.

This dissertation is divided into 5 chapters. The present chapter defines the
subject under study, details the methodology used to approach it, defines the scope
of the project and outlines existing scholarship in the field. Chapter two considers
cmemaflratappcmeddmingthedictatorshipmeredefinedasthepefiodbetween
1939 and 1973 with the assassination of Carrero Blanco, Franco's designated
successor) especially regarding the promotion of a specific hegemonic model based
on self-sacrifice and prohibition. It also considers the ways in which this model was
underminedespecially inthe latterpartofthedictatorshipwhenthepromotion of
consumerist values began to conflict with it. While "art-house" cinema sought to
openly treat the disjuncture caused by economic changes, popular cinema looked
for ways to reconcile traditional hegemonic masculinity with the fundamentally
antithetical consumerist values, especially by focusing on a sort of hyper—

heterosexuality that allowed self-indulgence to coincide with heterosexual virility.

35

Chapter three explores the effect on masculinity of this opposition between the
traditional patriarchal model based on prohibition and hierarchy, and the
consumerist model that promoted self-indulgence and enjoyment. In the early part
of the Transition period (1973-1982) the abundant cinematic examples of "broken"
or "perverse" (considered within the context of the Oedipus complex) masculinities
reveal the incongruity ofthe two models as well as the pressures exerted on the
male individual in the aftermath of the death of the patriarchal father figure,
Francisco Franco. This death while not considered of utmost importance in and of
itself, does provide a convenient punctuation marking the end of the psychical reign
of the "father of prohibition," a moment represented in film by the appearance of
masculine models that undo the patriarchy and represent the liberalization of desire
that was taking place at the time. Chapter four continues to explore the
liberalization of desire as seen in films fi'om 1983 to 1992——a phenomenon that
came to be equated with modernity as seen in the widely promoted Almodovarian
model of fluid sexuality. Spanish cinema of this period, especially under Miro Law
funding that rewarded high-budget ”artistic” literary and historical adaptations
became homogenized, reflecting consensus politics as masculinities appeared to
become softer and masculine bodies were packaged for visual consumption much as
female bodies had been in the past. The chapter ends by analyzing the eruption of
various ”ghosts" of the past—unassimilated bits of Spanish history that embodied
themselves in films of the mystery and horror genres as well as those of regional
Basque cinema. Chapter five provides a briefview ofseveral trends in the

representationofmasculinityfioml993tothepresent. Duringthisperiodof

36

 

 

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heightened global consumerism cinema in Spain reflects a growing emphasis on
image over "reality" including the problematic disjuncture that occurs when one's
self-image is discontinuous with one's physical reality. Individualism increases in
importance as films focus on the hedonistic pleasure-seeking individual who
disregards the well-being of others. This trend often leads to alienation and
violence though some alternative models promoting connection with others appear
at this time as well. The representation of minority and regional masculinities
increaseinfi'equencythoughcharacters inthesefilmsareofienrelegatedtotoken
"exoticized" roles in continued subordination to white, heterosexual hegemonic

representations.

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Chapter 2: Hegemonic Masculinity under the Dictatorship

This chapter analyzes widely viewed Spanish films fiom the years 1939-
1973 regarding the subject positioning of masculine figures as well as their
relationship to viewers' subject formation. Among the films chosen are some which
represent the officially endorsed vision of masculinity during the Franco
dictatorshipsuchasthosefiomtheso—cafledcinedemaadafieatedinthefirst
section of this chapter, as well as others which question the hegemonic model. In
films of the early dictatorship period a clearly hegemonic model appears with little
variation—a physically strong, emotionally reserved character who shuns pleasure
infavorofservicctogodandcountry. Ineachfilmtheprinciplemalecharacter,
usually a positive representation of the officially promoted model especially in early
dictatorship films, is of primary importance for study. However, within these same
films there appear hysterical and mstable elements of "rmacceptable" masculinity
along with a variety of ways in which hegemonic models are undermined especially
in films made during the dictatorship. The role of women and children will also be
consideredintermsofthe wayinwhichtheyinteractwithandfacilitatetheprocess
of masculine subject formation. Furthermore, it is important to note that a film's
ideological effect can never be reliably calculated due to differences in
identifications and assimilation practices on the part of the viewer. Hegemonic
modelscouldbeundeuninedbyapublicwho,intheproccssofappropriafion,
participated in the act of creating meaning. These ”negative" models and
"unatrthorized'readingswill serveasanindicationofthefearsandpitfallsrelated

maccessionwflrehegemomcmodelandamespeciaflyimpormmforrmderstanding

38

the process of masculine identity formation in Franco's dictatorship Spain. Finally,
thischapterwill examinethecinematic reactionofmalecharacterstomeriseofa
consumerist society and its effect on masculine subject formation-a theme that
predominated in the 19505 and 19603. The shift fiom a society ofprohibition and
self-restraint to one of consumption and self-indulgence will be considered to be of
primaryimportanceinthecfisisofmasculinitythathasbeenpereeivedmost
notably in Spanish cinema in the 1970's.
I. Cine dc Cruzada: Self-Sacrifice and Insertion into the Masculine Hierarchy
The model of the "society of prohibition" as described by Todd McGowan
in The End of Dissatizfaction? is particularly appropriate in the Spanish context as
the National-Catholic State headed by Franco sought to dominate the individual.
Basing himself on Freud, who hypothesized an original mythic patricide as culture's
foundational moment, McGowan expands on the role of prohibition in society. In
Spain prohibitions were enforced by a brutal and unforgiving regime that sought
complete conformity to a hierarchical social structure allowing very little personal
fieedom to the individual, and brutally punishing transgressions. This phenomenon,
coupled with economic devastation and shortages caused by the war forced the
individual to renounce personal pleasure or risk censure, imprisonment or even
death. In exchange for conformity, the individual was granted a place in the social
hierarchy. The traditional mechanism of social wntrol in Spain, personal honor, or
"a good name," is seen in post-war films to be more important than personal
enjoymentorsatisfaction. Thistendencyisinkeepingwiththerequirementsofa

society of prohibition as described by McGowan: "A society of prohibition requires

39

 

 

 

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all its members to sacrifice their individual, private ways of obtaining enjoyment for
the sake of the social order as a whole. That is to say, one receives an identity fiom
society in exchange for one's immediate access to enjoyment, which one must give
up" (3). This social identity and public recognition were available, however, only
to male individuals who adopted a normative, heterosexual subject positioning
which ensured Mcipation in the social hierarchy. This subject positioning
centered itself on the transcendental phallus as the anchoring signifier, and equated
it with the penis, establishing patriarchal dominance in which ”deviance" was
punished through ostracism fi'om the public sphere. The war films described in this
section illustrate a connection between the renunciation of pleasure and the
insertion of the individual into a patriarchal social hierarchy—the greater the
renunciation, the more highly esteemed is the individual. In each of these films,
one or more of the characters struggle with this insertion, and the repetition of the
theme reveals the unstable and performative nature of the masculine heterosexual
subject positioning.

Franco's immediate concerns after fighting an economically and spiritually
exhausting civil war, were to legitimize his rebellion (T renzado Romero 56), to
achieve consensus among the populace and to ensure that the military hierarchical
social structure, with himself clearly at the fore, would be accepted and maintained.
ThoughithasbecnpointedoutthattheFrancoist Statcneverhadan
unproblematically clear nor coherent plan for the surveillance and reeducation of its
citizenry (1.62am Reboll 40), there was a definite recognition of the ideological

powerofcincmaby Franco,andJosé MariaCaparrosLeraasserts: "laverdades

 

 

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que si existia un cine politico: las famosas peliculas historicas, por ejemplo, jugaban
al desplazamiento temporal, esforzéndose en hallar en el pasado circurrstancias
similares en su ejemplaridad a [as que en ese momento se vivia en Espafla" (31).
cho's regime attempted to exploit cinema for its pin-poses starting with a
censorship effort even before the end of the war, and developing into a full-fledged
national cinema in the 19403 (T riana-Toribio 17). Though generally the state did
not directly produce its own cinema after the war, it controlled and directed
cinematic production with clear ideological goals through a system of cens0rship
and subsidies. As Trenzado Romero notes:
nosorprendequeenpocomasdeunlustroelmuydesreguladocine
espaflol pasase a estar sometido a una férrea censure (1937), inserto
en un sistema proteccionista altamente arbitrario (1941), sometido en
todos sus aspectos laborales y crediticios al sindicato r’mico (1942) y
con la cinematografia informativa obligatoria monopolizada por el
Nuevo Estado (1943). Por este motivo, podemos afirmar—en contra
de la historiografia conservadora de Méndez-Leite y otros—que la
implantacién de un sistema de proteccion a la cinematografia
obedecio mas a una estrategia comunicativa global dc control que a
un verdadero interés por la creacion de un tejido industrial solido.
(l 34)
The Franco dictatorship recognized that the control of dangerous ideas, and the
Promotion of desirable values could be obtained by controlling and directing the

cinema.

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Franco himself penned a glorified autobiography under the pseudonym
"Jaime de Andrade" which was then given to the director Luis Saenz de Heredia, a
nephew of the former dictator Miguel Primo de Rivera who came to be a "primary
exponent of cine cruzada" (Stone 28) to be released in 1941 as Raza. The crusade
cinema fihns produced in the years following the conflict in Spain (Higginbotham
19), which includes the four films discussed in this section, were considered the
most important vehicle for the dissemination of the Falange's extreme nationalism
in the early 19403. Indeed, as Mark Simpson suggests, the war film is specifically
concerned with masculinity: "The war film is perhaps the richest of all texts of
masculinity. Escape fiom the feminine, bloody initiation into manhood, male
bonding: these are all themes which the traditional war film employs. In a sense,
the war/military film is hardly ever about anything other than what it means to be a
man and how to become one" (212). A manifesto tlmt appeared in the newly
created F alangist film journal Primer Plano makes explicit the connection between
the aggressive masculinity represented in these films and Spanishness:
Notametrcmore . . .totryandgiveusmelodramainalamentable
exploitation of tenderness. [ . . . ] We want instead a cinema that
exaltsthedeedsandactionsofthosewhofoughtandgavetheirlives
for the mission and the greamess oftheir Patria with a spirit and an
outlook on life fundamentally Hispanic. (Anon. 1940 up. qtd. in
Triana Toribio 44)
This cinema contributes to the idea of a revaluation of violence as creative and

purifying through the celebration of militarism and martial values (T riana-Toribio

42

 

 

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46). As one of only three films in which the State intervened directly in its
production (along with Alba de America and Franco, ese hombre) (T renmdo
Romero 136) Raza may be considered emblematic of the ideology of the regime in
its early years. By observing the positioning of masculine characters as well as the
interpellated masculine viewer of this and other films of crusade cinema such as Sin
novedad en el alcazar (1940), Harka (1941) and Los filtirnos de Filipinas (1945),
we can observe how an ethos of self-sacrifice was solidified as power was
centralizedinthehandsofthe StateandtheChurch. Thegoodsubjectwasseen
not only to accept, but to embrace prohibition, receiving a sort of super-ego
satisfaction that resembles masochism. Each of these films uses history as the basis
for a non-historical elaboration of the themes of brotherhood, tradition, crusade,
obedience, self-sacrifice and a sort of transcendent experience of masculinity that,
even as it finds itself subservient to higher powers, draws the assurance that within
the rigid hierarchy in which it is placed, it will be recognized and respected. Each
film also contains negative mic figures, characters that are shown to be undesirable
asrole modelsandwho fail totriumph,andarcthus exposedasclearly inferiorto
the positive models that embody those values considered important by the State.

Obviouslythese filmsfiomthepostwarperiod didnotintroduccthevalues
mentioned into Spanish consciousness but, like their recycling of history, recycled
older ideas such as servitude, obedience to the Catholic Church, the virtue of
suffering and male dominance over women since Franco encouraged machismo as
well as political and national chauvinism (Hopewell 31). The repetition and

elevation of these values within widely viewed films, as well as the exclusion of

43

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other points of view served to promote a certain vision of manhood. Virginia
Higginbotham draws on Barthes' conception of myth in her groundbreaking work
on Spanish cinema during the dictatorship, to point out that:
History transformed into myth becomes distorted and duplicitous in
order to serve not fact or authenticity, or even the demands of the
box office, but an intention. Franco's intention, of course, was to
force acceptance of his military dictatorship, and he used film as a
visual language to impose the mythology of his regime. (x)
And while his ideas were not new they served an ideological purpose such as that
described by Alan Williams in Film and Nationalism; "If [films] cannot by
themselves mobilize nations and give them a new direction, they can, apparently,
reflect and keep in circulation values and behaviors associawd with a particular
nation" (8). By keeping in circulation a particular vision of masculinity, these films
propagated a hegemonic model that excluded contesting representations and
attempted to cement the male into a role within a strictly hierarchical model in
which any satisfaction the subject was allowed to experience was to come from
self-abnegation and identification of the self with society as a whole.
Theepicmodelrepresentedinthesefilmsprovidesanexaltedfiameworkin
which to stage masculinity's frmctioning against a tumultuous wartime backdrop. A
mythic mid timeless basis is established in each ofthese films either by portraying
ormakingreferenceto Spanishwarsofthepast, orby stagingtheaction inremote,
exotic locations as ifto recall Spain's ”glorious” colonial past. In Raza it is through

referencetotheAlmogavares, inLos rillimosde Filipinos itisthe struggle ata

remote outpost in the Philippine islands, and in Harka through the exotic dress and
backdrop of the Moroccan desert. This geographical and historical remove acts to
limit the possibility of initiating any sort of divisive debate related to present reality,
but also provides a sense of inevitability in the implication that the Nationalist
triumph over the Republican State is the logical outcome of a universal history. As
Benedict Anderson states, ”it is the magic of nationalism to turn chance into
destiny" (12). The film presents "ideals" and "values" which have largely been in
circulation in Spain for hundreds of years, played out here in stilted and
exaggerated situations. In this way, masculinity is not created anew, but rather,
those influences and widely circulating characteristics that served the early
dictatorship's need for social order and obedience are brought to the fore. By using
the word "cnrsade" to describe this cinema, a connection is made to the "holy" wars
of the past against the non-Christian "infidel" which were supposedly won through
divine support. The frequent allusions to a divine authority in these films serve to
support the idea that, in challenging a democratically elected state, the rebels were
answeringtoahigherpowerandthercforecannotbequestioned, nordotheyneed
to justify themselves before earthly judges.

Through a process of ”remembering" a glorious and continuous past which
culminates in the present moment, as well as a "forgetting" of those details and
events that detract fiom the meaning of the fascistically unambiguous message,
these films act to create a context which has been described by Benedict Anderson
as being necessary for a profound change in consciousness: "All profound changes
inconsciousness, bytheirverynattue,bringwiththemcharacteristicamnesias. Out

45

A _

   

of such oblivious, in special historical circumstances, spring narratives, because it
cannot be remembered it must be narrated" (204). Joseba Gabilondo has also noted
this tendency: "Renan ya apuntaba en el XD( la importancia del olvido en la
construccién de las naciones: 'Olvidar y—me atreveria a decir—malinterpretar la
historia de uno son factores esenciales en la construccién de una nacion'"
("Histéricos con casta" 123). These films narrate the meaning of "Spain" and
"Spanishness" through a manipulation of the male character who, wearing the
uniform that represents his country, metonymically speaks and acts as a
representative of the whole and for the greater good of the nation rather than for
himselforany individual. His actionsdonotrespondtohis immediateneeds or
desires, but rather are embedded in a larger context and seem to exist on a higher
plane where personal sacrifice is the maximum value.

In these military films, the hierarchical organization of society is strongly
emphasized. In Rana, the family mimics the military hierarchy and reinforces this
structure as the basis for all human relations. It is a structurally simple film, with a
linear narrative, few principal characters, continuous action and a thematic unity, all
of which make it accessible to the viewer and limit the possibility of "nus-readings"
by the public. The viewer is sutured into a stable identity within the hierarchy
through a process of identification motivated by an avoidance of "castration" which
is relieved through the traditional shot/reverse-shot sequence. Raza employs a
number of characteristics which facilitate suture on the part of the viewer and thus
contributetotheacceptanceofvaluesrepresentedinit. Asthefalsificationofthe

"I" is necessary in order to solidify the ideological position of the spectator, the

spectator needs to understand and feel familiar with the events represented on the
screen. Inthiscasethepatriarchal familystandsinastheeasilyrecognizable
socializing unit. The value of recognition in the process of learning an ideological
position has been explained by Bill Nichols in Ideology and the Image:
"Recognition of the familiar in the realist image . . . belongs to this pattern of
confirmation. . .Alltheviewerneeddoisfallintoplaceassubject,aneasystep
yielding the pleasure of recognition as identity is once again confirmed" (3 8). The
simplicity of the realistic style of Raza coupled with the representation of the
nuclear family allows the viewer to enter smoothly into an identification with this
well-known hierarchy—an identification more universally acceptable than the
military one. The essential point, that of identifying oneself within a hierarchical
structure, with the self-sacrificing male patriarchal military figure as dominant, has
been accomplished. It is important to note that the dominant male, the Churruca
patimehandlaterhissonsmenotseenmsacfificeflremselvesfmthosebeneath
him, but rather for an even greater entityuthe patria.

The play of subservient gazes within the film reinforces this hierarchical
arrangement, with servants looking to the mother, the mother and children looking
tothepatriarch, or, inhisabsenceatsomepointinthedistance,andthepatriareh
looking off with his gaze elevated as if seeing some vision in the heavens, as he
speaks about duty, responsibility and sacrifice. Figures within the film may be seen
to look directly at their inferiors (the mother to the servant or children, the male
childtothefemale,thefathertohischildren, ctc.)butthisprirnarilyoccm'swhen
thedominantfigureisengagedinteachinghis/hcrinferiors. Theactualphysieal

47

placement of characters within the scene reinforces this hierarchy, with dominant
figures being either taller or placed in a higher or more central position than their
inferiors. This is of special interest in two early scenes in Raza which establish the
hierarchical importance ofthe sons. In the first ofthese, the young Pedro races
around the table trying to catch his sister. Their mother, Isabel, interrupts the
dispute and brings order, disciplining Pedro (the child Isabel leaves the scene
immediately, indicating that she is of no importance, not even worthy of her
mother's attempts at discipline). Pedro, who will be seen to be morally inferior to
his brother Luis, is placed at a normal child's height next to his mother and is forced
tolookupatherasshespeaks. Thiscontrastswiththefollowingsceneinwhichan
excited Luis calls to his mother fi'om the top of the stairs with the news that their
father will soon return home on leave. Isabel climbs the stairs towards him, but
stops short of the top thus causing Luis to appear taller than she and therefore
physically dominant and of superior importance. Although the mother is shown as
a primary figure within the nuclear family, she is not seen to have any existence of
her own, but rather reflects exactly the being ofher husband. She mouths the
patriarchal discourse repeating and upholding his opinions and is seen as nothing
morethananextension ofherhusbandandthesocial orderherepresents.

Female figures in Sin novedad en el alccizar serve a similar purpose. The
film, though made by an Italian director, has been called "the prototype ofthe
Spanish Civil War Epic" (Higginbotham 18) and was inspired by events that
supposedly took place in Toledo in the days following the outbreak of the Civil

War. Colonel Jose Moscardo and a group of nationalist soldiers, on hearing news

48

 

 

 

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of the coup d'etat, seized the military academy in Toledo and took possession of the
weapons stored there in order to keep them fiom falling into Republican hands. In
order to protect their families fiom any possible reprisals, the women and children
were moved to occupy the cellars of the alccizar and stayed there during the siege
that then took place. The fihn's action revolves around the captain, whose
protagonism and exemplary behavior mark him as the positive male model in the
film. He is universally admired by the soldiers, his soldier's fiance Conchita, and
her fiiend Carmen who quickly falls in love with him. Although granted a degree
ofindependenceandagencyinearlyscenes,Carmencomestorealizethatitis
throughsubmissiontoflremflitaryprojecgasanm'seintheinfirmary,thatshewill
achieve happiness and fulfillment. She is ever subject (and happily so) to her true
love, the captain, a man universally praised by his subordinates. Another soldier,
physically somewhat unattractive and of lesser rank, who attempts to serve her and
satisfy her whims, bringing her a softer pillow, etc., is shown to be a defective male.
He is weak, thin, bespectacled, disrespected and, finally, rejected as a suitor. On
theotherlmrd,thecaptainwhomfirseswcomiderthedcmmidsofthewoman,and
is seen as serving a higher purpose, once again the patria, becomes the focal point
fortheattention ofotherswithinthefilm, includingbeingtheobjectofthe gazeof
his inferiors. In one scene, the besieged receive word that the nationalist troops
have won an important military victory and are advancing on the alcazar. Those
within rejoice and break into patriotic song along with shouts of "Viva Espatla.”
Thecaptainisseenfrornalowangleshotsingingenergeticallywithhisgazefixed

on some invisible point in the distance. A cut to Carmen's face reveals that she is

49

singing as well while staring at her beloved with a similarly transfixed expression
thus establishing her submission to him. Another rejected suitor—who will later be
shot due to his carelessness—is shown to be looking at Carmen rather than keeping
his eyes on the higher goal as does the captain. He is also portrayed as an inferior
sort of male who does not keep his sense of duty in the forefi'ont and is therefore not
"worthy" ofmarryingCarmen. Onhisdeathbedheseemstorecognizehisown
failure and urges the captain to claim what he was unable to—Carmen's hand in
marriage, demonstrating his submission as well as woman's status as an object to be
exchanged among men--an identifying characteristic of a patriarchal society

And again in this film a highly stratified hierarchy is conveyed not only by
rank, but by gaze. Superiors are respectful of their inferiors, but allow no personal
consideration to interfere with the observance ofthe functioning oftheir rank. The
captain not only refuses to accommodate an attractive woman by looking for a
pillow as the "defective” male did, he requisitions her bed for the infirmary without
the least consideration of her feelings. Later, in an exaggerated show of dedication
tothelargercause,thegeneral sacrificeshisownson. Hereceivesacallfiomthe
chief oflicer of the militia, an overweight, unkempt, apparently ill-mannered leader
of the "obviously" treacherous and unworthy opposition, demanding that they
surrender in exclmnge for the life of the general's son. The general immediately
decides to sacrifice his son telling him "muere como un pm'iota." The son, with
extreme calm and submission to the will of his father and military superior says,
"Si, lo hare, papa" as he raises his eyes to heaven and stoically renounces his own

existence for the greater good of the patria. This eye-raising gaze is used

50

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repeatedly within these films as a way of indicating that the character is responding
to a higher or divine call or purpose. Jose Colmeiro refers to this "mirada
arrebatada" in the context of another important early dictatorship film, Alba de
América (1951), indicating that it denotes the dream of a mystical-imperial sense of
destiny ("El sueflo transatlantico" 83). Those characters exercising this gaze
remove themselves fi'om earthly reasons or justice and are seen as exempt fiom it.
It is easy to imagine why this gaze and the reason behind it were favored by Franco,
who had only very recently rebelled against a legally elected government in order to
install himself as dictator and "Caudillo dc Bspafia por la gracia de Dios," and who
nowwishedtobe seenas legitimated byahigherpower.

Identification with the opposition to the nationalist troops is prevented in
various ways. The vast majority of the action takes place in the nationalist
environment within the alcdzar. The opposition forces are seen in battle to be
distantrmorganizedandunattrmtive. Whenthey appearintheshotofthe
sequestered son, the soldiers again seem an ill-behaved rabble, drinking, smoking
and laughing callously. The camera does not dwell on them as individuals, but
rather presents a general shot of their headquarters without entering in to engage in
the shot/reverse-shot sequences that have been indicated to be productive in the
process of suturing the viewer into a subject position. In this way the model of
masculinity that is represented by opposition to the nationalist cause is rejected as
an option for viewer identification. Real political motives are never attributed to

either side, but rather a development of the positive subject identification with the

51

stoic and self-sacrificing nationalists and the prevention of any with the apparently
self-indulgent, chaotic opposition hoops is achieved.

Likewise, in Los altimos de F ilipinas, shot several years later, there is an
attempt to effect an identification with the heroic Spanish troops while maintaining
a distance fiom any contact with the enemy. The "Tagalogs" who appear only
rarely are seen in battle scenes to descend like a horde—without organization or
bravery and except for Tala, a Philippino woman who falls in love with a Spanish
man, are never considered as individuals nor even feeling human beings. Colmeiro
interprets this representation as a: "vista orientalista que representa negativamente a
los filipinos (como traidores, indignos de confianza, sediciosos, crueles) y que
afirma la irnplicita superioridad moral y cultural espaiiola" ("Nostalgia colonial"
300). Tala herself serves as the ultimate representation of the ”Other" and foil to
the Spanish troops. She is doubly marked as a woman and as a foreigner and her
metonymic relationship with the Philippinos further feminizes them. In contrast the
viewer observes the Spanish soldiers receiving mail, experiencing camaraderie and
love, laughing, and expressing emotions—allowing an identification to take place.
This identification places the viewers (like the soldiers) in a position as servants to a
higher cause which is heroically defended without consideration for individual
needs which have been sublirnated in those of their nation. It is interesting that in
the second lmlfof this film, while hierarchical authority is still respected, it is the
authority of a dead figure-head, the captain who has been killed in battle. As the
highest ranked living officer, the lieutenant is ostensibly the leader after the

captain'sdeath,butthroughoutthelatterpartofthefilmhecanbeseen"consulting"

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at the graveside of his deceased superior. The clear hierarchical demarcation
between the captain and the soldiers does not exist between the lieutenant and his
men. Though he is obviously respected as the leader, the soldiers do not snap to
attentionwhenheentersaroomasthcydidwiththecaptain. Hespeakswiththem
in a natural way and can even be seen in one moment delivering refieshments to an
on-duty soldier during their Christmas party. As in Raza, here the death of the
actual father figure is not seen to interfere or alter the workings of the hierarchical
machine. Quite to the contrary, in passing fiom a real, living male figure to a dead
patriarch, the patriarchal father's power is increased. He becomes omnipresent in
memoryascanbeseeninthevoice—overoccurrencesofthefatherfigureinboth
Raza and Los tiltimos de Filipinos. His voice transcends the individual and exists in
the atmosphere as eternal and infallible. Among survivors, a shift in emphasis can
be perceived fi'om the hierarchical structure and a focus on "father" as in Sin
novedad en el alcazar and the earlier part of Raza, to an emphasis on brotherhood
and a sense of comraderie among self-denying equals in the second half of Raza
and in the later fihn, Los riltimos de F ilipinas. It is exactly this movement that
Freud considered to be formdational for the establishment of culture in which a
social orderwasestablishedbasedonmutual renrmciation.

The renunciation of one's own pleasure for the sake of a greater cause is a
dominanttheme inthe filmspertainingtocrusadecinema. Sacrifice isclearly
shown to be superior to the pursuit of pleasure, and reckless or extreme self-
sacrifice isthehighestofmalevirtues. InRazathe "bad" brotherPedro notonly

arpports the Republican side, he is portrayed as a sensualist, more interested in his

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own personal advancement than any political purpose. His inferiority is represented
in a scene where, outfitted in a dress-like silk smoking jacket, he approaches his
mother to ask for his inheritance. The superior brother, José, is seen in military
dress, by his mother's side and asking for nothing. A connection is made between
the feminized brother and the pursuit of self-gratification——something that is clearly
renounced by the end when Pedro realizes his error, dons a military uniform and
sacrifices his own life for the patria. Their brother-in—law, who shows weakness in
longing for home and his family, also comes to the realization that service is more
important than his personal gratification. Self-sacrifice reaches heroic proportions
inthefilmwhenJoséisarrestedforespionage. Incourtabouttobeexonerated,he
interrupts proceedings to declare his own guilt thus sacrificing his life before the
inevitable punishment of the firing squad. As mentioned, in Sin novedad en el
alcdzar self-indulgence is seen to be a weakness and is clearly connected with the
feminine. It isCarmenwho seeks comfortandonlyweakandinferiormenwho
would try to please her (and thus win her favor). Those dominant male figures in
the film—me general and the captain-me shown to completely disregard their own
benefit for the sake of the patria—the general in sacrificing his own son, and the
captain in ignoring the desires ofa beautiful woman and thus, apparently, foregoing
the possibility of gaining access to her sexually.

Another film from the period, Harka (1941), also clearly connects self-
indulgence with the woman and represents her as something to be avoided; the
film's misogynistic representations of women have been described as ”dismissive,

castration-anxiety hivializations" (Evans 218). In this film an officer stationed in

the Spanish controlled Morocco longs for the comfort of home and the woman he
loves. He discusses this longing with his superior officer who is seen as a sort of
super-man who lives to serve. When asked if he ever needs a bit of human warmth,
thecaptainstandsup,arrogantlygrabsawoman fi'omherdancepartneranddances
with her himself: "El mensaje, explicito y tajante, se emite sin vacilaciones: la
mujer no tiene sino la categoria de objeto, y como tal, se toma 0 se deja, se trafica
con ella, con 0 sin contrato matrimonial" (Gomez 576). Through the captain's
actions it is implied that if he does need such warmth from time to time he simply
takes it without getting emotionally involved since he has dedicated himself to the
needs of his country. His attitude reveals the patriarchal moral double standard
whereby prostitution was tacitly approved of during the dictatorship while women
who participated in it were condemned. The officer leaves the desert for home and
in a series of juxtaposed scenes can be shown dancing, dining and enjoying the
pleasures of Madrid and his wife, while the campaign in Africa is being fought
without him. He finally repents of his lapse into self-indulgence and at the end of
thefilmeanbeseen, backinAfiica,trainingu'oops forservice. Finally, inLos
ultimos de F ilipinas we see this tendency toward self-sacrifice reach almost
ludicrous proportions. The besieged soldiers obstinately refuse to accept that the
war is over even after they are presented with a considerable amount of evidence to
support this conclusion. Led by the lieutenant who is now the highest-ranking
officer, they seem to happily remain at this far-flung outpost, singing and going
about their duties uncomplainingly. When the opposing Philippine forces offer

them the possibility of re-supplying their position with food and other necessities,

55

 

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they reply by refusing any assistance, actually sending a bottle of Sherry and some
cigars to their enemies. It is a sort of grand gestme that seems the essence of the
”gran caballero" or Spanish gentleman of the past--the ideal man will not only
serve, but will happily go without, thus proving his superiority to others. Again
womancanbe seenasathreattothis ideal asthelove-struckJuanseemsmore
dominated by his feelings for Tala than he is for the patria. He clearly disobeys
orders on a couple of occasions and when he does offer himself for heroic duty, it is
more for her sake than for Spain's.

In exchange for self-sacrifice, the male figures in these films gain in
recognition-among their peers certainly, but also in the world. In Los riltimos de
Filipinas, the lieutenant who has led his men in their futile resistance, foregoing any
sort of material comforts for the sake of duty—even a duty that seems foolhardy and
excessive as his has turned out to be in light of Spain's official surrender, is afforded
thestatusofherointhefinalscene. Alongtakeonhissternfaceandfixedgazeas
he marches in retreat among ranks of the enemy standing at attention, is
amefimposedbyshotsofmwspaperheadlheslaudinghisresishncenswellasa
shot of an applauding crowd and a voice-over proclaiming his status as "héroe en
Espafla." He isahero notbecausehehasachievedvictory,bmbecausehehas
(recklessly and obstinately, it can easily be argued) sacrificed himself and his troops
"for the patria."

But while the soldiers depicted in these films are seen resisting the self-

indulgence of a love relationship with a woman, a high level of intimacy between

56

 

 

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men is characteristic. Anthony Easthope, commenting on The Deer Hunter
observes:
In the dominant versions of men at war, men are permitted to behave
towards each other in ways that would not be allowed elsewhere,
caressing and holding each other, comforting and weeping together,
admittingtheir love. Thepainofwaristhepricepaid forthe way it
expresses the male bond. War's suffering is a kind of punishment for
the release of homosexual desire and male femininity that only the
war allows. In this special form the male bond is fully legitimated.
(qtd. in Eberwein 66)
There are many instances of intimate, soul-baring discussions between men, as well
as scenes of singing, dancing, rough-housing, embracing, etc. which contrast
sharply in their simple joyfulness and comraderie with the strained, frequently
conflict-ridden relationships with women in the films: ”El grade dc misoginia es tan
marcado que algunas escenas de Harka rayan de algr’rn modo en el homoerotismo al
plantear que las necesidades sexuales y afectivas han de ser suplidas por el tipo de
camaraderia viril propia de la institucidn militar" (deez 576). Furthermore, the
film's sofilightingandlingeringclose—ups suchasthetwoofficersbondinginthe
desert night, engage melodramatic conventions to the effect that the film,
"astonishingly succeeds in apparently condoning homosexuality" (Evans 219).
With women actually and metaphorically "out of the picture" the purifying
sparsenessofthedesertallowsthemalebondtocomedangerouslyclosetocrossing

thehne—therebycreafinganmflhofitarianfilmflratdramatizesflreremmofflre

57

 

 

 

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repressed homosexual desire that Freud theorized must be overcome for the
successful resolution of the oedipal complex. However, despite this obvious
homosocial element, there invariably appears a strictly masculine element that
serves to mitigate any blatant suggestion of homosexuality. Also war, like football
in Mark Simpson's Male Impersonators, provides the ultimate heterosexual mask
whose presence serves to prevent any possibility of slippage from the strictly
hetero- into the realm of homosexuality. For example, in Los riltimos de F ilipinas
one of the soldiers, a more physically soft and rounded figure who works as the
cook (played by Manolo Moran), is playfully attacked on his bed by his
companions. The "conflict" however is over a photo of his girlfiiend in Spain, and
thus heterosexuality is asserted despite possible homosexual undertones that might
be perceived in a scene representing such intimate physical contact between men.
While heterosexual masculinity is indisputably the only option officially
offered in crusade cinema, at times it seems as if it would be a heterosexuality
devoid of women. The idea of the inherent superiority of men over women is
ubiquitous and manhood takes on a kind of transcendent quality in which the male’s
"natural" ascendance over the female is never questioned, and in which the female
isseenasadirectthreattotheperformanceofone'sduty. This isthecaseinRaza
as the Churruca brother-in-law considers abandoning his post to be reunited with
his wife, or in Sin novedad en el alcdzar when the love-distracted soldier allows
himself to get shot through carelessness, and most obviously in Harka, as the
soldier Carlos is forced to leave his post in Africa upon the demand ofhis wife, thus

incurring the disapproval of his beloved Captain Santiago. In this last film the

58

 

 

 

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conflict is clearly shown through a series of juxtaposed shots of Carlos enjoying life
with his beautiful wife on Madrid's social scene, with cuts of the captain waging
battle in the Afiican desert. Women are considered to be self-centered and
incapable of full citizenship since they are unable to subordinate their personal
interests into those of the state: "Los protagonistas . . . encuentran sentido a su
existencia en la guerra y en la muerte heroica, mientras que las mujeres son
presentadas como estorbos para la realizacién de estos ideales, al no ser capaces de
subordinar la causa individual a la nacional" (Gomez 576). Peter Evans has also
notedthat: "'Asinmanyotherfilmsoftheperiodwheretheyareseenasthreatsto
the male group, women are identified with frivolity and self-indulgence,
compromising the masculinity of the virile male" (qtd. in Gomez 576). In a system
of the symbolic exchange of one's pleasure for social recognition in a hyper-
Catholic, hierarchically-ordered society like Spain in the 19403, the male must be
ever-wary of the female who might threaten his position and cause his downfall.
The only socially sanctioned avenue to affection and repose open to the
heterosexualmaleinthesefilmsseemstobefoundinthecompanyofothermen.
While an idealized marriage to the "right" woman, (usually one far away and
mainly dreamed about) may be permitted, a true mutually respectful male-female
relationship between equals seems impossible given the social structure in place.
AsCarmenMardnGaitepointsoWdrissortoffiiendshipwasexpressly
discouraged under the dictatorship and Pilar Primo de Rivera, head of the Seccio'n

fernenina,promotedtheideathatawomanmuststrivealwaystomaintainanairof

59

 

 

 

 

 

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mystery and distance fi'om men (including her husband) while always subordinating
herselfto them (Martin Gaite 63).

Patriarchal, heterosexual, self-sacrificing masculinity is seen as transcendent
inthesefilmsandreaches itsmaximumexpressioninthe figureofthemartyred
warrior-father, the ultimate signifier that anchors and gives meaning to all other
signifiers. As Peter Lehman has pointed out, in a heterosexist, male-dominated
patriarchy there is an implicit connection between the phallus, or final symbolic
signifier, and the penis, or visible signal of masculinity which is understood to be
possessed by male characters. This implied connection is maintained, according to
Lehman, not through displaying the penis, but rather by hiding it from view while at
the same time presenting male figures as capable, dominant, self-sufficient and,
above all, not "feminine" in any way. The actual individual penis cannot be
revealed at the risk of revealing it in its flaccid and non-powerful state. The
inducement to identify with the patriarchal order and the phallus-penis connection is
the promise of relief from castration anxiety. Kaja Silverman discusses the
maintenance of this mythic relation and states: "Man comes to believe that he has
not been castrated because he (mis)equates penis with phallus" (Male Subjectivity
43). Crusade cinema promoted a heterosexist, male-dominated social hierarchy in a
reflection of Franco's agenda and these films reflect the maintenance of the
justification for the existing unequal state of affairs in post-war Spain. The
apparently incontrovertible support of patriarchal dominance is the dead father
figure. Whether it be the Churruca patriarch, the captain at the Philippine outpost,

the dedicated soldier in the Morrocan desert or God "the Father," the dead male

 

patriarchal figure serves to order and organize the consciousness and acts of the
srn'viving male soldiers. The words of this figure are remembered in flashbacks and
voiceovers in all four of the films mentioned here. Their words mimic ideological
dogma promoted by the regime asking for subordination and self-sacrifice: ”e1
deber es tanto mas hermoso cuando mas sacrificio" (Raza). The "ultimate” sacrifice
ofthese male figures serves as a model and guiding principle for those left behind
who band together as brothers, renouncing personal satisfaction in order to uphold
the social order ordained by the dead patriarch. Already ingrained in the public
imagination, the idea of the ”Great Absent Hero” had been developed in relation to
Falange party founder and "martyr" Jose Antonio Primo de Rivera, and just as in
these films, it was invoked as an ideal for which to strive.

Later, as the dictatorship became stabilized and as Franco's power base
shifted fiom the military to the Catholic Chmch, the off screen interlocutor tended
away from the dead patriarchal warrior father toward the even further removed,
ultimate father figure—the Catholic god. As Triana-Toribio notes: "After 1945, as
the regime downplayed its fascist connections and past and the Catholic Church
took on a more central ideological role, we see a substantial increase in the number
of religious narratives among the winners [of the "National Interest" designation]"
(54). One popular film that surely facilitated this ideological shift was Balarrasa
(1950) by Jose Antonio Nieves Conde. Combining the virile warrior model with
the ascetic religious figure in the character "Balarrasa," this film presents a soldier-
turned-priest who proves himself superior both on and off the battlefield.

"Balarrasa," Captain Javier Mendoza, played by Fernando Fernan Gomez, is a

61

Catholic priest who appears at the opening of the film pulling an overloaded sled in
the Alaskan tundra and who is apparently at the point of death fiom exhaustion.
The rest ofthe film takes the form ofan extended flashback ofhis life, first as the
hard-drinking, hard-fighting, womanizing Captain Mendoza and then through his
epiphany and transition to the ultimate figure of self-renunciation—Father Javier
Mendoza. Butbeforehecansettleintohisnewlifeatthemonasteryheissent
home to resolve old issues with his family which has fallen into disarray since the
death of his mother. Her portrait still hangs in the family living room, visible in
many of the scenes that occur there, but she seems to have lost her place as spiritual
center of the family. Father Mendoza resolves to restore it and, one by one he
brings the apparently hardened and cynical family members back to recognition of
the importance ofunity and self-restraint as they are convinced to give up lives of
self-indulgence and debauchery.

It is interesting to note that both the soldier and the priest are founded on the
same ideal of masculine strength, although the soldier seems to have strayed from
dreaccompanymgvimwofself-sacfificewhichwasseenmflrewarfilmsdiscussed
previously. The film makes much of the rejuvenation of Father Mendoza within the
wallsofthemonasterywhereheis shownstudyingforhomsonendinhissmall
cell without any of the comforts that he previously enjoyed. His moral
rehabilitation seems directly related to his embracing asceticism and renouncing all
pleasm'esexceptthosethatmaybe foundinworkand service. Inone sceneheis
caught whistling happily by his superior who frowns dimvinsly-”Demasiad0.

mo?"—and recognizes Mendoza as he continues silently down the corridor. It is as

62

 

if by stripping away the pursuit of pleasure as well as material goods-such as the
watch won in a card game (that comes to symbolize his near-death since its
previous owner is shot soon after losing it) the protagonist gains in power and
respect He emerges fiom the momstery with all his masculine strength intact, but
now with an added moral authority. It allows him to reprimand his brother who has
just thrown a punch at him by saying: "Lo que acabas de hacer no soluciona nada,”
though just a short while earlier he would have been the one to turn to violence.
The film would put the fiatemal conflict aside for a new religious order based not
on the law of man, but on that of the divine, thus reflecting the dictatorship's
interest in distancing itself from its violent past. However, his moral authority is
never far removed fiom the threat of the use of force as is seen when he advises his
weak, bespectacled neighbor to fight, for the attentions of the woman he adores.
The priest Balarrasa watches fi'om the sidelines with great satisfaction as his
protegé knocks the rival to the ground. The concept of "Muscular Christianity,"
though elaborated mainly in the context of Victorian England, serves to illustrate
the glossing effect that is produced by linking religious masculinity to physical
strength, " [ . . . ] a central, even defining, characteristic of muscular Christianity
[is]: an association between physical suength, religious certainty, and the ability to
shape and control the world around oneself“ (Hall 7). By maintaining in essence
thesmnemasculinevirmesembodiedinthewarfiorsofearfierfimthisfilm
facilitates an adjustment and ideological shift that does not erase the patriarchal
orderofthepasgbutratherembedsitmore firmly inasublimeordersupportedby
the Catholic religion. Balarrasa does not hear the words ofhis earthly father who is

63

shown to be weak and ineffectual, but rather those of a god that inspire him to the
sameendashispredecessorsuthetotal sacrificeofselfasheembracesdeathatthe
end of the film and surrenders himself to the divine father: "Tu diras si esta es la
hora[. . . ] Tr’rdisponmdenuestrasvidas." The focusthroughoutonthevirile
strength of the protagonist works to keep at bay the threats and ambiguities that
have been working in post-war Spain to undermine the model of masculine
superiority while directing the individual toward the same end—self-sacrifice and
respect for the patriarchal hierarchy. So while an apparent shift in power elevates
the Catholic Church in this film, it continues to maintain the fimdamental values of
the dictatorship—renunciation of the self, masculine domination, a hierarchical
social organization and ultimately, violence.
[1. Naturalization of the Male Gaze: The "Other" on Display

However secure one's position was within the masculine, hetero-sexist
hierarchy as promised in the cine de armada or the transitional film Balarrasa,
many of the grand CIFESA (Compaflia Industrial del Film Espafiol, S.A.)
productionsofthelater 1940$withtheirelaboratesetsandbeautiful femalestars
belie an ever present castration anxiety in their focus on the fetishized female stars'
bodies. CIFESA, Spain's longest waning and most powerful film production
company during the postwar period, was considered to be the studio that most
faithfully collaborated by portraying Franco's regime as favorable (Higginbotham
4) and it produced large-scale historical epics, usually starring women, such as
Locum de amor (1948) by Juan de 0rdufla ("una de la peliculas de mais éxito de

taquilla del cine espafiol," Barroso 110) as well as La princesa de las Ursinos

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(1947), La duquesa de Benameji (1949), Pequefieces (1950), Agustina de Arago’n
(1950), La Ieona de Castilla (1951) and Lola Ia piconera (1951). De Ordufia was
also responsible for extremely popular melodramas such as El riltirno cuple' (l 95 7),
another of the largest box-office hits in Spain. The production of visually
engrossing super-productions developed throughout the poverty-stricken 19405 and
into the early 1950s where historical epics and melodramas, often centering on
female stars, were joined by new melodramatic subgenres such as the so-called cine
con cum and cine con niiio. What many of these films shared in common was a
shift in focus fi'om that of crusade cinema with its active, heterosexual male leads—-
to the woman, the asexual religious figure or the child, and flour historical epic to
melodrama. The male stars of the previous decade are no longer the focus in many
of these films as the masculine-dominant position is assumed to be ”naturalized." It
is not apparently questioned during this period but is implied as a given, or neutral,
spectator role. As Pierre Bordieu says, "The strength of the masculine order is seen
in the fact that it dispenses with justification: the androcentric vision imposes itself
asneutralandhasnoneedtospell iwelfomindiscomsesaimedatlegitimatingit"
(9). A dictatorship now firmly entrenched and receiving international recognition
as legitimate, as Spain was in the 19503 (due to the resumption of diplomatic
relations with the United States and its subsequent entry into the United Nations in
1955) approved for production films which compensated for the real feeling of lack
experienced by a poverty-stricken and often unemployed populace by providing
them with visual spectacle. The individual's lack of personal freedom and power

was made up for by a privileged viewing-subject position in which all-men,

65

women and children alike—were encornaged to understand the masculine
heterosexual gaze as supreme.

By taking the "Other" as the object of contemplation, the implied male
heterosexual viewer establishes his superiority and, temporarily at least, relieves his
own castration anxiety brought about doubly as, on one hand he enters into the
phallic order and is thus subjugated to a hierarchy in which his status is always
unstable, and on the other, as the Lacanian speaking subject who has sacrificed the
”Real" in order to enter into the symbolic order. As Silverman has indicated, by
locating lack onto the woman, the little boy is restored to imaginary wholeness. By
forcingtheidentificationofthe womanwith lack,themancausesherto "bearthe
scar of the castration by which both she and the male subject enter language,
granting him the illusion of an as yet intact being. The coherence of the male
subject is threatened as much by the distance that separates him fiom the phallus as
by the distance that separates him fiom the real" (”Acoustic Mirror" 23-4). Thus
the objectified ”Other" in these films serves a compensatory function in the male
psyche while allowing society as a whole to recognize the male, heterosexual
viewer as subject and the female/effeminate man or priest/child position as object.
In Silverman's assesment: ”Lacan's formula [ . . . ] encourages us to understand that
psychic formation as a mechanism for plugging the hole of symbolic castration or
lack by positing a particular object as the cause of desire" (Male Subjectivity 5).
Thatdesiremaybesexual oritmaybeadesire formastery,butinbothcasesthe
anxiety produced by the fundamental lack inherent in this model of patriarchal
heterosexual masculinity is effectively suppressed.

 

 

"
{L44— ._ 4‘

I I . I I I I I .III

 

The film Locura de amor demonstrates the normalizing of the masculine
domirmnt position through the problematized representation of the "hysterical"
female. This movie was part of a propaganda effort of the Franco regime to erase
the Black Legend and to extol the ”traditional” values of the "true" Spain—true
meaning nationalistic, non-foreign with the archvillains being the Flemish allies of
the King and the Jewish girl played by a very young Sara Montiel. It extols the
nobility‘s loyalty to the pure Hispanic lineage of Queen Juana (Aurora Bautista),
hencetoSpain. However, despitethefactthatthequeenisapparentlythe
protagonist, the story is narrated in a series offlashbacks by Captain Alvaro de
Estr’rfliga (Jorge Mistral) to the future King Carlos V (Ricardo Acero) and thus
provides the fiamework for a masculine perception of the events. The captain
relates the story of the tragic and obsessive love of Queen Juana for her foreign
husband, King Felipe "e1 Hermoso" of Flanders, a man who does not return her
love, but rather seeks sexual satisfaction outside his marriage. The king is
presented as a hyper-sexualized being whose love (including exclusive sexual
access) is sought obsessively and self-destructively by the Queen who would
sacrificeeverythingtoobtainit. Byportrayingasupposedlystrongwomanas
completely subject to her frenetic desire to possess her husband's sexuality--
presented in an histrionic display of paralyzing emotion—the implied male,
heterosexual viewing subject is assured of the value of the penis, which can be
equatedwiththephalhrsasPeterIehmanhasdemonstrated. lthasbeennotedthat,
”Castration anxiety, indeed the whole oedipal constellation, rests on a cultural

exaltation of masculinity and overvaluing of the penis" (Connell 15). In this way the

67

 

 

 

Cl."

 

woman serves to allay the castration anxiety of the male in a two-fold manner: first
by serving as a fetish object to be consumed visually, thus allowing the male to
deny her castration; and secondly by being represented as desirous of the phallus
thatthemanisseentopossessthroughaconnectionwiththepenisthatis
apparently the cause of the queen's madness.

Likewise in El ultimo cuplé, the strong female lead, a copla singer played
by Sara Montiel, is also led to self-destruction due to a passionate desire for a man,
in this case a young bullfighter who does not clearly return her affections. De
Ordufia produced this film with his own money, but sold it to CIFESA shortly after
its completion and it bears the marks of the visual spectacle of its predecessor-
beautiful female lead, melodramatic situations and acting, dramatic music, etc. It
seems remarkable for its representation of a strong and unconventional female
protagonist in her rise to fame, but Maria Lujan's power is contained in a variety of
ways within the film and ultimately through her transformation into a fetish object
that serves to allay masculine fear and disavow castration anxiety. Like Locura de
amor, El ultimo cuplé employs a male interlocutor through whom the life story of
the protagonist is told. Also, this male point of view on Maria is one of many
represented through the film. The protagonist is fiequently the object of
spectatorial consumption within the text as in her many performances, but also in
moments when she does not offer herself for this purpose. For example, early in the
film as Maria dances with her boyfiiend she is judged in a beauty contest that she
has not entered. As they smoke dispassionately, the male judges watch and '

comment on the women assembled, critically assessing the oblivious ”contestants."

68

And, as in Locura de amor, this cool, observing male spectator is contrasted with
the passionate object of his gaze. Like Queen Juana, Maria is shown to be subject
above all to her passion for a man who does not return her feelings. She falls in
love with a young bullfighter who reminds her of her first love whom she
renounced in order to establish her career as a singer. Though she dominates the
national and international music scene, she is seen as utterly guided by her desire
for this young man who continues to maintain a long-time girlfiiend and whose

feelings for Maria are never clearly revealed. Again the implication of sexual

 

infidelity and the desire for exclusive access to the bullfighter's body convey the
female desire for what the man has—his sexuality. This provides assurance to the
implied male viewer that the woman, however strong and independent she may
seem to be, is ultimately subject to her need for the penis/phallus. The death of
Maria Lujan, presumably of a broken heart, further assures that there will be no
actual role-reversal in which the female assumes a more powerful position than the
male. Her lifelong manager and friend, Juan, announces her death with great
emotion, butit is clearthat he will continue andprosper, as he has in the years since
their professional and sentimental parting, whereas she could never overcome her
grand passion for the bullfighter.

Finally, her positioning as the glamorous object of visual consumption
ensures that she herself becomes a fetish object through which castration anxiety is
avoided. The fetishimtion of the female image is clearly displayed in this film in
the many images of dancers dressing, cabaret singers revealing flashes of thighs

offset by dark garters, long lingering close-ups of its beautiful star in elaborate

69

costumes and now the super-saturated colors, usually red, that appear in costumes
anddrapery. Sheseemstopossessthepowertoentrance,topossessthemenwho
watch her and thus constitutes a threat. The star's glamorous presentation heightens
the sense of danger associated with her, but also offers a reprieve as Simpson
indicates: "Glamour, then is a woman's 'magical' power over man, her power to
enchant and allure; and as ever, woman's power is also a castrating threat to men:
glamour is both the fear of lack and the disavowal of it" (178). Thus through
transformation into fetish object, Montiel's body acts as both threat and reassurance.
While masculinity is liable to find the threat of castration in the image of a woman's
body, it resolves this threat in two ways according to Easthope: "one is the woman's
body itself, which can appear to have the firmness, solidity and unity of the phallus
for which it is a fetishistic substitute. The other is the pleasure of looking, which,
with all the techniques of modern color photography has come to seem ever more
vivid, substantial and complete" (141). So through her containment as visual object
of scopophilic consumption, and later through her passion and death, Maria Lujan is
contained and the threat ofcastration averted.

Another significant trend in dictatorship cinema is the popularity of the
numerous genre films starring children, such as Pablito Calvo (Marcelino, pan y
vino, 1954), Joselito (El pequeiio ruisei'ror, 1956, and El ruiseiior de las cumbres,
1958) and Marisol (Un rayo de luz, 1960, Ha llegado an angel 1961, and Marisol,
rumba a Rio, 1963), as well as the so-called "cine con cura" (Stone 39) which
portrayed male religious figures in starring roles and included such films as Misio'n

blanca (Juande 0rdufla, 1947), Lamies esnmcha(Luis Séenzde Heredia, 1949)

70

and Balarrasa. This second type can be at least partly attributed to the shift in
emphasis from the Falange and its attempt at self-justification through war films,
and a subsequent ban in 1943 on using the Civil War as subject matter, toward the
Catholic Church as an ideological support and justification for the regime, but a
study of these asexual male roles alongside those of the child star and the folclorica
reveals a common implied viewer subject position—that of the heterosexual male.
A film of enduring popularity during the years of the dictatorship, Marcelino, pan y
vino, exemplifies many of the characteristics of these genres: adult males in
'feminized' care-giving religious roles, a prodigious or precocious orphaned child in
a leading role, a process of redemption or salvation, and an engagement with the
search for one's essence or origins. The emphasis in these film on women, children
or asexual male figures takes as its point ofdeparture, or normalized viewing
position, that of the heterosexual male. Since real fathers are fiequently absent,
their male subject position is neither challenged nor interrogated through its
cinematic representation, and these films avoid any serious examination of social
reality including gender roles and economic conditions in Spain. The fiequent song
and dance numbers divert attention away from real problems and instead offer
magical or incredible solutions, such as Marcelino's direct communication with
Jesus or Marisol's bringing thieves to justice in Marisol, rumba 0 Rio.

However, despite the fact that cinema under the dictatorship may have been
designed to solidify a social order based on the supremacy and dominance of the
heterosexual male hierarchy, the regime could not control popular reception and

appropriation ofthese films. As Jo Labanyi has argued (1997), genres like the

71

missionary film and the folkloric film musical, while serving the interests of the
regime, also allowed space for subaltern groups to rework dominant discourses. By
allowing the viewer into an identification with the point of view of the feminine
omr—acted by male as well as female stars—they undermine the patriarchal
emphasis of Francoist discourse by revealing the performative nature of gender.
Therefore even CIFESA films, which were obviously favorable to the dictatorship,
need to be considered as vehicles for its subversion as well. Despite the fact that a
certain vision of the patriarchal male hierarchy was offered, there was no guarantee
that the male viewer would in fact fall into the position offered. Labanyi notes this
potential for ”ms-identification": "The audience is thus seduced by the female lead
not because it sees her through the desiring male's gaze, but because it identifies
with her position as seductress" ("Race, Gender and Disavowal" 225). She goes on
to indicate the continuing nature of these filrns' subversive potential: ”The early
Francoistfolldorica has in recent years enjoyed a revival with Spanish gay
audiences, because of its camp exposure of the constructedness of gender roles"
(230). While it is not my intention to conduct an investigation of the complex
relation between reception and consumption practices, it is important to indicate
this potential for subversion as well as the ways in which this type of repetitive
production related to these genres reiterate certain tensions and anxieties related to
the experience of identification with the hegemonic male model offered by the
dictatorship.

The very repetition of these "specular" or performance oriented genres may

be an indication ofthe necessity for the sort of "binding" that Silverman lms

 

equated with the protection of oneself from castration anxiety. The scopophilia
associated with the implied male gaze of the visual spectacle within the film reveals
the tenuous nature of identification with that implied subject position. Scopophilia
isrelatedtoawishtomasterandasEasthope describes it: ”Itisaneedtokeep
everything under surveillance, see perfectly, dominate through vision" (139). Just
as Freud's yormg nephew engaged in the "fort-da" game of throwing away and then
recovering a spool of yarn-representing his anxiety over his mother's absence-so
the Spanish male viewer witnesses a powerful and sexually threatening female who
inspires fear, but is then brought under control. In films like El ultimo cuplé and
Carmen, la de Ronda (1959) the camera repeatedly pans across uplifted faces of
almost exclusively male audiences of Sara Montiel's musical performances. These
crowds do not chat among themselves and rarely express any emotion other than
total absorption in the spectacle, appearing to be mesmerized by the wet-lipped and
sexually dangerous protagonist. It is a danger that is expressed repeatedly in
Carmen, la de Ronda, a film set in 1808 in the city of Ronda during the Napoleonic
war. First Carmen's Spanish boyfriend and later her French lover, both soldiers,
express their anguish and doubt over whether they possess her exclusively. These
sfiongwarfiormalesdonotfem'deaththroughbatflewothareseenrepeatedly and
fearlessly risking their lives in this way) but do express excessive anxiety over
losing control of Carmen. Thus, by repeating in formulaic narratives the castration
threat and its consequent resolution such as is seen in those films presenting strong
womencharacterswhoweremarried,killedofl‘and/ortextually "punished" atthe

endasawayofcontrollingthem,Spanishcinemaofthiseraservedtoreinforce

73

 

gender identifications that may have been threatened with destabilization due to
harsh economic and political realities of the time. The constant repetition of these
genre films belies the fundamentally unstable nature of gender and its need for
reinforcement.

Marsha Kinder has also speculated on the subversive potential of
melodrama, a traditionally "low" form of entertainment that, though it can be seen
as an escapist genre that naturalizes the dominant ideology by displacing political
issues onto the personal plane of the family, can also reveal contradictions and
excesses in that same system: "By pushing the conventional excessiveness to an
even greater extreme, these subversive filmmakers [ . . . ] foreground the
ideological contradictions that Hollywood melodrama normally glosses over,
demonstrating that family and gender are a legitimate site for serious political
struggle" (55). And as Paul Julian Smith observes: "The reader's desire fiansforms
the text in which it wishes to see itself" (18). Therefore, while the dictatorship
censors may have been able to control the ostensibly conservative representation of
gender, they could not predict how audience reception might undermine that
message.

1]]. Trauma and Psychic Castration during the Dictatorship

However glossy a surface was presented in epic and melodramatic films
fromthe l9403and19503,harsheconomicandsocialrealitybegantobreak
through and make its presence felt in films of the period. A growing sense of
discontent with contemporary filrnmaking conditions, techniques and styles became

evident after the Salamanca talks in 1955 in which the stultification of Spanish

74

cinema was harshly criticized. Following the lead of Italian neorealism, directors
such as Juan Antonio Bardem began to give form to strong rmdercrn'rents of
discontent. Postwar trauma and a sense of psychic and economic castration become
evident in several films fiom the 19503 and 19603 in which "ideological fatigue"
reveals an outright breakdown in the performance of the hegemonic masculine
model. In Silvernran's analysis, historical trainna can be any historical event which
brings a large group of male subjects into such an intimate relation with lack that
theyaremabletosustainanimaginarymlafionshipwiththephallusandso
withdraw their belief fiom the dominant fiction. There begin to surface filmic
representations of failing protagonists—those who are rmable to master their
surroundings, their women, themselves. While government censors tried to keep
subversive representations off Spanish screens, there was a strong push, especially
after the Salamanca talks and the influence of Italian neorealist films on Spanish
dheaommmakefilmsMEpresmwdthewnralwnflictsmdsuesseSMsociety
posed for individuals (Surcos, Nieves Conde 1951; Muerte de un ciclista, Bardem,
1955; E30 parejafeliz, Bardem/Berlanga, 1951; Calle mayor, Bardem, 1956; El
verdugo, Berlanga, 1963; El pisito, Ferreri, 195 8; El cochecito, F erreri, 1960; Los
golfos, Saura, 1962).

Surcos, the first film directed by Jose Antonio Nieves CoMe, illustrates the
pressures that a changing Spanish economy exercised on its citizens. Hoping to
discourage rampant emigration fiom the countryside to the city, the censors not
only approved this script but also awarded it with the coveted "interes nacional"

distinction, though its content can be considered to be highly critical of economic

75

conditions at the time and the moral degradation that was supposed to have
accompanied them. The film treats a rural family's journey to and travails in
Madrid as its members try to survive in a situation where the traditional values of
honestyandhardworkleadnottoprosperitybuttoruinas,onebyone,theysee
themselves duped, robbed and confused in an environment they fail to master. In
the end the patriarch declares that they must mm to the cormtryside: "Hay que
volver. Pues con vergilenza, hay que volver." The ever-looming threat of
emasculation by this environment is especially notable in the experience of the
father. Although he maintains enough authority at the end to declare their time in
Madrid finished, itisasifrecallingtherespcctand authorityheonce enjoyedrather
than any he has been afforded in the city. From the beginning ofhis time in the city
he is ordered about by his more savvy female relatives. He is given the subservient
taskofsellingsnacksintheparkandunlikethewarriorsofthecinedecruzada
whose father voice echoed in their heads, here the voice-over is that ofhis female
relative reciting the prices of the candy, gum, cigarettes, etc. that are found in his
basket. Andincontrasttothoseearlierfilms,hisdisregard formoney whichhe
demonstrates by handing out candy to the poor children in the park, leads not to
greaterrespectbuttoaseverereprimandwhenheretumshome,aswellasa
demotion to the feminized position of aproned potato peeler, an obvious reference
to his inability to earn moneyuthe prime indicator of masculine individual worth in
this new environment. And throughout the film Pili, the city girlfiiend of the
cormtryman,Pepe,urgeshimtomakemoremoneysothatshecancomider

marrying him saying: "Yo me caso con quienme saque de esto." She encourages

76

Pepe to participate in robbing supply trucks rather than continuing with less
profitable honest work. He complies only to be caught and finally killed by his
boss, Don Roque, for his failure. Here the father figures are either emasculated for
conforming to the old values—as is the case of the rural father, or promoted for
embodying the new values—greed, individualism and cruelty. The replacement of
the "oedipal father of prohibition" with the "anal father of enjoyment" has been
observed to mark the transition from a hierarchical, patriarchal society to a
consumer society in which honor and self-renunciation is replaced by self-interest
and the pursuit of enjoyment. A3 Jan Jagodinski describes this change: "the oedipal
father is in the midst of disappearing and with him are disappearing the prohibitions
against enjoyment [. . . ] rather than prohibiting enjoyment, this new father
commands it, thus unleashing aggressivity in heretofore unimaginable ways" (32).
Don Roque is the embodiment of this figure who lords his success over others,
takingthewomenthathewantsandkillinghisernployeesor"son3" asheseesfit,
all the while prospering in spite of the conditions that surround him.

In spite of its poor performance at the box office, another film worth
mentioning for its influence on Spanish cinema in the 19503 is Esa parejafeliz, the
first film written and directed by the long-standing and productive partnership
between Juan Antonio Bardem and Luis G. Berlanga; it marked the beginning of a
new comic style with a critical spirit and an obvious neorealist inspiration. Finally
released two years after completion due to its low classification fiom censors, it
represents a humble young couple, Juan (Fernando Feman G6mez) and Carmen, in

Madrid as they fall in love, marry and begin their lives in precarious financial

times—the husband seeking advancement through dubious schemes and
correspondence courses, and the wife through games of chance that ultimately lead
to their winning the distinction of "the happy couple" in a soap contest. Their prize,
which ironically comes during a big fight between them on the day the husband
loses his job, is a 24-hour shopping spree. The film closes with them giving away
theirpurchasesto themany vagrants sleeping onparkbenchesandrealizingthatit
is not in material goods that they will find happiness. As Rob Stone has noted, the
film self-consciously marks a shift fiom the epics of the 19403 toward a more
realistic representation of Spanishness: "It begins with a spoof of CIFESA and its
pompous epics: an uproariously stilted conversation between noblemen and the
suicide of their queen, who jumps from the ramparts and lands on Juan, whose
mission as production assistant is to catch her. The parody is an immediate affi'ont
to the so-called “national interest” cinema in Spain, in place of which Bardem and
Berlanga focus on Juan as a much more genuine example of Spanishness" (42).
Juan is presented as an idealistic young man full of modern ideas for
advancement beginning with his enthusiasm for a dubious correspondence course
fiom which he gains little more than hope and a slogan ("5a 1a felicidad por la
electrbnical"), through his collaboration with a fast-talking actor who promises to
cut him in on a photography scheme ("isentido commercial!") with equally little
result. His wife, though doubtful, supports him while continuing to play games of
chance in the hopes of improving their lot. The film contains a sharply critical
element in its representation oftheir overcrowded and shabby tenement as well as

an obvious reference to class inequality as they go fi'om pretentious upscale

78

restaurant to a park filled with vagrants sleeping on benches. After losing his job in
a theater, Juan finally breaks down when he realizes that no matter how hard he
tries, he cannot dominate the situation economically: " iEsto [his diplomas fiom the
electronics school] no sirve para nada! . . . iNi yol." He reacts to the realization of
his failure by violently lashing out at his wife, blaming her: "Me han despedido--
gnoesesoloquequerias?" His frustrationisnotdirectedatasystemthatmakes
him discontent with his lot as an underpaid employee in a film studio or on the
fiaudulent grasping of others who take advantage of him within this system, but
rather at the woman who witnesses his failure and thus calls his masculine mastery
into question.

El pisito (1958) and El cochecito (1960) both shot by Italian director Marco
Ferreri in the beginning of the era of the Spanish economic transformation of the
19603, repeat the theme of economic subjugation of the traditional male
breadwinner. In both films, explicit reference is made to America as a land of
(consumer) opportunity (in El pisito: "Pero no estamos an America" [we do not
have such opportrmities here], and in El cochecito: "la r’rltima palabra de la
tecnologia . . . ultramodemo . . . americano"), and in both, the male protagonist is
distinctly disadvantaged within the system in which he finds himself, to the point of
appearing in an infantilized state. In Elpisito a bespectacled and browbeaten Jose
Luis Lopez Vézquez as Don Rodolfo shops for comic books and throws temper
tantrums all the while deferring to his discontent and highly critical fiance, engaged
fortwelve yearsandunabletowedbecausetheycannotfindanafi'ordable

aparhnenLRodolfomttherngingofhis fiance',marriesanageingwomanhoping

79

she will die and leave him her apartment and a chance to live his own life.
Ironically he enjoys and embraces his new role, hovering between husband and son,
and clearly interacting more peacefully with the old woman than with his fiancé.
He is genuinely distraught upon her death and the emptiness of his new life with his
longtime girlfiiend offers little hope for the future. Driving off for the cemetery at
the end of the film, her strident voice echoes as she barks orders and spouts
platitudes about their new station in life.

Likewise, in El cochecito the ineffectual male protagonist, Don Anselmo,
played by Pepe Isbert, reverts to an infantilized state when he finds himself
inadequateandunabletomasterhissm‘rormdings. Thisfilmprovidesasocial satire
of the incipient postwar consumer society and the growing dependence on and
desire for foreign (American) goods. Due to the influx of consumer products from
the United States, represented by the "cochecito" or motorized wheelchair, Don
Anselmo suddenly discovers that he is at a disadvantage next to his physically
disabled fiiends. In a crucial moment he understands himself to be deficient
because he is lacking in the latest technology as his fiiend, indicating his new
machine, says: "mejor que las piemas de verdad." Instead of being esteemed for his
abilitytopushhisfiiend'swheelchairashewasinthepasgheisleftbehindby
those who now use the prosthetic support that this new consumer product affords.
Thedimespeahiswnsmnerdeshesearnhimathomewithhisfamilyamsfiikingly
contrasted with the good treatment he is afforded by the wheelchair salesman: "El
sefioresmicliente"-hisstatusasacustomerisenoughtoearnhimesteeminthis

newfiarneofreference.ltisasiftosaythatsimply "beingaman"inthesenseof

80

possessing physical strength and independence is not sufficient for winning the
esteem of one's peers. Quite to the contrary, he is congratulated for his new
purchase and Don Anselmo himself suffers no lack of self-respect for his grasping
and acquisitive behavior-the owning is what is important—so much so that he is
willing to poison his family and steal from his son rather than lose the "cochecito."
His only concern as he finally motors off to jail, policemen in tow, is whether or not
he will be allowed to keep his wheelchair with him. He has clearly sacrificed the
good of the old social order of fiiends and family, for his own private enjoyment.
Finally the "cochecito" affords him complete independence even fi'om his loved
onesandpeers,ashefocusesonthepersonalsafisfactionofownershipandon
keeping his new acquisition.

As long as women were thought to esteem and respect male superiority, the
fundamental sense of “lack of being” discussed earlier in access to the symbolic
order could be masked. However it becomes increasingly apparent in many of the
films fi'om the 19503 and 19603 that this was no longer the case. Don Rodolfo's
fiance, Pili’s girlfiiend in Surcos and Juan's wife, Carmen, in Esa parejafeliz pose a
serious threat to the successful frmctioning of masculinity of the films' protagonists.
As Silverman points out: "the 'ideal' female subject refuses to recognize male lack"
and "upholds the male subject in his phallic identity by seeing him with her
'imagination' rather than with her eyes" (Male Subjectivity 47). The danger in
seeing is, of course, that the functioning of the mechanisms of disavowal of
castration and fetishization will be jeopardized thus endangering the grand illusion

thathassustainedhegemonicrepresentationsofmasculinityinthepast.

81

Furthermore, while in the cases of Pili and Rodolfo's fiancé there is a genuine and
explicit threat of withholding approval—which leads to infantilization in one case
and death in the other-4n Esa parejafeliz it is sufficient only that the husband
perceives a possible withholding of approval as he shifts his own perspective of
himself to that of his wife. His imagined disapproval projected onto her causes him
to become emaged and he chases her around the apartment, hurling violent and
unfounded accusations about her lack of faith in him. For her part, though
consistently looking with benevolence and acceptance on his schemes, she has
never stopped playing games of chance—something that he perceives as a lack of
confidence in his abilities as the breadwinner ofthe family. For this reason the
"binding" of the foundational trauma into a coherent narrative in which the male,
with the help of the female, repeats the dominant fiction—"man as me breadwinner"
in this case-is threatened. A3 Silverman indicates: "Male mastery rests on an
abyss" (Male Subjectivity 7) and must be consolidated through constant repetition
of the equation of the penis with the phallus. Collective belief in this equation is
necessary to maintain the smooth functioning of traditional masculinity.
IV. Desperate Measures: Defense, Containment and Assimilation
Inthe19603,Spanishcinemagaverisetoanabundanceoffilmsthatseemed
designed to re-educate males in the practice of a consumerist form of masculinity,
while another cinematic current explored the anxieties that social and economic
changes produced. The rise of the individual consumer was, at least in part, the
result ofa conscious strategy conceived ofin the Francoist regime: "Indeed the

creation of a prosperous consumer society, as theorized and promoted by

archtechnocrat Gonzalo Fernandez de la Mora in his 1961 book, The Twilight of
Ideologies, was conceived as a strategy to guarantee political apathy among
Spaniards" (qtd. in Vernon and Morris 66). According to Triana-Toribio, the lack of
economic growth in the 19503 forced the regime to reassess its attitude toward
industrial development and foreign investment. It sought a way to make Spain
attractive abroad and the creation of the Nuevo Cine Espafiol was part of this
project. Due to the regime's interest in producing films with international appeal,
certain directors were granted a slightly greater degree of fieedom. Carlos Sama,
due to his success with Los golfos (1959) and La caza (1965) along with his alliance
withthe influentialproducerElias Querejeta, managedtocreatefilmswithadegree
of greater intellectual integrity and psychological honesty, though he still employed
a complex metaphorical style to disguise his criticism. However, the so-called
Viejo Cine Espaflol continued to serve an ideological function at home with the
majority of the population, introducing them to social changes and consumerist
ways of thinking without abandoning their small town, nationalistic worldview:
"Popular cinemas rely on recognition and identification with the circumstances of
the characters and this is aided through the representation of phenomena new to a
SpainwhichwasentefingflrepattemsofWestemconsumersocietythroughthe
desarollismo [sic] " (T riana-Toribio 75). However even more mainstream
productions such as No desearas al vecino del quinto (Ramon Feméndez, 1970),
many filrns with Manolo Escobar, and "paleto" or country bumpkin cinema in
general reveal emerging anxieties through their attempts at containment. Internal

contradictions of a society in the process of transformation and uneven development

83

give rise at the same time to a leftist, critical film current appealing to intellectuals
and the international art film audience. Peppermint Frappe by Carlos Satna won a
Silver Bear award in the film festival of Berlin in 1967, and for national audiences
of popular cinema the wildly successful first example of the "paleto" genre, La
ciudad no es para mi by Pedro Lazaga appeared just two years earlier in 1965.
Despite obvious differences, both films represent ways of being male in reaction to
consumerist pressures.

In Peppermint Frappe’ a repressed, 40-something doctor, Julian, played by
José Luis L6pez Vazquez, becomes obsessed with his friend's beautiful, young
foreign wife, Elena played by Geraldine Chaplin. After attempts to woo her fail, he
killsthembothandtakesupwithhistimidsecretarywhomhehasbeen
refashioning in Elena's image. Julian had been a solitary man, spending his time
alone carefully cutting out fetishistic images of women fiom fashion magazines and
hiding away ontheweekendatadecrepitcountry housethatcanbeseento
representthetraditional Spainofthepast. Whenhemeetsthebeautifuland
uninhibited Elena it is as if those magazine women have materialized before his
eyes. He tries to engage her, urging her to remember a previous meeting at the
primitive, drurnbeating festival at Calanda and thus to incorporate her into his
imaginary. She denies it, laughingly telling her husband about Julian's imaginings.
His persistence is met with playful resistance, his earnestness with laughter. He
becomes increasingly unable to tolerate their jibes and finally poisons them both
pushing their red sports car, bodies inside, over a cliff. Julian is the embodiment of

therepressedandreservedSpanishmanoftheereandexposmetothemodern

images of smiling and sexualized women in magazines seems to threaten him. He
manages this threat through scopophillic fetishization—using ruler, pen and knife to
refiame and slice up the images before him which he then arranges in a scrapbook.
When he meets Elena he is initially euphoric, thinking he has found the woman of
his dreams fi'om Calanda. However she playfully resists all attempts to confine her,
dancing, laughing and running about freely so that, in his frustration, he rmleashes
his controlling impulses on his secretary Ana (also played by Geraldine Chaplin)
who docilely follows his every instruction and willingly inhabits the fantasy Julian
has created. This film reveals the tension created in the individual by the rapid
influx ofconsumerimagesandproductsintoSpain. Julian'sattemptsatcontrolare
inadequate to the task and self-preservation finally demands that he eliminate the
threat-sending both the flashy sports car and blond embodiment ofthe "sueca" or
modern foreign woman, into oblivion. This breaking point reveals the incapability
of the Spanish male to psychologically assimilate the rapid changes being imposed
uponhiminthesixties. InaSpainwhereallbuttheveryrichhaduntil recently
shared a common culture of self-denial based on lack, the Catholic exaltation of
poverty, and past ideals of masculinity, the sudden exposure to visual, if not actual,
consumption throws the protagonist into a state of confusion. Whereas the Spanish
male used to be able to take consolation and even pleasure in the fact that by
sacrificing his own enjoyment he was secruely inserted into the symbolic order,
here the pleasure of others is oppressively' near as he watches the couple kissing and
dancing,andhearsthemhavingsexintheroomabove. Hehideshisheadunderthe

blanket, brrt to no avail—he cannot avoid their suffocating pleasure that reminds him

85

 

of his own lack, his own inability to enjoy as firlly as they apparently are. In order
to control his anxiety and contain the threat he simply eliminates it and returns to
that which he can controluthe secretary Ana who agrees to participate in his dream
rather than demanding her own.

Saura's presentation of consumerist anxiety was juxtaposed against a
backdrop of popular cinema that seemed to try to facilitate interpellation of the
viewer into consumer culture. Among these, the extremely successful La ciudad no
es para mi stands out both for its wide appeal and its adaptation to consumer values.
Fromthevery firstscenethe viewerisplaccdbehindthe wheel ofacarasthe
camera uses this vantage point to provide a vision of Madrid while the voice-over
describes the city in detail. Though the fast-paced city life is apparently
rmfavorably compared with that of the small town, a powerful subtext urges the
viewer to see the "pueblo" though the eyes of commodity culture as a nostalgic
object of consumpfion, and to enjoy what the city has to offer. The "paleto"
protagonist played by Paco Martinez Soria employs his commoner’s wisdom to
manage life in the big city. Interestingly, Nathan Richardson points to the "paleto's"
ability to disrespect the patriarchal authority figure's power and thus open the way
to direct satisfaction of one's desires without the unwanted symbolic father's
imposition of prohibition. The "paleto" denies his own castration by mocking the
authority figures and thus positions the spectator through identification as open to
satisfaction of desires and participation in the consumer lifestyle. Richardson
states, "patriarchal authority is just another victim of the radical changes brought

about by the all absorbing triumph of consumer capitalism" (69). This

86

 

 

 

transformation is exactly the step that Todd McGowan describes as a shift in power
fiom the "oedipal father of prohibition" to the "anal father of enjoyment." Like
Julian in Peppermint Frappe, here the viewer is exposed to the expensive goods and
perfectly coiffed women that consumer culture holds up for sale and, despite the
fact that the protagonist retrn'ns to the pueblo, the viewer has learned to see this
quaint old character and his small town surroundings as a valuable memory to be
stored away. As Richardson has it, "the paleto and his rural idyll became the most
coveted and crucial of Spanish commodities" (73).

Despite attempts to package change in a digestible fashion, such a radical
about-face as occurred in the representation of the desirable male model brought
with it confusion and a renegotiation of male sexuality. By moving toward an ideal
of self-indulgence and consumption, the male moved dangerously close to what had
been considered to be the realm of women. The problem became how to justify
adherence to the new consumer dictate without compromising one's masculinity
under the previous system of prohibition as depicted most vividly in those films
pertainingtocrusadecinema. Encouragingmentoconsumeaspromotedinthe
explosion of television advertising and other mediums in the 19603 implied a rapid
reversal of an age-old'prohibition against male self-indulgence and consumption—as
represented in earlier films of the dictatorship. No desearas al vecino del quinto
(1970), an extremely popular film by director Ramon Fernandez, exemplifies the
renegotiation process. This film reveals a growing rmease about the masculine role
through a (hysterical) ridiculization of the homosexual and, finally, the

reestablishment of a completely heterosexual male model. Pedro, a young

gynecologist interested in promoting his new theoretical technique of painless
childbirth, is identified as a modern man through his longish hair, slightly feminine
good looks, and tolerant attitudes. He finds himself unable to build a practice in his
small city due to provincial male attitudes forbidding female nudity fi'om being seen
by the virile young doctor. While at a conference in Madrid, Pedro discovers Anton,
a supposedly gay fashion designer from his home town (played by Alfiedo Landa)
at a Madrid nightclub in the company of two beautifirl women. Antén reveals that
he maintains the homosexual masquerade in the pueblo for the sake of his business
but comes to the city to carouse and pick up women. He rather easily convinces
Pedro to forget his fiance and join him in his self-indulgent exploits. In the
meantime suspicion in the town grows over the nature of Pedro's relationship with
Anton causing Pedro's fiancé to come to Madrid where she eventually discovers the
truth. Nevertheless they marry and she helps him maintain his own homosexual
masquerade as their business thrives in the town. One day an excessively macho
Italian named Corleone, husband and father of some of Pedro's patients, also
diseoversthetruthandbeatsPedro severely,sendinghimtothehospita1wherehe is
diagnosed as having had a "trauma psiquico" and nearly having to have a transplant
of some urmamed organ indicative of his dangeous brush with homosexuality.

This film seems to be a reaction to changing attitudes about male roles
which lead to hysteria and the forced containment of homosexuality. It presents the
gamut of homosexual stereotypes—fiom flamboyant, lisping fashion designer

complete with poodle, to a mother's fear that her son can "catch" homosexuality

fiom his fifth floor neighbor. It goes to great lengths to prove that, despite

appearances, the two protagonists are most definitely not gay-revealing them to be
in fact hyper-sexed, scopophillic heterosexual males who simply put on the guise of
homosexuality for professional reasons. In fact, despite its treatment of the theme,
thefilmdoesnotactuallycontainany gaycharacters. Itisasifto implythat,
though the viewer may have heard about homosexuality out there, it does not really
exist here in Spain-and ifone thinks it is there, there is probably a perfectly good
heterosexual explanation for it. The film's title itself seems like an injunction, Ten
Commandments-style, against engaging in such completely umcceptable (though
by implication tempting) behavior. The final scene expresses the kind of "near
miss" danger that the protagonist has faced as his (now) wife anxiously asks the
doctor if her husband has "lost" anything in the attack. The doctor quickly
reasmnesherthahdespitethepsychicuaumehehasavoidedthenecessity ofa
"transplant." The film, like the doctor, has arrived just in time to save its
protagonist's manhood and ensure that he will continue to have a "normal"
(heterosexual) relationship with his wife. However, by highlighting the
performative nature of masculinity—hetero- as well as homosexuality, the film
allows a queer reading that calls to mind Freud's insistence on the bisexual natm'e of
each individual and the instability of gender whose complete and permanent
resolution is never obtained.

Following Chris Perriam's lead in Stars and Masculinities in Spanish
Cinema in which he considered the cumulative cultmal weight behind individual
malestmsofSpanishcinernmlexamineherethemeaningoftheiconic

embodimentofonestarinparticular: Manolo Escobarwhosegreatsuccessinthe

89

19603 and 19703 Spanish music and film—along with his off-camera persona-is
uniquely situated as a figme of transitional masculinity. Perriam described the way
in which the "circulation, reception and cultural currency" of stars can be seen as
representational of ideological themes, and that a star might be read as "embodying
the nation" (6). Manolo Escobar was consistently represented as the Spanish rags-
to-riches success story both on screen and off—mirroring the country's own
economic takeoff in the 19603. His real life marriage to a blond German tourist
seemed an extension of films such as Un beso en el puerto (1965) where he
manages to bridge the gap between traditional Spanish values and the modern world
representedbyflreforeigntomistwhomhewoosandwinsdespitecultmaland
economic differences. Born in Andalusia into a family of humble means, in his
youth he traveled with two of his nine siblings to Barcelona where he worked in a
metalworking factory among other odd jobs before being "discovered" in a contest
on Radio Barcelona in 1957. He recorded seventy records over halfof which went
gold, and appeared in over twenty films in the 19603 and 19703. He was
consistently represented in the press as the epitome of traditional Spanish manliness
and his Andalusian origins dovetailed nicely with traditional tastes for the folkloric
figure and "authentic" Spain. By popular vote, Radio Espaiia named him "el artista
més representativo de Espafia" awarding him a plaque that read "Esto es Espafia,
Seiiores," and in December 2001 he was voted favorite leading man ofall time by
spectators of "Cine de Barrio," a nostalgic Spanish television show of folkloric
"espoitolada" cinema presented by Carmen Sevilla, which suggest its enduring

appeal at least among a segment of the audience (Crumbaugh 265).

A closer look at the characters he plays reveals a process of adapting a
traditional Spanish masculine model (also embodied in the star Manolo Escobar) to
the reality of a modern consumer society. They possess many of the virtues exalted
by the dictatorship regime and embodied in the crusade cinema—stoicism, self-
renunciation (usually his characters neither smoke nor drink), a formal and reserved
character, and most importantly, a distinct lack of interest in money. Some change
in his life generally pushes him into contact with the outside world where he
maintains his old-world values while often (reluctantly) adapting to the new-
pursuing money and fame for instance only to win his simple hometown sweetheart
away from a richer rival as in Mi cancién es para ti (1965). The character of
Manolo at the end of the film is supposed to remain relatively unchanged though
clmnce has incorporated him into modern consumer culture, albeit only to "get the
girl." However, traditional hegemonic masculinity is also undone in a variety of
ways in these films, most obviously in the specularity of the handsome male
performer who, like the "paleto" in La ciudad no es para mi, becomes the typical
Spanish "product" himself.

José Luis Séenz de Heredia's film Pero... gen que pais vivimos? (1967)
shows Escobar as the living embodiment of traditional masculinity—in a marked
contrast to the clearly modern "Ye-ye" girl, Conchita Velasco, against whom he is
finally induced to compete in a musical contest. An advertising agency mounts a
campaign to induce Spaniards to choose between two drinks—the "authentic"
Spanish product, manzanilla, represented by the "cancién espafiola"; and the more

modern whiskey, represented by the "cancion moderna." In this film the modem is

91

clearly associated with the feminine in a variety of ways. The modern (and
apparently materialistic) singer "Barbara" (played by Velasco) is easily hired on-
she literally jumps at the chance to earn a million pesetasuwhile Antonio Torres
(Escobar) initially refuses, unwilling to compete with anyone ("y metros con una
mujer") despite the large sum of money offered to him. His adherence to
traditional, non-materialistic masculinity is underscored by his song at this point in
the film, "Besos y Flores" ( . . . yo vivo 5610 por eso . . . ). By singing in the
traditional style in marked contrast to Barbara, he represents the old-style Spanish
genfleman--courtly, restrained, proud but not given to shows of ostentation. In a
rather odd exchange between two men in a bar, one older and more formally
dressed and the other young with longish hair and modern attire, an argument
breaks out over musical preferences. The older men are unwilling to listen to the
modern music played on the jukebox by the younger. The younger man defends his
choice saying, "Mi duro es tan duro como el tuyo" and the older one shoots back
"algo mas blando no?"--in what could be interpreted as a veiled reference to the
masculinity of the other-hardness being a traditionally desirable male
characteristic.
Sofinessdoesnotseemtobeachmacterisficthatcouldbeassociatedwith
Manolo Escobar in the following scene. His hair slicked down over angular facial
feahnegpantscarefirllycreased,heisesconcedinhismanlylair,caringforhispet
wolves and surrounded by guns and stuffed birds (recalling F ranco's hobby of
hunting). He is visited by Barbara, whose beauty not only causes this non-drinker

to pour himself a whiskey, but also to agree to sign onto the project—which instead

of a compromise of his traditional manliness can actually be seen as its opposite--a
man so virile that only his appreciation of a beautiful woman could sway him fiom
his initial position. In another move that further refiames his compromise with
consumefismherenouncesthemoneymskinginsteadthatshouldhewimhebe
allowed to cut Barbara's hair according to his taste. It is an interesting request
especially considering that female hair cutting has been seen as the equivalent of
female castration (Kinder, Blood Cinema 22)-a generalization that seems to hold
up as later shots reveal women at the competitions holding signs that say "No nos
cortais la melena." / "Don't cut our hair." (No men hold such signs). An angry
Barbara responds by saying: "Si pierdes tr'r (,qué corto?" ("If you lose, what do I
cut?"), and Antonio’s instant reply shoots back: "Yo no tengo nada cortable" ("I
don't have anything cutable") as if to deny even the possibility of male castration.
So the contest rages between the cancion "espafiola" versus the "modema"--as if to
overlookthefactthatitisnowall "moderno" inthesensethatitispartofahuge,
modern advertising campaign. Predictably, the two fall in love before the contest is
ever decided and resolution is achieved when Barbara voltmtarily cuts her own hair-
-providing the comforting illusion of voluntary submission. The film ends with an
apparently sexually satisfied Barbara (seen wearing a robe with cigarette burning in
ashtray) calling in "sick" to her secretary thus continuing the entrance of modern
values (sexual permissiveness) while at the same time reaffirming the virility of he

who has nothing "cortable."

93

V. Conclusion

By the final years of the dictatorship it became obvious that the self-
abnegating and restrained masculine model illustrated most clearly in crusade
cinema was inconsistent with a rapidly changing consumerist economy in Spain.
The early dictatorship's need for justification and approval of the masses required
that it convince people that virtue and esteem resided in giving and going without.
Hegemonic masculinity was seen as that which based itself in a hierarchical notion
of social organization centered on what the individual could offer, not what he
could claim for himself. The hierarchy demanded conformity and could not tolerate
dissent of any kind. Self—centered or self-indulgent behavior was considered the
domain of women and the good male was seen to resist any temptation to gratify
himself. However, when public policy demanded that Spain open itself to
consumerist values in an attempt to jump start the economy, Spanish films both
reflected and promoted changes in the desired male models as a result. As women
were also interpellated as individual consumers, they began to question the
superiority of those men who did not succeed within this new paradigm. The
withdrawal of their adoring gaze, as seen in Surcos, El pisito, Esa parejafeliz and
many other films of the era, reflects the beginnings of a collective loss of belief in
the traditional hierarchy with its focus on the self-sacrificing model of masculinity.
Following the requirements of a consumer society, individuals—men and women
alike-were encouraged to see themselves as firndamentally lacking and that, unlike
inthepasLthis lackwasnotavirtue,butafault. Thus,inavery shorttime,and

possiblyforthefirstfimeinthehistoryofSpaimmanappearedtobeesteemednot

for his ability to renounce his own needs and desires, but for his ability to take
advantage of consumer opportrmities that were suddenly available. This change
marked a dramatic shift in the way masculinity had been lived in Spain up to this
point and effected a breakdown or crisis in the representation of masculinity in the
19703 that will be evidenced by an abundance of "perverse" or non—traditional

masculine figures in cinema.

95

Chapter 3: Breakdown of the Hegemonic Male Model
By the final years of the dictatorship, ideological inconsistencies produced
by rapid economic development and the subsequent changes in social roles
created a tremendous amount of stress on the process of masculine subject
formation. Cinematic representations of desirable masculinity became
increasingly ambiguous as representations of men continued to maintain elements
of the stoical self-renouncing macho of the past while also incorporating the
fimdamentally incongruent consumerist values of the 19603 and 19703 which
encouraged the male subject to see himself as desirous and acquisitive—and thus
fundamentally lacking. So while hegemonic masculinity had been based on an
ideal of self-sufficiency, renunciation and the patriarchal hierarchy, it now needed
to reorient itself around self-indulgence and a status system based on buying-
power rather than self-sacrifice. The tenuous maintenance of the hierarchical
model was further eroded by the death of the patriarclml father figrn'e, Francisco
Franco, in 1975, as well as rapid social changes in the 19703 and early 19803 that
affected traditional roles. Cristina Moreiras Menor describes this shifl in the
following way:
Si el final del periodo dictatorial dio entrada en la arena politica, a
la transieién a una democracia representativa, en la arena social y
cultural da entrada a la instalacién abrupta, apenas sin transicion, a
una modemidad tecnolégica, informacional y econémica. La
transformaciénseproducedeunasociedadquecaminababajola

hegemoniadeunpoderestataltotalitario[. . .]enotracuyocentro

de control va diseminandose apenas imperceptiblemente. La

hegemonia estatal 3e transforma en la hegemonia del mercado. (67)
A3 a result, traditional or hegemonic masculinity of the dictatorship as illustrated
most clearly in relation to cine de cruzada, experienced a crisis, leading to its
breakdown in the 19703 and producing a profusion of new male models marked
by failure, deviance and "perversion." A sort of masculine hysteria surfaced at
this time as political, economic and social change disturbed the hegemonic model
and caused a reworking of it. This hysteria, described by Sigmund Freud as a
psychological reaction in men who failed to take up what he thought of as the
proper dominant patriarchal masculine role, can be observed in the many
dysfimctional and problematized male figures presented in film that markedly
shay from the powerful, hegemonic, heterosexual norm of the majority of
dictatorship films. Male characters seem to suffer at the hands of their mothers
and other women, their fathers, the authorities, their own memories, the mass ‘
media, their work, etc., and often ultimately fail at or reject traditionally accepted,
normative heterosexual relationships, living in isolation or "perversion."

The destabilization of the patriarchal hierarchy in 19703 Spain was
accompanied by a reaction of deep ambivalence which is represented in film
through the many alienated male figures that appear profoundly displaced with
neither a clear enemy against which to fight nor a hierarchy within which to
conform. Frmdamental changes in the social paradigm de-valued traditional
masculinity's hierarchical structure while simultaneously altering almost beyond

recognition the nature of the essentially binary opposition that was either opposed

to or in favor of the dictatorship: "'Cuando Franco muere,.1a sociedad espafiola
abandona de forma sr'rbita ese discurso politico estructurado hasta entonces en
modelos de izquierda y derecha y polarizado en tomo a la figura de Francisco
Franco'" (J .C. Mainer qtd. in Esquirel, Fecé 168). Following the suggestion of
Teresa Vilaros, I contend that the loss of the forbidden utopia that existed as a
kind of prohibited transcendence left a painful absence in the lives of the newly
"fiee" Spaniards—a trend that would later culminate in the 19803 with "pasotismo"
or lack of political involvement among the youth. As Vilaros describes: "La
utopia fue la droga de adiccion de las generaciones que vivieron el franquismo.
La muerte de Franco seflala 1a retirada de la utOpia y la eclosion de un sindrome
de abstinencia, un mono que obedece a un 'requerimiento inconsciente' y a una
'necesidad visceral' segr'm las palabras de Berlanga" (qtd. in Vilaros 27). Male
figures begin to turn inward at this time attacking the internalized father figure in
a masochistic disavowal ofa bankrupt masculine model that cannot come to
fruition given the loss of the grand patriarch and threats to the stability of the
hierarchy. Lacanian theorist Todd McGowan reiterates Foucault's proposal that:
"introduction of the Law is an obscene act, an act of producing the possibility of
the enjoyment it prohibits" (16), thus prohibition had provided the assurance that,
even though they may not experience it directly, there was something beyond, or
ratheraplace whereenjoymentwaspossible. Thiscanbe seeninawidely held
misconception about the movie Gilda. The general public in Spain believed that
“Rita Hayworth did not just peel off her long glove to the tune of ‘Put die Blame

onMame’,btn3uippedforthecamemscompletely—anddratthissighthadbeen

.98

denied them by the censor’s scissors” (T remlett 195). The sense of an enjoyment
that was possible beyond the prohibition was a staple in the lives of Spaniards
who lived under a repressive government who closely monitored behavior as well
as the media. Though, as stated earlier, the dictatorship never had a coherent
policy on censorship, its long alliance with the Catholic Church and concern for
self-justification and social order, had ensured tlmt films that challenged Christian
morality and dictatorship values were suppressed. As Jose Augustin Mahieu
states: "No hubo entonces un cine fi'anquista caracteristico salvo por omision. La
censma 3e encargaba de eliminar criticas o riesgos morales, entusiastamente
secundada por otro de los pilares del regimen, la Iglesia" (103). Thus, lacking a
proactive program of film production, the dictatorship was primarily concerned
with prohibition. It was not until 1963 that the first censorship code was
articulated and rmtil 1976 that censorship of scripts was abolished completely.

The reversal of this long-standing practice led to an outporning of creative
as well as libidinous expression in the mid-19703, but also gave way to a sense of
disenchantment as the utopian "beyond” slipped away along with the prohibition
that had sustained it. And as McGowan expresses it in relation to the murder of
theprimal father: "themurderoftheprimal fatherhastheefl'ectoftriggering
fantasies about the enjoyment that he experienced prior to his death. These
fantasies sustain those who have sacrificed their own enjoyment in the collective
renunciation that made the murder possible, and they provide the reassurance that,
if enjoyment is inaccessible now, at least it once was accessible for someone"

(15). Vazquez Montalban's statement that: "con(tra) Franco vivimos mejor" (qtd.

in Vilaros 66) expresses an idea that Carlos Saura reiterates in his struggle for
expression in 1976: "The things that bother me in Spain are less clear than under
Franco" (qtd. in Hopewell 141). As the "Law" began to wane during the last
yearsofthedictablandaduetotheill healthofFranco,thedeathofCarrero
Blanco and the softening of legal restraints, Spanish masculinity lost its moorings
ofthepastaseitherobedienttoorreactingagainstapatriarchal fatherfigtue or
the "father of prohibition" and sought to reorient itself in a variety of ways. This
phenomenon was particularly important for masculine identity formation given
the clearly patriarchal power structure in place in dictatorship Spain. As Vilaros
points out: "Estamos ante una herencia y por tanto situados claramente ante una
economia patriarcal, ante un estado de cosas que se dirime sobre todo entre padres
ehijosyno,almenosdemomento,entrepadresehijas,oentremadresehijas
aunque ellas también este'n implicadas y resultan afectadas" (44). Martin Moran
and Marina Diaz Lopez observe that "la transicion era por excelencia un espmio
politico androcéntrico" (181) and point out that while a dominant theme of films
of this period was the construction of identity, it was the masculine identity:
"Entre las muchas peliculas que giran en torno a esta tematica son practicamente
nulas las protagonizadas por mujeres" (182). Because of the importance of the
patriarchal hierarchy and the role men played in it, masculine models appear to
havebeenmoredirectlydisruptedthanfeminineonesdmingthisperiod. Thisis
reflected in a shift in focus fiom dictatorship films (post Crusade cinema) with
female leads—like many CIFESA epics, melodramas and e ladasnto a

preponderance of male-protagonized films in the 19703.

100

This chapter will examine films of the political transition from the early
19703 until 1982, the year in which the Socialist party was voted into power in
Spain. As previously mentioned, the years leading up to this period were
characterized by important social and economic changes that clearly effected a
change in the process of masculine identity formation. A3 Peter Evans describes
it, "The years between 1960 and 1975 were riddled with contradictions and
contrasts. This period saw the most accelerated, deep seated social, economic,
and cultural transformation in Spanish history" (Graham and Labanyi 259). From
1961 to 1973 Spain’s economy grew by 7 percent a year, outpaced in the
developed world only by Japan (T remlett 53). Hopewell has observed that Spain
by the 19703 "was a curious mix of Catholicism and consumerism" (47) reflecting
on one hand a traditional, hierarchical social arrangement and on the other, a new
equalizing force that sought to make all into consumers. Men were caught at a
crossroads in which the process of the positive oedipal identification, or rather
identification with the father and the hierarchy as a means of social insertion, was
threatenedbyachanging social arrangementandbythedisappearanceofthe
strong patriarch. The resolution of the Oedipus complex should lead to a phallic,
heterosexual male identity as Peter Hartocollis describes:
the little boy's realization of his father's opposition to his oedipal wishes prompts
his infantile ego to identify with Father and, 'borrowing strength from the father',
to repress the Oedipus complex [ . . . ] From a sexual (and aggressive) desire,

repressed by the fear ofcastration, the Oedipus complex becomes now the

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organizing principle that propels the boy's psychosexual development fiom its
phallic phase to the latency period and the consolidation of the superego" (325).
Lacan elaborated on Freud’s theory, maintaining the importance of the oedipal
complex, but affirming that the process was not biological or developmental, but
rather social. Elizabeth Grosz summarizes Lacan’s theory in the following way:
This process of social construction is predicated on the necessary
renunciation and sacrifice of the child’s access to the maternal
body and to the child’s submission to the Law of the Father. The
paternal figure serves to separate the child from an all-
encompassing engulfing, and potentially lethal relation with the
mother. The father intervenes into this imaginary dyad and
represents the Law. The Father embodies the power of the phallus
and the threat of castration. Accepting this authority and phallic
status is the precondition of the child’s having a place within the
socio-symbolic order, a name, and a speaking position. (142—3)
Many films from the 19703 represent the pitfalls of this process: sons become
“engulfed” by the castrating mother, some are extremely violent and anti-social,
many are unable to identify with an absent father, etc. The resolution of this
process rarely seems to reach completion, or rather, many male figures do not
identifywiflrtheirfathersandtheydonotarhptnormativeheterosexual
patriarchal roles.
Thefirstsectionofthischapterwill describethebreakdownofthe

hierarchy and the prohibitions it enforced focusing on how male figures attempt to

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master the rapid influx of consumer goods and influences into Spain, an attempt at
control that is often transferred onto the man's relationship with women. It is
exemplified perhaps most vividly in the popular “third way” film La Vida
conyugal sana (Roberto Bodegas 1974) in which the middle-class male
protagonist finds himselftom between strict adherence on one hand to the
morality and prohibitions of the past, and on the other a complete liccntiousness
represented by his obsession with female models and his uncontrollable desire to
buy. Other films like Ana y las lobos (Carlos Saura 1972) and Bilbao (Bigas
Luna 1978) focus on male protagonists who attempt to dominate and control
womenasameansofgainingmasteryintheone sphere ofpowerthathad
traditionally been granted them under the dictatorship. These attempts to control
their surrormdings are generally conservative in nature, demonstrating a desire to
return masculinity to a position of dominance and supremacy in the face of the
burgeoning power of women and the omnipresence of consumer goods. In the
second section I will expand on Marsha Kinder's excellent study of the oedipal
family in Blood Cinema as a fiamework for analyzing the effect of changing
social and economic conditions on the identity formation of the individual male.
Handicapped or absent fathers, castrating, over-dominant mothers and stunted,
often self-destructive children abound in Spanish cinema of the 19703 and
representthedisnrptionbroughtaboutbytheweakeningofdictatorial powerasan
organizing principle. A number of films from this period exhibit a breakdown in
theresolutionoftheOedipus complexandtheprocessofmatmationofthe

individual male character. This lack ofoedipal resolution leads to an abundance

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of infantilized or alienated male characters who are unable to assume a
functioning, normative, heterosexual adult male role in the patriarchal society, as
represented for example in F urtivos (Borau 1975), in which a domineering,
incestuous mother thwarts her adult son's attempt to become independent from her
through marriage. The third section analyzes the manifestations and implications
of subversive or "perverse" representations of masculinity, especially those
masochistic or homosexual male figures that can be seen as a collective attempt to
exorcise the presence ofthe father and to erase one's resemblance to him, but
which can also be considered along Slavoj Zizek’s theories, as: "the perverse by-
products [which] far from effectively threatening the system of symbolic
domination, are its inherent transgressions, i.e., its unacknowledged, obscene
support" (7). Among these, films by Eloy de la Iglesia such as Los placeres
ocultos (1977) and El diputado (1978) figure prominently as family structures are
reexamined and reconfigrnations considered. 1 will treat here early appearances
of homosexuality in Spanish film that are often markedly political and
realistically portrayed. Further discussion of the topic, including treatment of the
work of Pedro Almodovar, will appear in chapter four. Finally, I will consider the
19703 "sexy comedies" as a representation of conservative cinema's attempt to
reconcile heterosexual male power which was traditionally based on an image of
wholeness, with consumerism's model of the male as lacking-as the male figure
is seen to avidly consume female bodies, thus apparently affirming his
heterosexualitywhileerrteringfirmlyintotherealmoftheconsmning subject.

EspeciallypmminentwithmmisuendaremanyfilmsbyAlfiedoLanda(ofiginof

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the so-called "Landismo") and those including comedic actors Andres Pajares and
Fernando Esteso.
1. Consumer Pressure and the Struggle for Mastery

Man's relationship to women constitutes a privileged site for observing the
processes of and strains on identity formation. As the traditional mirror, or bearer
of the reflected male identity, she is burdened with the responsibility for
difficulties he encounters in the process of subject formation. While mutually
supportive, loving relationships between men and women have never been a
mainstay of Spanish cinema, the level of dysfimction reaches a new extreme
during the 19703, reflecting both the intense ambivalence that men felt about their
own subjectivity as well as a sense of confusion about changing gender roles in a
consumer society. As Hopewell points out regarding cinematic relationships in
the Transition, "Love for women is replaced in men by fear and resentment. Men
fear for their sexual performance; woman is seen as sexually voracious [ . . . ]
relationships become battles of the sexes" (183 ). Lydia Falcon, founder of the
Feminist Party in Spain, makes a similar obwvation about men in Spanish
society at the time: "En lo que estén de acuerdo los expertos es en que, debajo de
su mascara, el macho hispano suele esconder un miedo atroz por la mujer, una
gran desconfianza producida en buena parte por su ignorancia" (110). Though it
isoutsidethe scopeofthisworkto investigatethe reasons forthisalleged
animosity and mistrust, two of the institutions supportive of Franco’s regime and
mentioned in the previous chapter are tmdoubtedly at least partly to blame: the

Catholic Church which cast sexual relations in a consistently negative light, and

105

the Seccion Femenina which discouraged friendship between men and women.
Added to these was the pmarchal ideology of the dictatorship that encouraged
gender divisions based on a male/dominant-female/subordinate dichotomy.

While gender relations in the dictatorship were surely fraught with many of the
same problems—mistust, violence, competitiveness, etc.-these were incorporated
into a general social structure based on hierarchical differences that were widely
accepted, with the male being generally acknowledged as superior. This
hierarchical model provided a degree of power and security to the male no matter
how low his overall social standing. As the patriarchy weakened and
consumerism leveled the social differences between men and women, an intense
reaction was played out in Spanish films of the era. As women withdrew their
approving gaze, men were forced to see their own weakness and vulnerability and
often reacted violently to the change.

Several so-called auteur films from the early 19703 exemplify the sense of
powerlessness, confusion and resistance produced in male characters in the face
of change. In these films the male protagonists try to navigate social change,
bringing into relief their inability to use tools of the past to cope with the
challenges they currently face. Woman is oflen seen here to embody change and
as such, is the object of male confusion. Male characters reveal their fear and
ambivalence about their own identities by displacing them onto the woman and,
like Julian in Peppermint Frappe, they try to manage change by controlling
femalecharacterswhoare seentoembodythatthreatastheyreflectpotential

castrating forces. In Ana y los lobos, Habla, Mudita (Gutierrez Aragén 1973),

106

Tamaito natural (Berlanga 1973) and Bilbao, male characters try to manipulate
female ones, becoming fi'ustrated when these women do not submit to their will
and do not see them as they would like to be seen. Other films like the televised
short film La cabina (Mercero 1972) and the “third way” films El hombre que se
quiso matar (Gil 1970), and La vida conyugal sana expressly link economic
changes with the confusion and paralysis that afflict their protagonists.
Meanwhile the popular films of Manolo Escobar continue to provide resolution to
the dilemma—reconciling the common man to the new economic and social
realities.
leosSamaadirectorwhohadbeengrantedasomewhatgreaterdegree
of artistic fieedom under F rancoism as seen in chapter two, continued in the
critical vein that had produced such films as Peppermint Frappe. In 1972 he
released Ana y los lobos, a film that was highly critical of dictatorship institutions,
but which Franco is said to have personally viewed and allowed (Hopewell 76).
In it a young foreign nanny, Ana, (Geraldine Chaplin) comes to live with a family
at their isolated country estate, the house and the domestic sphere fiequently
representing the national political arena. The three middle-aged sons,
representing the triumvirate of male power under the dictatorship—the military
1036, the sexual Juan, and the religious Fernandonall try to engage Ana and draw
her into their world. Geraldine Chaplin, daughter of Charles Chaplin and
romantic as well as artistic partner of Carlos Saura, comes to occupy an important
niche in the oeuvre of this important director. As a foreigner, Chaplin is allowed

to represent those values considered separate fiom Spanish womanhood and thus

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the "sueca," or modern foreign woman, could be grappled with and, as in this
film, eliminated as an expression of resistance to the dissonance produced by her
presence. She interacts temporarily with each of the three brothers, ultimately
rejecting them all. Their physically paralyzed yet emotionally domineering
Mama (their father is dead) encourages the sons in their pursuit, inciting them to
compete among themselves for Ana, but ultimately casting negative judgment on
her ("Esta no es como las otras. 3E3 mala mala malal"). Ana's foreignness is
clearly marked throughout the film. In the first long take in which she appears,
herappearanceismodernwithhairlooseandpantstight, carryingherown
suitcase across an extensive barren field toward the house. Shortly after her
arrivalJoségrabsherpassportandasksherperfirnctoryquestions abouther
travels just as a border control agent might ("por el bien de todos"), while her tape
player blasts foreign pop music in the backgrormd. Already dominated by their
forceful, opinionated mother (and Juan by his "fiigid" wife Luchi), the three men
seek understanding fiom this newcomer, attempting to demonstrate their power
before her. After she eventually rejects each of them—ridiculing Jose's "murder"
of a mechanical bird, confionting Juan about his pornographic love letters, and
rejecting F emando's attempt to induct her into his monastic community of one by
cutting her hair-it becomes clear that she will not be assimilated. She packs her
things to leave but is waylaid by the three brothers who act now in concert to
subdue her-Juan raping her, Fernando cutting her hair and José shooting her
dead. Thisfinalattackcanbeseenasadesperateattempttoturnbacktheclock

andthrrscontainthechangesthatthreatentheirwayoflifeandhistorical

108

patriarchal privilege. Unable to master the threat of the forces of modernization
represented here by their failed attempt to influence and impress Ana, they simply
eliminate her, using brute force as their male prerogative has traditionally
dictated However, unlike Julian who reverted to controlling his secretary in
Saura's earlier film, the brothers are now left alone to try to carry on the
patriarchy. Their aged mother will die, Luchi has already rejected Juan, their
father is long dead and there are no sons to carry on the family name. They are
left isolated and rejected with no hope of a future-the final result of their heinous
acts.

Another film hour the same year, Habla Mudita by director Manuel
Gutiérrez Aragon, uses as its focal point a relationship between an older man and
a younger woman. The teacher-pupil dynamic that characterizes their relationship
recalls the Pygnralion myth in which the powerful male molds the woman into his
ideal and then falls in love with the image he has created. While on vacation in a
northern forest in Spain, the educated linguist from Madrid, Ramiro (José Luis
Lopez Vézquez), "discovers" and tries to teach an attractive deaf-mute girl to
speak. Tired of his family and the trappings of his urban life, he ventures ofl' by
himself to recover some of his things from a "refugio" higher up in the hills, a
symbolic last refuge of traditional masculinity away ficm the efi‘ects of a
changingsociety. Whenhegetslosgflrespaceheentersismarkedofi‘asasortof
pre-literate, fairy tale universe: he awakens fiom a nap in the woods to a dense
fog through which he navigates by following a passing cow. The beast leads him

to the home of the "Mudita" (Kitty Manver) who lives with her grandmother,

109

mother and deaf-mute brother. The "animal" nature of the Mudita is presented
through an emphasis on her body—she chews and spits out garlic rather than
chopping it, licks her small blackboard clean, and is told by Ramiro that she
smells of livestock. She watches all and reacts with animal-like wariness to
unexpected movements and situations. The "un-civilized" nature of the place is
also emphasized by the existence of an incestuous relationship between her and
her deaf-mute brother, a relationship that does not elicit a reaction of shame fi'om
her, thus demonstrating her lack of exposure to social mores and prohibitions.
Don Ramiro discovers the Mudita who, interestingly, is never named in
thefilmandimmediately setsouttoteachhertospeak. Tohimsheisasortof
splendid tabula rasa upon which he can write his name, or rather the "name-of-
the-father," foundation of the symbolic order as described by Lacan (he
repeatedly tries to get her to repeat "Ra-mi-ro"), and his attentions extend to
encouraging her to "ser una seflorita." He would like to position himself as a sort
of savior/ guru, becoming her sole source of information and education. He does
eventuallysucceedingettinghertocleanherselfupandtorepeatafewsounds,
but his experiment goes awry as he finds he cannot control her desires. "Pideme
lo que quieras" heurgesherinatendermoment, butwhen shereaches forhis
radiohebecomesangryandbrutally slapsheroffherchair. Itisasifhewants
herto learnbutonly fiomhimandnot fromthe radio which wouldallow inthose
modern consumer forces that he does not control and fiom which he now flees.
However, despite his efforts to avoid it, Ramiro cannot hold the outside world at

bayforever. Afierspendinganighttogetherinanabandonedbuthetwoare

110

surrounded by angry members of their respective worlds—those fiom the village
who accuse him of rape, and his wife and family who would try to protect the
family’s dignity. In the end he is led off, docile and dejected, to his stem-looking
wife, whose features soften into a look of triumph as they silently head back to
Madrid. It is as if he has awakened flour a virile fantasy in which he was the
omnipotent keeper of knowledge and patriarchal power, and condemned to return
to a life of diminishing respect in which his grandson tells him he is so old he
might as well die, and where his wife solicitously asks him about his bowel
movements, reducing him to an infantilized figure in modern society. This image
recalls the earlier film Surcos which established a tension between traditional
patriarchal values represented by the countryside, with the forces of
modernization and consumerism which serve to emasculate the individual male
figure who fails to dominate them. Like the patriarch in Surcos, Ramiro’s
masculine power seems to function only away from the city, or rather away from
the environment where patriarchal power has become confirsed and obfuscated by
a value-system that represents the forces of modernization.

The struggle to reconcile traditional masculinity with social and economic
changes of the 19703 through the control of women is again played out in Luis
Berlanga's Tamaito natural. Written by Rafael Azcona, this film, which is set in
Paris, was originally released in French (interior shots were done in Madrid) and
because of censorship, appeared in France several years earlier than its 1978
release in Spain; however its well-known Spanish director and screenwriter

situate itwithinthecorpusofSpanishcinema. ltisaninterestingattemptto

lll

reconcile commodity culture, the exoticism of the foreign woman and traditional
masculinity—an attempt that utterly fails in the end. In the film a dentist named
Michel (Michel Piccoli) receives a life-size polyurethane sex doll that he has
ordered fiom Japan—thus exercising his consumerist power but, ironically, as a
way to recreate gender relations of the past. He proceeds to treat the doll as if it
were a real woman: courting, talking to, having sex with, "marrying" and
ultimately growing jealous of and "killing" it. Meanwhile his real wife, who
appears very liberal and modern in her attitudes about relationships, makes an
attempt to convert herself into a doll-like creature in a desperate attempt to save
her marriage. The attempt quickly fails when her husband shuts her in a closet (as
he often does to the "real" doll) and rejects her when she begins to cry--the lack of
emotion being precisely one of the doll's valued qualities. The doll is seen not as
a supplement or addition to his fantasy life, but rather as a replacement for his
wife whom he feels is too complicated. Unlike his wife who argues, expresses
emotion and generally confuses him (as in an argument over whether she objects
to his going out without her and he says: "Dices sal y queda."/”You tell me to go
and then to stay.”), the doll cooperates unconditionally with his every whim and
fantasy making no demands ("Otras quieren un yate"), and reflecting himself back
as he would like to be seen. A3 Silverman has pointed out, "The 'ideal' female
subject refuses to recognize male lack, and disavowal and fetishism provide
important mechanisms for effecting this refusal" (Male Subjectivity 47). The doll
becomes the ultimate fetishized woman's body; the many closeups and partial

shots that disrnember its "integral being", along with its lack of volition, position

112

it as the ideal protection against the recognition of castration. Throughout the
film he maintains a "dialogue" with the doll in which she apparently assents to the
many questions he asks her. Additionally, the doll is granted a false visual
position of agency as, for example, when Michel speaks the words "Eres muy
guapo" while the camera delivers a closeup of the doll's face as if she were the
speaker.

The protagonist reinforces his own identity through the doll which is seen
to be complicit and agreeable in every aspect of his psychological drama; be
continually asks and affirmatively answers questions as if she were responding.
He isabletoposeanddressthedoll accordingtohiswhim—apropensitythatis
reiterated in a sequence in which after first receiving the doll, pinching her nipple
andservingheradrink,thecamerashifts fromaclose—upoftlredoll's mouthto
the mouth of a yormg girl in his office upon whom he is fitting braces. This
juxtaposition suggests his desire to mold or form the female as he likes. This shot
is immediately followed by one of the doll, now in the little girl's place in the
dentist's chair, thus reinforcing the equation of the "malleable" little girl with the
doll. Interestingly his ageing mother seems to prefer the inanimate doll to his real
wifeaswell. Dressingitinheroldclothesandusingittoholdyamwhileshe
knits, she points out that she has been able to spend more peaceful time with the
dollthanshewaseverabletowithhisbusy, modemwife. The idyll comesto an
end however when he discovers that the doll has been "unfaithfirl" to him—or
ratherthatthedoorrmnhasbeenusingitforhisown sexual pleasure. Michel

becomesenmgedandlikethethreebmflrersinAnayloslobosJe"kills" the

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uncontrollable "female" by brutally and repeatedly stabbing it thus eliminating the
threat. Whereas in Saura's film the men were allowed to live on with their
anachronistic patriarchal values and agonize in their own seclusion outside of
society (albeit apparently destined for extinction), Michel is actually killed off in
the film-his car going over a bridge and into the Seine. As a last (bitter?) irony,
thedoll'sbodyfloatstothesm'faceasifinafinalactofinsubordination. A3
Hopewell has observed about films of the Transition, "The traumatized love seen
in Spanish films goes beyond the repression of women. It often entails their
disavowal, a complete obliviousness to their independent existence which, if
challenged, may prompt the woman's sublimation, and her total annihilation"
(170). Michel represents a version of masculinity so extremely destabilized and
vulnerable that it cannot tolerate any perceived recognition of its own weakness.
The "murder" of the doll represents Michel's inability to assimilate changing
gender roles in a modern society.

One of the most fascinating if disturbing Spanish films of the 19703
repeatsthetherneofthemalewhoprefershisownirnaginarytothecompanyofa
real woman: Jose Juan Bigas Luna's Bilbao. In this film Ieo (Angel Jove), a
maladjusted and solitary young man, tries to throw off the control of his older
caretaker/lover/mother figure and enter into a relationship with Bilbao (Isabel
Pisano), a stripper/prostitute and the object of his scopophillic obsession.
PresentedattheCanneslntermtional Film Festival in 1978, itgenerated
considerable interest and was the subject of lively debate and scandal in some

circles. The film received the "S" classification in Spain for its sexual content

114

and, while many went to see it out of an interest in its alleged eroticism, it has
been highly praised by critics as well. Juan Bulfill described Bilbao as "perlnps
thefirstfilmtotackleineamesttlreuseoftheurbanlandscapeandthedescription
of what we would call 'modern life'" (qtd. in Triana-Toribio 121), and the entire
film is suffused with a suffocating materialism reflecting consumer culture. In the
words of Bigas Luna, "Angel-Leo se encuentra perdido en un mundo de objetos,
consumista. En el fondo de la pelicula también hay una simbologia grande de lo
que es el consurno por el consumo, que en aquel momenta estaba comenzando"
(Pisano 79). Extreme close-ups of Bilbao's glossy red lips and bouncing breasts
ingarishneonlightsaswellasafishphotographedwithasausagehangingoutof
its mouth are interspersed with a multitude of the fetishistically close shots of
consumergadgetsunlproductsthatamseenmformanmtegralpmtofboththe
psychic and physical routine of the protagonist. The film has been described as
"rmlargoplanodetalleenelquesenosnarranlaspeculiaresrelacionesdeleo
con los objetos" (Pisano 20). The material reality of products and images, indeed
of pleasure itself in the close-ups of strippers and prostitutes, represents the
breakdown of the symbolic distance that had been enforced in the society of
prohibition. HereLeo,whooftenappearsinthefi1mintheroleofthespoiledand
petulant child, has access to whatever he wants, including Bilbao's body, both for
visual consumption as well as sexual plemure. The representation of this
immediacy is consonant with what Jean Baudrillard calls "the ecstasy of
commrmication" and describes in the following way: "There is no longer any

transcendence or depth, but only the immanent surface ofoperations unfolding,

115

the smooth and functional surface of communication" (12). The onset of a media-
centered existence brings with it the disintegration of the distinction between
public and private space. This destruction is accompanied by the disappearance
of the symbolic benefit of alienation or rather the loss of the ability to separate
subject fi'om object, selffrom Other. McGowan, discussing Baudrillard, goes on
to explain how this immanence removes any sense oftranseendence that the
subject was afforded in a society of prohibition—a society that marked off a public
spacewhereenjoymentwasnottobetaken. This lack is feltasaconstant
pressure to seek self-satisfaction as is reflected in Leo's interior monologue. In a
voice-over representing his interior monologue he continually asks himself if he is
happy, considering relationships with others, especially his caretaker/lover, Maria.
Ifisfocusonhisownhappinessandsafisfacfionmpresentaconsmnefistsmteof
mind consistent with the constant exposme of the average individual to the many
advertising media and campaigns of the day.

Leo tries to manage this immediacy in a strikingly similar way to Julidn in
Peppermint Frappe-by cutting out and pasting into scrapbooks advertisements
for consumer products ("anuncios y recortes que quiero ordenar") as well as
remindersandphotograplmofBilbaoofwhomhewouldliketogaincontrol
("Quiero apoderarme de Bilbao, apoderarme de todas sus cosas"). For Leo,
Bilbao is just one more object to add to his collection. As Bigas Luna says: "lo
[Bilbao's body] ve como un objeto que quiere tener para él del mismo modo que
un nifio quiere tener rmjuguete parajugar con 61" (Pisano 29). This is in keeping

with McGowan's description of human relations in a society of commanded

ll6

enjoyment: "All enjoyment involves seeing the Other as nothing more than a tool
and not showing 'consideration' for the Other" (14). As described previously,
Freud postulated the murder of the primal father and the prohibition of incest as
the foundational acts for social order alter which, "the sons recognize that, if they
are to live together in relative peace, they must agree to a collective renunciation
of enjoyment. Without this collective rentmciation, no one can have any feeling
of security, because there is nothing to mediate a life-and-death struggle for
enjoyment" (McGowan 15). Leo has no sense of self-restraint and does not
consider at any time what Bilbao desires, much less her boyfriend/pimp, but
ratherseesherasameanstofulfillhisowndesires—eventothepointofcausing
her death.
Nevertheless,1eoseemstosensethatflrereissometlfingdneateningabout
this ever-present, palpable existence of the material world. He first tries to
manageitbyaflempfingtocontainitinhisscrapboohandlaterbyhiswfllfirl
desire to strip away the immanence ofBilbao's body. He seeks to retum her to a
sort of spiritual/symbolic plane by realizing his vision of seeing her body appear
to float, and finally, photographing her in this position. Bigas Luna himself has
related this floating state to a sort of non-materialism: "tiene siernpre esa obsesion
de las cosas flotando, que yo la tengo también. Las cosas suspendidas en el aire
meparecenalgomistico (Pisano 96). Invariousmomentsthroughoutmefilmhe
repeats the words, "Quiero verla flotando" and he develops an elaborate plan to
achieve this goal. Kidnapping and rendering her rmconscious with chloroform, he

elevatesherbodybytyinghmlimbswithwrdsatmchedmmecdfingmdfinally

ll7

taking a photograph of her floating body which he will later put in his scrapbook.
Her body seems to resist his attempt to make it "float" or escape the bounds bfthe
material world, both when a leg comes untied and flops to the floor, and also
when, inbeingdragged fromoneplacetoanother,herheaddropssharplytothe
floor causing her death. Finally, alter achieving his goal and then shaving her
pubis (symbolic castration), he positions her in a chair next to his own, clasping
her Imnd and watching a pornographic film next to her unconscious, naked body.
Itisasifhe would liketorecreateachastedatingriteofthepast—likean
adolescent attending the cinema with his beloved. In this way he attempts to
contain threatening clunges and recapture gender relations of the past, relations
that are now shown to be irretrievably lost due to changes in himself and society--
including a taste for the newly available pornography. Like Michel in Tarnaito
natural, Leo rejects the possibility of a real relationship in the modern world for
an idealized vision. But ultimately, his is a vision that can only take place in the
absence of an actual partner—first chloroformed into unconsciousness, and then,
finally, dead. Like Michel's, his solipsistic vision needs to be protected fiom
another consciousness that would contradict and complicate it by expressing its
own desires. The only way he can realize his dream is by obviating completely
the consciousness of the other and thus containing the potential threat reflected
back through a woman's desire. Perhaps Bigm Luna himselfdoes something
similar by converting Bilbao's body into a symbol—after death her body is
consignedtoasmrsagefactorywhereshewillpresmnablybegroundupand

trnnedorrtinanewfomThewoman’sbodywilltaketheformoftlre sausageor

118

penis, a visual representation of the phallus and ultimate protection against
castration anxiety.

Economic changes are directly addressed in various films of the early
19703 which problematize the individual males' relationship to employment, the
business world and consumerism. Among them El hombre que se quiso matar,
LacabinaandLavidaconyugalsanaarethreethatareparticularly interestingin
terms of the relationship of the male protagonist to his surroundings. All three of
themrepresentacharacterwho isconfusedandunableto successfullymanage his
life, making specific reference to the work world and mastery within it. Rafael
Gil'sEIhombrequesequisomatar,a1970remakeofal942filmbythesame
name and director, presents economic limitations as a cause for suicide. The male
protagonist,aLatinteacherataboys' school, isrmabletoadvancefinanciallyand
decides to kill himselfnbut not until after he has had a chance to enjoy several
days ofthe complete freedom that the decision affords him. The press catches
windofhis situationandforashorttimeheistreatedasahero,afigureof
interest to all for his "devil-may-care" attitude and the anticipated spectacle of his
suicide. He finds, however, that in the end he no longer wants to die because now
he has fallen in love. So with cameras rolling, he escapes with his beloved,
realizingthatnowheisverymuchattachedtolife. Thetemporal
contextualizationisemphasizedinthisversionofthe filrnasnewspaperheadlines
shown over the opening credits announce happenings ofthe day: a case of
patricide, violence against a vacationing "sueca," an advertisement for career

traininginaccountingandfinally,shotsofthefirstmoonwalkin 1969. The

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protagonist, a clumsy and repressed Walter Mitty-type, frequently falls into
reveriesinwhichheseeshimselftriumphinginawaythatheneverdoesinreal
life: getting the raise fiom his boss, reng the bully, winning the girl. He is
disrespected by his girlfiiend and bullied by physically superior men who eject
him fiom his seat on the train and harass him in public. He even fails ridiculously
in several suicide attempts. Like Julian fiom Peppermint Frappe, he seems
oppressed by the sound of the enjoyment of others. Sounds of a young couple
laughingorahappy family interactingintheroomabove prove irritatingtothis
lone individual in his isolated existence. After losing his job, Latin being deemed
an anachronistic subject by his boss, and umble to wed his long-time fiance, he
wonders: "LE1 amor se puede regir por la ley del comercio?" He understands,
painfirlly,thatinthemodemcontexthehasnothingifhedoesnothaveeconomic
success, decidesthat "Iavidaesunasco" andthathe mustendit. Evenhisdeath
willbeafl‘ectedbytheconsumeristenviroanasheispaidtoagreetonamea
particular brand of flan, on camera, before shooting himself. In the end, love and
thepromiseofemploymentbringhimbackfiomthebrink—a "happyending"to
an otherwise painfully honest film. The pursuit of romantic love has been seen to
represent a sort of "decoy" issue in a consumerist culture. Anna Kombluh
discusses this phenomenon in regard to the American film, Family Man (2000):
"The ideological work of the film lies in the direct translation of alienation into a
need for love, which is also to say the erection of a decoy alienation" (124). The

protagonist's sense of desperation and alienation—feelings that were common to

manyinpcriodsofhighrmemploymentanddramaficeconomicchange—areseen

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to be alleviated by a preoccupation with the love, the answer to all our problems
in, as Kombluh calls it, the Oedipus industrial complex."

La cabina by director Antonio Mercero is a powerful representation of
victimizationoftheworkingman. Inthisshort filmtheprotagonist, amiddle-
aged business man (José Luis Lopez Vézquez), gets inexplicably trapped in a
phone booth that has been newly erected in the middle of his non-descript housing
development. Seeing his young son off to school (thus establishing his role
within the patriarchy), he enters the booth to make a eall. After several failed
attempts, he discovers that he can no longer open the door to leave. Confusion
turnstopanicandfinallydespairwhenaseriesofpassers—byareunabletohelp
himescape. lntheendheandtheentirebootharecartedawaytoasortof
graveyard for trapped working men in various stages of decay—all entombed in
the now abandoned phone booths. This curious film ends with a shiny new booth
being deposited in the center of the housing development once again, doors
opened in wait. L6pez dequez once again reprises his role as the ineffectual
victimofclmngeshedoesnotunderstand. Hiswideeyesandbaldingpatereflect
an air of the duped middle-aged man/boy who is victim of a situation he cannot
master. Thatheservesasarepresentativeofworkingmeningeneral ismade
clear both by the many workingrnan stereotypes who pass by and sympathize with
his situation—the macho man, furniture movers, briefcase carriers, policemen,
firemen, etc—who, like him, try (and fail) to open the door; as well as by the
manyotherslikehimathisfinaldestination. Theprotagonist, alongwiththose

who would help him, are ridiculed and laughed at by women, children and other

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men in the crowd as they are publicly stripped of their dignity. In a poignant
moment members of a traveling circus, two juggler clowns and a midget holding a
shipinabottle,stareathimmournfullyasifinsolidarityasheiscarriedpast,a
scenethatdemteshisanachmnisficormarginalstamsinaclmngingsociety. In
this film man himselfseems to be deemed anachronistic and is victimized by
forces ofmodernity—represented by the shiny new phone booth in the center ofa
generic but brand new subdivision such as those that sprang up around major
citiesinmodernSpaintoaccommodatetheinflux fromthecountryside. ltisasif
to saythatjoiningtheranksoftheworkingrnanwitlraplaceinthesuburbshas
been a greatdeceptionand atrap, amovethatleads nowhere, except eventuallyto
death.

In LavidacorryugalsanabydirectorRobertoBodegaganow
unavoidable deluge of advertising and pressrne to consume effect a sort of
outright breakdown in the protagonist. This fihn, representative of the so called
”Tercera via" or Third Way cinema that flourished in Spain in the early 19703,
enactsflresuessesandanxietiesthatafl‘ectedthelifeoftheaverage Spaniard.
Steering a middle path between the complex, high-brow, metaphoric style of
auteur’ssuchas SamVictorEriceandothersononehand,andpopularfarceon
the other, these films sought to appeal to the growing middle-class: "una
produccion que no indignase a1 pr'rblico joverr, rrrbano y relativamente mas
culturado" (Monterde 21), and attempted to express the concerns and interests of
the growing middle class. Emique, played by Jose Sacristanuthe "everyman" of

19703 Spanish "Third Way" cinema-43 a traditional, conservative businessman

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whose marriage and personal life seem staid and predictable. But like Julian in
Peppermint Frappé and Leo in Bilbao, he is obsessed with cutting out glossy
advertising images and pasting them in elaborate scrapbooks. As in these other
films, it is as ifthrough this activity he is attempting to gain some control or
mastery over the changes surrounding him-changes that are emphasized through
the many shots of billboard advertisements and consumer products. These
advertisements signal the shift to a society of commanded enjoyment, as
McGowan describes: "The omnipresent advertisements calling us to enjoy
ourselves attest to the anal father's reign, and this reign represents a dramatic shift
in the deployment of the father's authority. Whereas the old father ruled as a
present absence, the new father's presence is suffocating; we can never get away
from sensing his enjoyment, even when he is physically absent" (50). Enrique
either abstains fi'om all pleasure or falls victim to consumer dictates, as when he
buys his wife some twenty three bras due to a particularly convincing ad
campaign,orfillshiscupboardwithaparticularbrandofsoaphehasseenon
television. His attempts to reconcile his hobby/obsession with his public persona
utterly fail as he ricochets back and forth between fieewheeling, sexually
liberated, modern consumer and uptight, sexually-repressed, traditional
businessman. The break between the two personalities occurs suddenly and
unpredictably, most often when he is looking at advertisements. It is explicitly
linked to the violation of prohibition and passage into a new world as is seen in
onebreakdowncollage sequence inwhichhe imagines Marilyn Monroe, theword

"Prohibition," footage of the demolition of the "Diario Madrid" building (a

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newspaper that had become increasingly critical of government actions and which
had been ordered closed by Franco in 1971), and the birth ofa newborn babyna
sequence signaling his inner conflict and final rebirth into a new order: the order
of consumption rather than prohibition.

Despite attempts to package change in a digestible fashion as "Third Way"
cinematriedtodo, sucharadical about faceintherepresentationofthedesirable
male model brought with it confusion and a renegotiation of male sexuality. We
seeshadesoftlremasculineidealofthepastnowtingedwithconsumerismas
Enrique and his friend compete to see who can magnanirnously offer the more
"American" of cigarettes to the other, thus subverting the self-sacrificing model of
thepastasthemale characterstryatoncetobethe most givingaswellasthe
most "having" (of the American consumer product). Enrique's sense of masculine
self is clearly affected by advertising, and upon watching an automobile
advertisement featuring a beautifirl female model and a soundtrack of Richard
Wagner's heroic "Ride of the Valkyries," he lies to his wife in order to purclmse it.
The idea of heroism, evoked here by the well-known musical piece, is clearly
subverted fi'om its earlier connection with self-sacrifice, as now it is directly
linked to acquisition and self-gratification—in direct contrast to the hegemonic
model as seen in Los riltimos de F ilipinas for example.

Meanwhile, in popular cinema, Manolo Escobar continued to ease the
transition of the traditional male to modern society by marrying and thus taming
themodernfemalewhflealsoenteringseamlesslyintoaconsumersocietyin Me

has hecho perder eljuicio (1973) by director Juan de Ordufla. Interestingly, as in

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Mi cancién es para ti (1965), there is a split or double Manolo. This device
allows for one version of Manolo who has "sold out" or become commercialized
and rich, while our protagonist Manolo remains by contrast authentic and, at least
initially, poor. In this later film there is a further splitting of the male protagonist
through the convention of the "buddy" or constant companion, in this case played
by Andres Pajares who is forever on the lookout for ways to promote Manolo and
thus get rich. Through this device Manolo is allowed to remain above and
untainted by the grasping and negotiating conducted on his behalf. He is clearly
the more positive of the male models presented—considered more handsome,
courageous, honest and desirable to women. However, in not rejecting outright
the scheming of his friend, he allows a sort of graft of this more materialistic
masculine model onto himself without incurring the "guilt" of chasing after
financial gain himself. The premise ofthe film is that they will sue a large
perfinnecompanythatgmranteesthatthewemerofitsprodrntwiflfindlove.
They decide that Manolo will claim that the product has actually repelled women
thus ruining his chances for love. It is understood that, whether they win or lose,
the publicity will be helpful to his fledgling musical career. The stem,
bespectacled female president of the company hears of the ploy, sending various
women and finally going herself to draw Manolo into a "compromising" situation
andthusdiscrcdithiscase. orcomsedretworaumadryinroveandimtcadof
destroying him, the president transforms herself into a traditional woman, learning
tocookcalamariandtortilladepatatasinordertoplease him. Forhispart,

Manolorenouncesthecaseindreend,admiuingtheployandreuuningtohis

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honest job as a metro train operator. The grand reconciliation of the various
themes occurs through the marriage of the two—Manolo has gained publicity
through the course of the trial, the hard-edged president has been "feminized" and
subordinated by love, and the two will live happily-ever-after in their materially
comfortable future. The traditional synthesizing mechanism of marriage serves
heretorestoresocial orderbasedonthepatriarchal familyandsubordinatesthe
strong woman to her husband.
ILLackofOedipal Resolution: InfantilizedandAlienatedMalcs

It is hardly possible, when employing a psychoanalytic perspective as this
workdoes,toleaveoutadiscussionoftheoedipal farnilyandhowchangesinits
representation reflect changes in society. As the "primary vehicle of insertion in
the 'dominarrt fiction'" (Silverman, Male Subjectivity 2), the positive Oedipus
complex whose resolution requires that the male child pass from desire for his
morepowerful fathertoidenfificafionwithhimfimctionsinacapitalist society to
reproduce the basic social unit or father-headed, nuclear family, which in turn
assures continuation of the society as a whole. As Kinder says: "From a
poststructuralist perspective the story of Oedipus is one of the powerful master
narratives in Western Civilization because, through its successful proliferation
and compulsive repetition, it helps the dominant patriarchal culture reproduce
itself" (Blood Cinema 197). In the 19703 Spain suffered a social breakdown such
that many feared disintegration and the possibility of another civil war. In the
Spanish context ofthis time it would appear that oedipal resolution was not

achieved as we see the frequent repetition and reworking of the son's relationship

126

with his family-u3ually his mother who has assumed the paniarchal fimction in
the father's absence. This obsessive return to the oedipal drama implies a lack of
resolution. Freud describes this return in the following way: "a neurotic on the
other hand invariably exhibits some degree of psychical infantilism. He either
failed to get fiee fiom the psycho-sexual conditions that prevailed in his
childhoodorhehasrennnedtothern—twopossibihfiesflratmaybesummedupas
developmental inhibition and regression" (Totem and Taboo 22). The abundance
of films that return to the theme of the dysfrmctional fanrily context reflects a lack
of resolution ofthis fimdamental issue. This lack of oedipal resolution in 20"-
century Spainhasbeenobserved byMarshaKindertobethedirectresultofthe
Spanish Civil War which left those brutally dominated children, the "Children of
Franco," unable to reach mature adulthood. As she describes it: "Being forced
perpetually into the role of Franco's children was undoubtedly emasculating. In
these movies childlike men all have sexual conflicts related to incest,
homosexuality, or pedophilia. None of them ever becomes a father" ("Children of
Franco" 75). However, as Silverman points out regarding Rebecca West's study
ofsheIl-shock and male trauma, though the war may serve as an easily
identifiable initial traumatic event, traditional masculinity itself is built on a series
oftraumatic pressures and "glosses" ofreality such that the delicate process of
identification with the father and patriarchal privilege is always precarious. The
threatofcastration isneverwholly overcomeand maintenance oftheheterosexual

normative sex role must be constantly reinforced:

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West thus radically claims not that the trauma of war has shattered
English masculinity, but that the masculine order itself, even
before the war, is a construct based in and constituted through
trauma[. . .]thewarisnotthetramnaitselfbutmarksthe
breakdown ofthe defenses ofmasculinity against the actual
trauma, the knowledge of its own constructedness. ("Men in
(Shell) Shock" 162)
In the early 19703 the end of Franco’s regime coupled with rapid social change
tipped the scales such that, now lacking the ultimate patriarchal signifier of the
dictatorship, oedipal resolution was deeply destabilized. Whereas during the
dictatorship a semblance of male mastery and superioritynthe patriarchy in
general-had been reproduced with relatively minor changes, in the 19703, seismic
events revealed the deep fissures that had been forming in the male psyche for
many years. With the promise of the patriarclnl inheritance in jeopardy, many
men seemed to fail to take the final step in the oedipal process—that ofrenormcing
their desire for the father in favor of an identification with him. Teresa Vilaros
reiterates this failure: "En la historia reciente espaflola no ha habido resolucion
edipica. Loshijos,losciudadanos,nomataronalpadreni3equedaronconla
madre [ . . . ] la narrativa edipica espaflola es totalmente insatisfactoria" (152).
Themalechild's failuretoassumetheparentalrole indicateshislackofmaturity
within the patriarchal context.
The Spanish oedipal narrative as represented in 19703 cinema replays a

specificpattem-anabsem,alienatedordeadfather;apauimchalmomeronto

128

whom repressive tendencies have shifted; and either daughters, or sons who
refuse/are unable to assume an independent heterosexual patriarchal masculine
role. The representation of a family structure is virtually omnipresent in cinema of
the period and examples of films containing one or more of the above mentioned
elements abormd, indicating the importance of this unit to the psychological
reality and development of the individual as well as society. Monterde expresses
this importance of the family as a privileged representational site in Spanish
cinema:
mas alla de su posible naturalidad como forma de agruparniento
social, la familia, ese totem del franquismo, se nos ofiece
multifuncional: como lugar de expresion del poder, como reducto
de esencias en decadencia, como metafora de agrupamientos
politico-sociales mas arnplios, como célula economica de
produccibn y reproduccion, como ambito de neurosis y obsesiones,
como territorio de sometimiento y transgresibn [ . . . ], como
refirgioemanadodelpasadoocomocampodebatallapara
multiples emancipaciones, como marco de la maduracion e
iniciacion a1 sexo, como escenario de la confiontacion de viejas y
nuevas costumbres sociales, etc. (25)
It follows then that the family would be the site of the expression and reworking
of masculine identity formation. The death of the grand patriarch, Franco,
coupled with a shift away from the repressive order of the dictatorship, effectively

removed from the Spanish imaginary the powerful, dominating father figure at

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this time thus destabilizing the entire patriarchal family structure. The
internalization and normalization ofhis rule are represented in the figure ofthe
mother who wishes to propagate a system in which she herselfhas been elevated
to a position of considerable influence and power.

In the 19703 the psychological effects of a system that no longer
guaranteed the patriarchal reward or privilege while still claiming its sacrifice in
terms of self-renunciation and the sacrifice of oneness with the mother's body is
no longer sustainable. While the model of hegemonic masculinity-in cinema
represented by the powerful patriarch—dissolves, the mechanism that has
propagated this system—the patriarchal mother and repressive family structrne—is
exposed. The oedipal narrative does not progress to the point at which the son
identifies with his father, trusting that he will inherit the patriarchal privilege in
exchange for his sacrifice. Rather, left fatherless, he lives out his life in a state of
arrested development—trapped in infantile narcissism and/or a lack of separation
from the mother who assumes grotesque and overpowering proportions. The
mother, linked symbolically to dictatorship values, occupies a disproportionately
large and potentially overpowering position in regard to her fatherless sons. As a
representation ofthe Francoist patriarchy, she threatens to engulfher "sons" who
no longer assume the mantle of patriarchal power due to the destabilization of the
hierarchy. As Maria José Gomez Fuentes writes, "cuando la madre aparece no
3610 se esta hablando de una madre sino del franquismo" (Lozano Aguilar 146),
and along with Van Liew, recognizes the peculiarly overpowering relationship of

themothertohersons. MariaVan LiewanalyzesthemotherroleinAnaylos

130

lobos, Camada negra, Mamd cumple cien afios y F urtivos in order to show how it
evokes the "mythical memory of their dead father" (430). However, the sons
produced by the dead father and this overpowering mother prove to be sterile, or
rather, rmabIe/tmwilling to reproduce the sons that would carry on the patriarchy.
Interestingly it is through "commerce" with the outside world that escape seems to
be possible. In each of the four films mentioned above, a "non-traditional" female
character enters but must be rejected or killed in order to preserve the order of the
past. The mother, or patriarchal system, cannot harbor rivals who, like the foreign
Ana in Ana y Ios lobos, Milagros in F urtivos, or the single mother, Rosita, in
Camada negra, must be expelled.

Camada negra, written by José Luis Borau and Manuel Gutierrez Aragon,
depicts a group offascist "incontrolados" or ultra right wing resisters in the
Transition period. It focuses on the process of maturation and entry into the group
oftheyormgTatinwhosemotheristhespiritual leaderandmotivatorofthe
group. Declaring that she considers the group as her sons, she houses them and
coaches them in hatred and the destruction of liberalization attempts. Tatin is
required to undergo a series of tests proving his allegiance and dedication, the
finalonebeingthesacrificeofthewomanheloves—whoseheadhesmasheswith
a rock while chanting "iEspafla! iEspafia! iEspafia!" The familial structure
represents a typical arrangement from films of the period—a powerful mother,
Blanca, who embodies dictatorship values and who seems overly close to her
"sons"—kissing them on the mouth, seeing them rmdress, and living closely with

them. Theyaresubmissivetoherwillandthoughadultmen,donotseemtohave

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partners or children. And though an actual father is present in the film, he is an
ineffectual, decrepit old man whose firmbling sexual advances are brushed off by
Blanca. His sensuality is fundamentally opposed to the ascetic life-style pursued
bytheothers. ltisunderstoodthattherealfatherfigure isthedictatorandit is
dictatorship values which are being propagated within the "family." The
dichotomy between modern life and the life within this family revolves around the
concept of self-denial. Hopewell has commented regarding this film that this
dichotomy is emblematic, and that this film implies that, "denial of pleasure is at
the core of the fascist value system" (194). Though much of the action occurs
withintheconfinesofthe compound, Tatin'spursuitofawomanwhoisawaitress
and single mother, presents the possibility of escape. He is shown to be genuinely
tender and affectionate with her and her son. However, the demands ofthe
"father of prohibition," here embodied in Blanca, require that he sacrifice the
thinghedesiresmostindicatingareturntopostwarFascistvalres. Self—
indulgence isseentobeinimicaltothefimdamentalnatureofthis family, and
must be eliminated.

The infantilization of the male protagonist in early Transition cinema is
strikingly apparent. From populartoart-house cinema, anabrmdanceoffilms
represent boy/men—at times for comic effect as can be seen in Lo verde empieza
en los Pirineos (Escriva, 1973) in which the curious yet deeply inhibited
protagonist sneaks across the French border to view forbidden films and try to
overcome his fear of women—but more often as tragic representatives of a

generationthatisateaseneitherinthepatriarchal societyofdrepastnorinthe

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more liberated consumer society that is rapidly coming to dominate Spain.
Successful and critically acclaimed films like La prima Angelica (Saura, 1973)
and F urtivos (Borau, 1975) repeat the representation of the stunted, fatherless son
who struggles to escape the traumatic and repressive constraints of his youth.
This theme can also be seen in the lesser-viewed but extremely powerful films
Bilbao, El desencanto (Chavarri, 1976) and Arrebato (Zulueta, 1979). Often self-
destructive or extremely violent, they struggle to manage change as do the male
protagonists in El espiritu de la colmena (Brice, 197 3), Pascual Duarte (Franco,
1975) and Camada negra (Gutierrez Aragon, 1977). The disjuncture that was the
Transition interrupted the smooth passage from youth to adulthood and the male
protagonists in the above-mentioned films represent this tumultuous moment in
Spanish history.

Spanish comedic cinema which was usually aimed at the broader, general
publicoftenseemedtoenactsocialpressmesofthedayinalighthcartedway
while also ultimately providing resolution through a restoration of order, perhaps
slightly modified, but generally conservative in its essence. In (,Pero en que' pais
vivimos? and Me has hecho perder eljuicio with Manolo Escobar, as in L0 verde
empieza en los Pirineos, it is through marriage to the seemingly untamable
woman that order is restored. Serafin (Jose Luis Lopez Vézquez) is a bachelor
wholivesasexuaflyrepressedexistencemthehomeofhispnrdishmaidenaunt
He longs to get close to a woman but is unable to bear it psychologically (he
experiences "temblores y palpitaciones") due to some trauma in his past which

causeshimtosuddenlyseebeardsappearonwomentowhomheisattlacted. The

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trauma is explicitly related through flashback to punishment he received at the
handsofhis fatlrerandthepriest forwatchingalittle girl urinate. Thebeardisa
reflection of a painting he saw in church during the punishment: "La mujer
barhuda" by José de Ribera. This traumatic memory plagues him and prevents his
assuming an adult heterosexual role; meanwhile his maiden aunt intervenes in the
present to ensure that he experiences no erotic pleasure as, for example, when her
strident voice interrupts his daydreams of a sensual foreign women. His
psychologist recommends that in order to resolve this issue he chant constantly
that man is the king of creation and woman nothing but an inferior being. As is
often the case in films of this period, the idea that others are enjoying themselves
haunts the virginal existence of Serafin as he looks at a fiiend's sexy postcard
from abroad and discusses the x-rated cinema on display in Biarritz, just across
the border in France. Finally, Serafin and two fiiends set out on their own
adventure to Biarritz, playfully singing: "Tenemos un defecto" (thus accepting the
sort of "defective" masculinity that embraces self-indulgence), as they cross the
border and begin glutting themselves on forbidden films and the sight ofwomen
in bikinis whose fetishistically shot forms are served up for the audience's visual
consumption as well. After a few disillusioning days in France, Serafin falls in
love with a Spanish hotel maid and, inexplicably, overcomes his anxiety as no
beardappcarswhentheykiss. ThepoliceshowupatSerafin'sapartmentand
order his return to Spain, but he returns now happily with his future bride in the
socially sanctioned "correct" and regulated relationship. The film seems to

provide the assurance that, while a small dose of foreign-style liberalization may

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serve a certain purpose, it is essentially with the age-old institution of marriage
(i.e. the Church and the traditional Spanish social order) that true happiness can
be found.

Thestruggle formaturity isafundamental themeofmany films from the
19703. As mentioned earlier, overpowering mothers are unwilling to cede power
totheirsons. MaméinMamécumple cienaflosrefusestosellherestateto
benefit her sons, Blanca of Camada negra supports her son Tatin's murder of his
girlfriend, and in Fra'tivos Martina must be physically dragged out of her bed (a
bed it is understood she shared with her son) to be replaced by her son's young
wife,awomanshewilllatermruderinanattempttorestorcherincestuous
relationship with her son. In others like La prima Angelica, Bilbao, El desencanto
and Arrebato, the male protagonists live out their lives in the absence of a father,
unable to reach matruity nor to assume a place within the patriarchy. Stagnation
and sterility permeate these works whether it be Luis who is psychologically
frozen by an infantile trauma which prevents his loving his adult cousin,
Angelica; Leo in Bilbao who cannot extricate himself fiom a sexual relationship
with his older surrogate mother; the Panero sons who fall into substance abuse
andmadnesswhfleuyingtonegotiatetheafiermathofflreirfathefsdeathmr
Pedro in Arrebato who is seen in his aunt's old house, addicted to heroin, his
childhood toys and books, and super-8 films. It is apparent that these figures are
experiencing a crisis in the process of entry into a mature adult role.

In Saura's "sequel" to Ana y Ios lobos, Mamd ample cien afios (1979), as

insomanySpanishfilmsfiomflusfimepaiodthefamilyunitisthefocusand

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the action takes place in and around the family home, ofien used symbolically by
Sauna and others to represent Spain. The blood relatives find themselves locked
into difficult relationships with one another from which they are not able to break
away, and again, in the absence ofa family patriarch, the sons form an unusually
close relationship with their domineering mother. "Mama" is about to turn one
hundredandhertworemaining sons (the military Jose is dead) alongwiththe
wife of one of them plots her murder, in the hopes of finally taking financial
control of the estate, or as Perez Perucha describes it, they are driven by
“mercantile interests to abandon the principles of a tyrannical philosophy” (71)
which clearly positions the traditional patriarchy in opposition to incipient
economic attitudes. Two visitors arrive and become involved in the workings of
the family. However, they are marked as outsiders as indicated by their
nationality-Ana, the English nanny who rettn'ns for a visit after many years, and
her husband Antonio who is marked as foreign by the nationality of the actor
(Norman Briski, Argentina). Even more than in Ana y las lobos, the ponderous
figure of the matriarch is an unavoidable physical and psychological presence
within the home and even outside, as she now seems to have the mysterious
ability to overhear conversations between her children from a great distance.
Although unable to walk, she seems to be constantly in motion-waving her
handamovingherfeet, shrieking,singingortalkingconstantly. Thismadre
castrante/madre patriarcal who stands in for the father thus denying his
responsibility for violence against mothers and children, and more importantly,

protecting the sons from blame for desiring to be like the father (Kinder, Blood

136

Cinema 232), seems to dominate and control all-her children plot her death so
that they can sell some of the house's property and build a housing development
thus participating in the economic modernization of Spain in the 19708, but this
transfer of power is constantly denied to them as Mama recovers time and again
fi'om her epilepsy-like fits, reflecting perhaps Franco's prolonged dictatorship as
well as the psychological colonization that continued to be felt. Furthermore,
none of the three has fathered male progeny—an indication that the family name
or'narneofthefather" willendwiththem.

Again, Mama's three sons represent various stereotypical ways of ”being a
man" in Spain. One is the sadistic macho military man who, like Franco, has died
priortothebeginningofthe film, butwhoisseenthroughflashbackstobe
ridiculous and cruel. Jose is extremely interested in collecting and wearing
military uniforms and is prone to senseless violence. The second, Juan, is the
typical ”mujeriego", a married man who manipulates women of lesser power into
sexual relations. He is unable to stimulate his "frigid" wife, Luchi, but finds a
sense of mastery in his illicit affairs. The third is the sensitive "nifio faldero",
Fernando, who remains unmarried and in an tmusually close relationship with his
mother even into his older age and with whom he communicates telepathically.
He is unable to triumph in the world outside and even within his house seems
almost completely impotent as he repeatedly fails in his attempts to fly with a
glider ("No lo conseguiré nunca"), and also fails to win the love of Ana with

whom he wishes desperately to establish a closer relationship.

I37

But in spite of the fact that traditional modes of power (military, sexual
and scientific) fail, Fernando also possesses some sort of telepathic ability whose
nature is never fully explained. In one manifestation it is seen as a special sort of
communication with his mother. Without moving his lips he expresses his
thoughts to her and she is able to mysteriously "speak" to him in reply. This lack
ofseparation fromthemotherhasbeenobservedto indicateafailuretomasterthe
Oedipus complex and take up the patriarchal role: "A tendency toward regression
tonarcissistic 'blissful oneness'withthemother,asenseofomnipotencebasedon
the failure to separate from this dyad, is postulated as the chief obstacle to
'personhood' for a boy. In other words, he has to leave the womb-like warmth of
the home and strike out into the world to perform some 'test' that will set up an
autonomous identification" (Simpson 213). Though this inability to separate
himself fi'om his mother might be considered a failure in terms of oedipal
resolution, it poses interesting questions in terms of alternate masculine
development. This alternative to the traditional "masculine" powers remains
unexploredinflrefihmbtnitspresencemakesitselfknownasasortofstoppage
of time and action and it exceeds "reality." It could be seen as the inability to
assumeapatriarchal roleoritcould indicateanalternatedirection forthe male
figure-a sort of amorphous connectedness with other human beings that has been
called for by Susanne E. Hatty as a positive alternative to the sadistic, radically
independent hegemonic form of masculinity which seeks to maintain a clear
boundary between subject and object: "These ideas [of the violence mythos]

revolve around dualist hierarchies: The mind/body split; the dissociation of

I38

 

culture from nature; and of course, the radical separation of male from female"
(207). Fernando's power seems to defy the limits of space and time, and dissolves
the boundaries between his body and his mother's.

In this film the family unit is contrasted with the foreigners who, though
they are drawn in to the workings of the family, seem to be ultimately safe fi'om
itsdesmrcfiveandpmalyzingefl‘ecLAnaisEngfishandhasmpersonalinterest
in the economic doings that seem to dominate the lives of the others. Antonio,
whoseoriginisnotspecified, isalsomarkedasforeignbytheactor’sArgentine
accent. Furthermore, his introduction of marijuana into this traditional household
points to his connection with those forces of modernity affecting Spain—in this
case the influx of foreigners and drugs into the previously isolated country. In a
fetishistically shot close-up sequence, Antonio is seen rolling a joint which can be
seen to represent his possession of a phallic-like power, a power fi'orn outside,
tmrelatedtoandunmediatedbythedictatorship. It isapowerthatallowshim
access to the granddaughter ofMamé—first sharing thejoint and later having sex
with her. His power and relative psychological, emotional and physical fieedom
within the house contrasts dramatically with the impotence of the sons.

11]. Deviance and Subversion: Undoing the Father

The abundance of films portraying disadvantaged or "perverse" male
figmes,orrathermaleswhosebehaviordoesnotconformtothehegemonic
model, can be seen to represent a masochistic disavowal of traditional patriarchal
power—amovethatrepresentsbothareactiontotraumaaswellasanescape

fiomthenarrownessoftheboundsoftheimposedmodel. Ianalyzeheretwo

I39

manifestations of this movement, masochism and homosexuality, and speculate
on how these ultimately represent an attempt to reconfigure male subjectivity
during the Transition. And so, in addition to their function as a representational
device for traumas and stresses expressed in the dictatorship and postdictatorship
period, deviant male characters represent an attempt to liberate the individual
fi'om the patriarchal inheritance. As Vilaros notes, ”la explosion pr'rblica sexual
de los primeros afios del posfranquisrno no busca una identidad, sino, por el
contrario, despojarse de ella, 'salirse' de ella" (191). Deviance was a reaction to
the death of the "father of prohibition"—-both a reaction against those prohibitions
of the past as well as a collective exorcism of the father within oneself—the
effects of being the "Children of Franco." In Jan Jagodinsky's schema: "this
momentcanbeseenasthetransitionaway fromthedemandsofthatsystem
which promoted prohibition, a historical juncture when questioning the Name-of-
the-Father means opening the door to perversity and sexual enjoyment which has
been 'traditionally’ barred by the Law" (29).

Masochism, while generally not explicitly fiamed as such in the films
discussed here, is a useful trope for analyzing the function of the outpouring of
representations of "broken" males in the 19703. The representation of male
characters as "defective" in regard to hegemonic male models of the dictatorship
point toward the liberation of the individual from prohibitions of the past.
Jacques Deleuze's description of the natme of masochism helps to illuminate the

processbywhichanoppressiveandbankmptmodelofthepastisundone:

I40

 

Sadism involves a relationship of domination, while masochism is
thenecessaryfirststeptowardliberation. Whenwearesubjected
to a power mechanism, this subjection is always and by definition
sustained by some libidinal investment: the subjection itself
generates a surplus enjoyment of its own. This subjection is
embodied in a network of‘material' bodily practices, and, for this
reason, we cannot get rid of our own subjection through a merely

intellectual reflection. Our liberation has to be staged in some kind

 

of bodily performance and, furthermore, the performance has to be

ofanapparently 'masochistic' nature; ithastostagethepainful

process of hitting back at oneself. (183)
Spanish filmic representationsofmeninthe l970sprovidethestagingfora
masochistic liberation fiom the dictatorial father of prohibition. In Deleuze's ofi-
quoted description of masochism, "it is not a child but a father that is being
beaten" (58), and what the subject atones for is "his resemblance to the father and
the father's likeness in him" (53). And as Silverman expresses it, "Masochism
works insistently to negate paternal power and privilege [ . . . ] The masochist
thus liberateshimselfinpreparation forarebirthinwhichthefatherwillhave no
part” ("Masochism and Male Subjectivity” 58). Thus the many films that have at
their center the torture, denigration and destruction ofthe male protagonist can be
seen as part of this process of annihilation of the patriarchal father, the force now
internalizedthatstandsbetweentheindividualandhisenjoyment. Films like El

espirr'tu de la colmena (1973) and later, El 510' (1983), both by director Victor

I41

Erice portray the alienated son of an absent but still powerful patriarchal father
whohauntsthepresentofthemanwhocanneithertakeprideinhisroleas
inheritor of patriarchal privilege nor reject it completely. In the earlier of these
films the adult son (Fernando Fernan Gomez), who is visually and audile linked to
the Frankenstein monster through the juxtaposition of shots of him and the
monster,rernainsaspecter. Likethebesshesubdueswith srnoke,heseems
unable to feel, a connection that is made explicit through a letter written by his
wifeinwhichshesays, "tantascosasdestr'uidas. . . Sefueconellasnuestra
capacidad para sentir la vida." Alienated fiom his daughters and his wife, he
pacesrestlesslyintheisolatedfarmhouse whichistheirhorne. Ericerecreates
this family structure ten years later in his second film, El sur. Again, this figure
seems alienated from others, and except for his daughter, barely interacts with
anyone. As she matures and leaves the confines of their intensely close
relationship, his sense of alienation increases and he eventually commits suicide
by shooting himself.
InPascualDuane,setinExuemadmaintheyearsprecedingthecivilwar,
the protagonist who has been raised in a violent and dysfunctional home, employs
indiscriminateviolenceasawayofexpressinghispain. Afierstabbingtodeatha
donkey and later shooting his devoted dog, Pascual kills his sister's lover and is
garrottedbythe Spanish Civil Guardforhiscrime. Franco'scameramanonthis
film, Luis Cudrado, emphasizes the violence with long, rmflinching takes of the
knife strokesastheypenetratethebellyoftheanimal. Thepersonalnatureofthe

violence through close takes, long shots, and realistic color and lighting, leave the

I42

viewer with the uncomfortable experience of participating in the violence
themselves. ButduetothepatheticnatureofPascual withwhomthevieweris
drawn into an uneasy identification, it is difficult to say on which side the viewer
stands. The overwhelming sense is that of the inevitability of violence for this
alienated male figure who, without wife, education, love or family support, will
never master his environment. The effects, manifested in the son, ofa violent and
abusive father are punished.

Violence and self-destruction can also be seen in many of the homosexual-
themed films from the period where protagonists risked their own safety to live
outside the demands of a patriarchal, heterosexist society. These representations
often assume a distinctly political element and it has been observed that
homosexuality in film is often linked to larger questions offieedom and one's
political identity (Carlos Alfeo Alvarez, 2005, Melero Salvador, 2005, Gabilondo,
R]. Smith, 1992). The great popularity of homosexual-themed films at a time
when the vast majority of Spanish society still seemed opposed to homosexual
liberation (Melero Salvador 89) may reflect not so much changing attitudes about
homosexuality,asthedesiretorepresentpersonal libertythatexistsoutsidethe
traditional patriarchal social structure. As Alfeo Alvarez states:

Ni siquiera las peliculas mas centradas en la tematica homosexual,
comosonlasquepertenecenaesteperlodo,profirndimrealmente
en las realidades homosexuales [ . . . ] La circunstancia del
personaje homosexual se convierte asi en espejo dc identificacién,

unespejoque,porserajeno,resultamastolerableparael

I43

espectador comr’m; una metafora que resuelve la amenaza que, en

el imaginario colectivo, planea sobre una Iibertad recién estrenada.

(204)
Representations of homosexuality, which first appeared overtly on the Spanish
screen in the 19703, can be considered to be part of a movement that rejects the
traditional patriarchal order. If it is considered that the positive Oedipus complex
in men, which as seen earlier was intimately related to the reproduction of the
basic social uniLthefamily,hadasitsoutcomethecreationofaheterosexual
male who would eventually assrnne his role within the hierarchy, then
representations of masculinity which resisted tlnt subject positioning (i.e.
homosexual, transvestite, transsexual, etc.) must be considered as subversive. As
Guy Hocquenghern explains in his landmark work on homosexuality Homosexual
Desire, "The direct manifestation of homosexual desire stands in contrast to the
relations of identity, the necessary roles imposed by the Oedipus complex in order
to ensure the reproduction of society" (106). Mark Simpson echoes this thought
inreferenceto homophobiawhichwasseen inchaptertwo inthede-stabilized
male roles in No deseards a1 vecino del quinto: "Explicit homosexuality
representsathreattothe maintenance ofthe very fraughtidentification
with/impersonation of the father, and thus their whole sense of self“ (13). The
relaxationandthendisappearanceofcensorshipinthe l970sisaconcrete
manifestationofalargertrendthathasbeendiscussed here,andthatisthewaning
of the very real power of prohibition along with a liberalization of desire, first

promotedinaconsumercontexgbutwhichlaterextendedtothesphereof

I44

sexuality. So while the violence and self-destruction characterizing so many films
of the period served to undo the father, homosexual-themed films indicated an
escape route—one undeniably fraught with danger but one which offered an
alternative to accepting the patriarchy or accepting death.

Early Spanish films with a marked homosexual theme were often
expressly political in focus as well, at least in part because a homosexual identity
was necessarily fiaught with subversive political implications in a strongly
CatholicandpaternalisticcountryasSpainwasatthetime. Directorssuchas
Eloy de la Iglesia, one of the first to include homosexuality in mass cinema, used
the climate of sexual openness immediately following the dictator‘s death to
explore the theme and as Alejandro Melero Salvador points out: "De la Iglesia
used sex and destape to drag Spanish audiences into his political agenda” (96).
De la Iglesia was interested in legitimizing a politically marginalized identity and
in ensming that post dictatorship openness extended to sexuality. Homosexual-
themed films of the 1970s were concerned with issues of acceptance and
discrimination and dealt directly with the initially violent reaction that faced those
who dared live, even clandestinely, as homosexuals. Los placeres ocultos and El
diputado (de la Iglesia, 1977, 1978), A rm dios desconocido (Chavarri, 1977), Un
hombre llamado Flor de 0toilo (Olea, 1978), Ocafia: retrat internment (Pons,
1978), and Arrebato represent male characters who reject traditional gender roles,
inmostcasestotheirownperil. Ofthese,two filmsthatareparticularly
illustrative of the connection between homosexuality and the theme of personal

fi'eedom, El diputado and Un hombre llamado Flor de 0toiio, serve to exemplify

I45

the rejection of the father of prohibition as well as the consequences this may
incur.

El diputado presents the violence that ensues when an individual tries to
throw off the confines of the patriarchy as a way of gaining individual freedom
apart from traditional masculinity as propagated under the dictatorship. J osé
Sacristan plays the Communist Party politician who is elected to office in the
aftermath of the fall of the dictatorship. His political opponents attempt to
discredit him by exposing his homosexuality. This exposure, though ostensibly
undertaken to discredit him politically, quickly moves its focus to his sexual,
rather than political identity. The opening shot of the stone genitalia of a marble
statue of Michelangelo's "David" immediately makes reference to, and
simultaneously calls into question the patriarchal power which, as Peter Lehman
and others have pointed out, relies on the hiding of the physical member that
supposedly links individual males to phallic power. Other shots within the film,
including those of male nudity indicate this film's openness to questioning the
phallocentric hierarchy. In recruiting thugs to challenge Communist Party
proceedings, me secret police tries to appeal to disaffected youth by promising
participation in the patriarchy, "Vas a convertir'te en un hombre de verdad.
Estaras protegido, incluso tendras armas." The promise is that these male youths
willbeabletotakerefirgeinthehierarchical powerstructureandthemale
prerogative to use violence—as men supposedly were in the past. De la Iglesia
commentsonthechangingvalues ofyouthinthenewconsurneristsociety for

whom the patriarchy itself is rmimportant—-provided that they are paid for their

146

services, they are willing to do anything. The politician's yomlg prostitute/lover
ultimately betrays him saying, "A ti te resulto facil comprarme . . . pues a ellos
también." The brutal murder of this young lover by right-wing extremists reflects
the patriarchy's unwillingness to cede its power, and the price that will be exacted
for trying to escape the system.

In Pedro Olea's Un hombre llamado Flor de 0toiio the Transition's most
representative actor, 1036 Sacristan, plays a lawyer, Lluis, who leads a secret
existence as a transvestite nightclub singer. Set in Barcelona in the 1920s during
the dictatorship of Primo de Rivera, an opening statement appears on screen
stating that this is a true story, thus establishing its political relevance. An
establishing shot pans down fiom the steeple of a large church to the steps below
where a congregation is gathering for Mass. Lluis helps his mother (his father is
dead) out of the car and up the steps. This scene along with the next representing
an afternoon lunch with his extended family, establishes his place in society as a
lawyer in a conservative, upper-class family. However, through a discussion of a
recent bombing and murder of a supposed anarchist, Lluis' political leanings are
revealed to differ considerably from those of his family. Their conservative and
staid attitudes reflected in clothing of black and white, contrast sharply with those
of the characters in the next scene in which a man in a bright orange robe brings
coffee to Lluis and his male lover in bed. Lluis dons a purple robe, takes the cup
and begins preparing for his drag show as the cabaret singer "Flor de Otoflo."
That he contemplates simultaneously a plot to assassinate the dictator and a plan

to reveal his "true" identity to his beloved mother, reflects the film's double

I47

preoccupation with politics and personal identity, similme to El diputado. In fact
be directly employs his subversive identity as a transvestite in the execution of the
plot, as he pretends to be a woman under attack as a ploy to distract a guard of the
railroad tracks he plans to destroy. Lluis is picked up by the police and
interrogated regarding the murder of another singer at the cabaret and the police
eventually detain him and his friends before their plot is fully executed.

The film's preoccupation with the question of liberty in general is made
explicit in a conversation between Lluis and a member of the sindicalistas in
which he states that he is not interested in compromise but rather seeks liberty for
alle be homosexual, and to be fiee in all aspects oflife. In this film men are
seen to be either supportive of the status quo or subversive and hidden as they
struggle for the relief that the color and lights of the nightclub provide. Their
existence is seen as far from frivolous, however, as Lluis and his friends risk their
lives to effect political change. The police chief remonstrates with him for not
living up to his illustrious last name—a reference to his lack of respect for the
traditional patr'iarchy——upon hearing that Lluis was involved in a homosexual
relationship. His concern is that Lluis' dead father (and thus the patriarchy) is
being dishonored by his homosexual behavior. However, the truly revolutionary
nature of Lluis' identity clearly exceeds his desire to put on a dress and have sex
with men. In a dream that Lluis recounts in great detail, he repeats a line that is
playing on a phonograph in the background, "la propiedad es un robo, la
propiedadesunrobo . . . ." Since itispartofalargerdreaminwhichhis

conservative family disappears, it can be seen as a desire to alter the fundamental

148

structure of existing society. As Paul Julian Smith citing the work of
Hocquenghem, and Deleuze and Guattari, has noted in his important work on
homosexuality in Spanish literature and cinema, the homosexual identity has been
employed as a means of subverting the bourgeois ideology of familial and
reproductive sexuality and male dominance. Specifically he discusses anal desire
and its potential to erase the division between public and private on which society
is based, "to lose control of the anus is to risk the loss of individual identity
because that control stakes out the boundary between self and other" (Laws of
Desire 57). Homosexuality poses a distinct challenge to the oedipal matmation of
the individual as Hocquenqhem points out: ”Homosexual desire challenges
anality-sublimation because it restores the desiring use the arms" (98), and he goes
on to say, "To reinvest the anus collectively and libidinally would involve a
proportional weakening of the great phallic signifier, which dominates us
constantly both in the small-scale hierarchies of the family and in the great social
hierarchies" (102). In Un hombre llamado Flor de Utofio the performance of the
protagonist's homosexual identity coincides with his radical political identity. His
undoing of the dictatorship patriarchy and the conservative capitalist interests that
are supportedbythosefatherswhorespectflrelawandtadifionisdemonsfiated
as much by his assassination attempt as by his refusal to accept his position in the
hierarchy by living up to his "name"—a direct affront to the patriarchy and an
attempt to open the individual to living his desire.

IV. Consuming Bodies: "Sexy" Comedies and the Liberalization of Desire

I49

While art-house cinema and homosexually-themed films had no
compunction about demonstrating the weakness and breakdown of the traditional
patriarchy, popular film struggled to accommodate changing social mores without
endangering heterosexist notions of masculinity. By moving toward an ideal of
self-indulgence and consumption, the male character moved dangerously close to
that which had been thought to be the realm of women. The problem became how
to justify adherence to the new consumer dictate without compromising one's
masculinity under the previous system of prohibition as depicted most vividly in
crusade cinema. Encouraging men to consume as promoted in the explosion of
television advertising and other media in the 19608 and 19705 implied a rapid
reversal of an age old prohibition against male self-indulgence and consumption--
as represented in earlier films of the dictatorship. In film after film of the so-
called "Sexy Spanish comedy" the solution to this dilemma seems to be a focus on
the consumption of female bodies as "obvious" assurance that the protagonists, no
matter what their interest in material goods and self-indulgence, are most
definitely heterosexual. The "destape" or uncovering of the nude body (almost
exclusively the female nude body) in the 19703 provided a comic way to present a
fimdamental shift in values—from a society of prohibition and the model of
masculinity based on it, to a society of consumption and "commanded enjoyment"
(to use Todd McGowan's expression), and the model of masculinity associated
with that. The incredible popularity of sexually-oriented films is evidenced by the
fact that in 1978 five out of the top 10 box office movie successes were sex-

themed (McNair 92). But while cinematic representations of homosexuality were

150

quite widely accepted, values in mainstream society did not so quickly follow
suit. Therefore, since homosexuality continued to be considered undesireable by
a vast portion of society, a distinction needed to be made between those
supposedly effeminate and self-indulgent men that male homosexuals were often
perceived to be, and the "macho ibérico" who, though raised on prohibition, now
needed to embrace consumpfion. In these films according to Hopewell, "the
Iberian male is horny" (81) and these films are filled with double entendres
designed to draw the audience into a knowing relationship with the apparently
highly (hetero)sexed protagonists.

The actors most associated with these generally low-budget sexy comedies
were Alfredo Landa, whose name lent itself to the movement "Landismo" or films
that portrayed this actor as the comedic sex-starved "typical" Spaniard, and two
other commedians who often paired up, Andres Pajares and Fernando Esteso. Of
theselwilldiscusshcreafigureinhoducedearlierinthediscussionofthe
Manolo Escobar film, Me has hecho perder eljuicio—Andres Pajares. As the
grasping and scheming side-kick of the more admirable Manolo, he introduces a
character that will become increasingly sexual, but never more sophisticated, as
sexual restrictions on Spanish films relax. The 1981 film by director Manuel
Ozores [Que gozada de divorcio! presents the typical Pajares role of the period.
He plays a fast-talking "regular guy," only moderately attractive and a bit
slovenly, but inexplicably able to seduce a series of attractive women—three
within the first 10 minutes ofthe film. As Alfredo Landa in No desearas a!

vecino del quinto, Pajares doubles as a gay fashion designer—affecting the

ISI

stereotypical mannerisms and voice expected by the general public and thus plays
with a homosexual identity. He quickly undoes any "taint" of homosexuality,
however, by heading to an Asian massage parlor where he fondles and grabs at
the women he encounters, including his estranged wife from whom he is seeking
a divorce under the new law. The film presents women's bodies in a highly
specularized fashion, displaying female nudes in quick succession and with the
exception of his wife, providing little or no character development of any of them. ~
The effect is to present them as objects for consumption—both by the protagonist
as well as by the spectator and thereby promote consumption as a totally
heterosexual activity. The male character’s masculinity is not compromised
despite underlying anxiety that is revealed through the double nature of the
protagonistwhoworksasagaymmbutuiestoasserthisheterosexuality
through his many female "conquests." The male viewer is eased into a subject
posifionthatisclearlycemeredonconsumpfion,bmbyitsassociafionwiththe
consumption of female bodies, it avoids drawing too close to what might have
been considered ”un-manly" behavior under the dictatorship which prized self-
renunciation rather than self-gratification.
V. Conclusion

Dramatic social change brought about by the abrupt shift fiom a society of
prohibition traditionally promoted under the dictatorship to a society of
commanded enjoyment which began in the 1960s and rose up powerfully in Spain
in the aftermath of the dictatorship, led to a crisis in masculine subject formation.

Economic changes dating back to the early 1960s dictatorship plan to stimulate

152

economic recovery through the promotion of consumerism, along with the
widespread appearance of electronic media with which to diffuse advertising,
promoted new models of behavior that contradicted the essence of the hegemonic
model as represented in early dictatorship film. From a clear promotion of
prohibition, self-renunciation and personal sacrifice, the message changed to
encourage individuals to indulge themselves and to consume as they pleased.

F llmlc representations of men fiorn the 1970s reflect the confusion that this
change effected in masculine subject formation with the result that male
characters are often seen as self-destructive, confused, violent or "an-manly" as
they struggle (and fail) to master their environments. This period reflects a
collective impulse to exorcise the Father and to throw ofi' the restrictions he
imposed. The consequences of this action continued to be felt throughout the
decade as cinema explored a variety of reactions to the loss of the hegemonic

masculinemodelofthepastaswellaspossibilitiesforthefirtme.

153

Chapter 4: The New Spain: Desire and the Commodification of the Spanish
Body
The dramatic upheaval that characterized Spanish politics and society in

the 19703afterthedeathofFrancowasaccompaniedbyanabtmdanceofwide-
ranging representations of masculinity in film. They run the gamut from those
damaged "ChildrenofFranco" representedintheartfihnsdirectedbyBorau,
Saura, Erice and others through the mainstream Tercera Via characters which
often embodied middle class concerns and values, to the flee-wheeling, sexually
"liberated" regular guys represented by the actors Afredo Landa, Andres Pajares,
FernandoEstesoandothers. 'l'heyalsoinchrdethesexuallymarginalizedand
often politically involved male figures in films by Eloy de la Iglesia, as well as the
male leadsinthebuddingpornography industry. Thisvarietyofmasculine
models bears witness to the state of flux in which Spanish society found itself in
thesecondhalfofthedecadeanddmingwhichnomasculinemodelcouldbesaid
to be clearly hegemonic. The contrast between cinematic production in this
ebullient, albeit short-lived period, and the more consistent output of the 19803 is
striking. Javier Heméndez Ruiz and Pablo Perez Rubio describe the movement
towardthehomogenizationoffilmploductionofSpaininthisperiodinthe
following way:

Vistacasi tresdécadasdespues, laproduccioncinematograficade

la Transicibn aparece como un cuerpo vivo, lma suerte de

primaverade cienflores inmediatamenteanterioralaentradaen

juego de un proceso dc homogeneizacibn——y homologacion con el

154

conjunto del celuloide liberal europeo—que no ha hecho sino
incrementarse hasta hoy [ . . . ] Peliculas que actualmente son
excepcionales por escapar de los margenes institucionalizados,
abundaban en aquel efimero periodo en virtud del particular e
irrepetible contexto que entonces se vivia en Espafia. (14)
After a brief chaotic period Spanish cinema, as Spanish society itself, strived for
consensus in the 1980s—politically as well as artistically--and masculine
representations reflected this change.

Two events from the early 1980s marked the definitive transition fi’om the
oldpoliticalregimetothenewandservehereasasortofpunctuationbetweena
rather brief period of political uncertainty after the fall of the dictatorship
(represented in the plurality ofmasculine models in the 1970s) and the
consolidation of a new order. These landmark events are the thwarted coup
attempt by Lieutenant Coronel Antonio Tejero who on February 23, 1981 held the
Congress of Deputies hostage at gunpoint as the Spanish public held its breath
andwatched; andthevictoryofthe SocialistParty (PSOE)inthe 1982 general
elections. The early 19808 marked a time of crisis and great change in the
Spanishfilmindustryaswell. Duetoagenerallyprecariouseconomicsiuration
(according to Hopewell by 1983 2.2 million, or 17.7%, of Spaniards were
jobless), major incursions of television into Spanish households, the afierefl'ects
of a flood of previously banned foreign films, and a lack of protection of the
domestic film industry afier the UCD (Unidn de Centro Democrético) government

abolished distribution quotas in 1977, cinema attendance was down significantly

155

fiom earlier years. Despite the fact that per capita film attendance was still
relatively high in comparison with other European countries, Spanish film-going
suffered a sharp decline: "The number of total spectators who attended movies in
Spain decreased from 331 million in 1970 to 101 million in 1985 and by 1985
Spanish films held only 17.5% of the diminishing home market, as opposed to
30% in 1970" (Kinder, "Pleasure" 33). The crisis in the industry led to an
increase in the production of low-budget films, especially "sofi core"
pornography. The home market itself was increasingly dominated by sexual-
themed films and the so-called cinemas "S" reached 40% of the total number of
cinemas in 1982 (T renzado Romero). The pornography market continued to
grow and increase in explicitness and 1984 saw the creation of ”Salas X" or
cinemas which were exclusively dedicated to showing hard-core pornography.
The Spanishfilmindustrywasinastateofdisrepairandconsideredtobeinneed
of renovation if it was to survive.

This chapter will examine the redirection of the floundering industry and
trends in masculine representation by analyzing films released in Spain from 1982
through 1992. Three events in 1992 marked Spain's firll integration into the
international commrmity: Madrid’s designation as a European capital of culture,
the Barcelona Olympics, the World's Fair in Seville and the signing of the
Maastricht Treaty which changed the European Community into the European
Union, an act that signaled Spain's full participation in the Emopean political and
economic cormnunity and which took effect in the following year. The first three

sections deal with aspects of the consolidation of desire and its satisfaction as the

156

 

organizing principle in 19803 Spanish society, while the fourth reveals the
traumatic "leftovers" that cannot be digested and neatly incorporated into the
glossy vision of a progressive and open Spain. In general the films of the early
19805 avoid engaging in explicit debate about social and political problems of the
day in favor of stylistically sleek, large productions that seek to "re-vision"
Spanishhistoryandpackage it in suchawaythattheexperiences oftraumaand
lack are eliminated. Rather than prohibition or limitation we see films that at least
visually, represent plenitude. It is a period generally dominated by consensus and
the satisfaction of desires, not respect for the hierarchy. Section one contains an
expanded discussion of the repackaging of Spanish history as a way of
disavowing trauma through historical fetishism in the early 19808. The films
Volver a enrpezw (Garci, 1982), Los santos inocentes (Camus, 1984), T iempo de
silencio (Aranda, 1986), Las bicicletas son para el verano (Chévarri, 1983) and
La vaquilla (Berlanga, 1985) are discussed regarding the mechanisms used to
normalize a universalizing vision of Spanish history and masculinity. The
creation ofa uniformly polished surface in the many historical and literary films
released during this period serves to equalize events of the past, and their visual
plenimdestandsintomaskthepresenceofn'amna—animportantstepinthe
process of building consensus and allowing economic progress. Masculinity in
these fihns is understood to serve the needs of historical verisimilitude or the plot
of some earlier work, and like the politics contained in them, appears to smge up

outofaneutralspaceztheoriginaltextorpasthistoricalmoment. Theytendto

157

-..l '7“ IL

 

‘12

promote prosperity and an international masculine model while vilifying or
burlesquing provincialisrn and poverty.

In section two, I will consider how the films of Pedro Almodévar came to
represent the ethos of this period that unapologetically embraced "lack" and
opened the individual subject to desire—a phenomenon that is especially
important given the historical development of masculinity fiom highly self-
sufficient to fimdamentally desirous. The section will focus on representations of
masculinity in Laberinto de pasiones (1982) and La ley del deseo (1987) and
these films' protagonists' relation to desire and lack.

The third section examines how the "repackaging" of the Spanish nation
led to a commodification of desire that privileged pleasure above all and was
often accompanied by a reconsolidation of heterosexual masculine power
especially in the films of the late 19805 and early 1990s, though now it is a power
based not in the hierarchy and prohibition as was seen in the dictatorship, but
rather around the individual and his search for pleasure and personal satisfaction.
In films like Amantes (Aranda, 1991) and Belle epoque (Trueba, 1992) the
interplay between love and sex highlights the importance of the sexual
gratification of the individual which minors the consumerist mentality of the
time, while justification of the pursuit of pleasure and personal advancement
become signifiers for a modern, global Spanish identity replacing those models
related to the society of prohibition under Franco now considered antiquated by
the Transition period. Cristina Moreiras Menor described this transformation in

the following way:

158

El intento masivo que viven los espafioles de cancelar un pasado
que los sitr'ra en una posicién de inferioridad respecto al resto del
mundo se constituye como una necesidad primordial de ir en busca
de nuevas sefias de identidad que den entrada y permitan un
proceso de identificacién no demasiado doloroso ni demasiado
problematico [ . . . ] la identidad total con el mundo del consurno y
el espectaculo los desidentifica por y para siempre con ese pasado
de represién, silencio, homogeneidad al que habian estado
sometidos durante las ultimas décadas. (75)

Though male figures take on a decidedly ”softened" appearance, they remain the
focus and serve as sympathetic models for an identification that increasingly
elevates the individual and diminishes the importance of the collective. The films
are often concerned primarily with the removal of obstacles to the individual's
personal satisfaction, including the viewer's who is now invited to appropriate
both male and female bodies as objects of visual consumption.

Finally, part four will speculate on the implications of several films that
represent the undigestible "real" in the Lacanian sense that threatens to disrupt the
smooth functioning of Spain's "miraculous” Transition narrative and shift to
modern European nation. This surging up of that which is dark, mysterious,
unsettlingandunknowableintlre livesofmaleprotagonistswhoaretraumatized
and/or held captive by events of the past calls to mind the ghosts discussed by Jo
Labanyi in her article "History or Harmtology; or, Wlmt Does One Do with the

Ghosts of the Past?" who, following Jacques Derrida, notes that ghostly

159

 

appearances in film and fiction are the traces ofthose who were not allowed to
leaveatrace—thosewhowere silencedorignoredsothatthefictionalized
narrative could be told as truth They are the leftovers of a narrative process that
was too neat, orderly and contrived to encompass the actual experience ofmany
who had lived through the horrors of war and the dictatorship only to discover
that society now seemed inclined to "let by-gones be by-gones" and to leave the
past dead and buried——a phenomenon that is overturned as violent deeds from the
pastresurfacetohamrtthepresent. BasquefilmssuchasLamrtedeMilceI
(Uribe 1984) which continued to focus on the long-standing practice of violence
ofthestateupontheindividual,aswellashorrorfilmslike Traselcris'tal
(V illaronga 1985) and detective films like Beltenebros (Miro 1991) reveal the
fissmesmdelfipsesmtheprocessofbufldingpofifiealandsocialconsemover
Spain's traumatic and divisive past.
I. Re-viaioning the Past: Consensus Politics and Masculinity

The Spanish Socialist Party (PSOE), perhaps more than the dictatorship,
recognized the value of cinema in the formation and consolidation of support for
the new political order and the image of a new Spain abroad. This was evidenced
bythepowerthatwasenuustedtoPflarMiro,whoin1982wasnamedDirectora
General de Cinematografia; and by the public money that was invested into
specific projects deemed to be of value. During the four years that she occupied
theposLthenumberoffilmsproducedwasreducedtoathirdofwhatithadbeen,
andtheso-calledMiroIawwasenacted. Thislawestablishedacontroversial

system of advanced subsidies that went to films as a percentage of anticipated box

160

office returns and tended to encourage big-budget productions of high artistic
merit. Filmsthatbenefittedfiomthislawwereofienreferredto(sometimes
disparagingly) as "cine de calidad" or quality cinema. The measure led to the
homogenimtion of film production and was accused of favoring those films
whose "look" was more European and less idiosyncratic: "lo cierto es que la
legislacion socialista de los afios 80 [ . . . ] tuvo rmos resultados claros: se eclipso
casi por completo e1 cine que no se adecuaba a los criterios del cine de arte 0 de

qualité" (T renzado Romero 36). Spanish society and history were being

 

”packag " in such a way as to present the cormtry as a modern European nation
andfutm'ememberofthe EmopeanCommunity. Therewasanoverall reducfion
in the variety of productions as Trenzado Romero explains, "[la] reduccién del
nr'rmero de peliculas espafiolas y la practice desaparicion de las peliculas de
géneros comerciales populares [comedia gruesa, accidn, erotismo] hizo que los
nuevosfilmssde laépocaposterioralafiansiciénpoliticaurvieranquesatisfacer
simultaneamente diversos gustos del nuevo pr'rblico urbano dc clase media" (32).
Ironically, given the opportunity presented by the new democracy for greater
exploration and fi'eedom of artistic expression, films of the 19808 show an
improved technical quality but a srn'prising lack of creative or innovative use of
the medium. Jose Luis Borau criticized the period's filmmaking at the inaugural
addreesoftheNinthCongress ofthe AssociationofFilmHistorimsheldin
Valencia in 2001: "su escaso afan por encontrar nuevas f6rmulas expresivas, su
desinteres por romper moldes propios o ajenos. A la postre, su docilidad creativa"

(Lozano Aguilar 29), a sentiment echoed by others at the conference.

161

It was a period marked by big-budget literary adaptations and period
historical films with rather uniformly polished sm'faces and high production
values—large projects that often bombed at the box office because they did not
connect with the public (Hopewell 240). Many of these films came into being not
as an outgrowth of public taste, but of an administrative desire to develop a
certainkindofcinema. TheMiréLawfilmscanbeseenasatool forrefashioning
the Spanish identity and have been described as "exercising a nostalgic
depoliticisation of historical memory, reflecting and promoting consensus politics
of 19808 Spain" (Monterde 89). Political consensus of the period was that Spain's
economic advancement was of utmost concern, and the administration's eye was
always fixed on entry into the European Union. As Hernandez Ruiz and Pérez
Rubio state, "Y con la reforma triunfaba, también el consenso: una palabra
convertida en totem (y en ocasiones, lugar comr'rn) que designaba la 'reforma
pactada' entre diferentes sectores ideolégicos para integrar el legado del
fianquismo en la incipiente democracia que proyectaba un nuevo modelo de
Estado" (22). Thus Spanish film of the 19808 packaged history and itself for
consumption by the international commrmity at a time when the fledgling
government was seeking international integration. Desire itselfbecame
legitimized as a motivator for male characters' actions, and often heterosexual
masculinity was ultimately repositioned for continued dominance albeit in an
apparently softened form that now centered on a more international or less

”Spanish” model and was increasingly oriented toward pleasure and the right of

162

the individual to have it—a step toward the consolidation of the "society of
commanded enjoyment" as described by Todd McGowan.

Spanish film in the early 19808 was concerned with creating a collective
historyandaconsensusaboutthedivisivepast. AsTrenzado Romero reminds us,
behind the heterogeneous political and cultural practices of the decade lay a
preoccupation with the Spanish identity (31), and Triana-Toribio observes: ”fiom
1982 the democratic national cinema concentrated above all on the reconstruction,
relocation and representation of the past" (1 15). Films favored with Miro Law
funding tended to represent Spanish history with resignation in a blameless or
uncontroversial way. Theytookastheirsubjectmatterliteraryworksofthe
recent past and seemed. to avoid the purposefully controversial stances that had
been seen in such films fiom the 19708 as La prima Angélica, El diputado,

F urtivos and Camada negra. Films such as Volver a empezar, Las bicicletas son
para el verano, Los santos inocentes, T iempo de silencio and La vaqru'lla tended
to avoid exploring political questions, but rather focused in a more general way on
the effects that adversity had on the (usually male) individual. Though these films
may deal with difficult and often traumatic events, they do so with a comforting
conservativeness of technique that includes traditional modes of characterization,
generally linear narratives, filmic realism, humor and high production values.

The "package" itself served as the viewer's defense against the representation of
the traumatic events represented within it. Whereas many films ofthe 19708 left
gaps, incongruities, ellipses and trarnnatic reminders in plot (La prima Angélica,

Arrebato), technique (lack of "shot-reverse-shot" in El desemaruo, Arrebato) md

163

budget ("sexy" comedies), films fiom the early 19808 tended to mitigate and
reducetheanxietyproducedinthespectator. A8Carlosflerederoobserves,
"Contra todo lo que hubiera podido pensarse, la consolidacion de la democracia
no ha producido un cine mas vivo, despierto, pluralista o peleon, sino que ha
generado una produceién conservadora, llena de guifios reconocibles, y donde la
libertaddeflamaralascosasporsunombreapenashasidoutilizadodemanera
productiva" (qtd. in Trenzado Romero 324). Cinema of this period was not
designed to incite, but rather to diffuse tensions as the "dos Espafias" were being
melded into one. None of the films analyzed here tackled the "taboo” subjects
according to Trenzado Romero, "no cuestionar el sistema socioeconomico, no
pedir responsabilidades por hechos anteriores al pacto, y no lanzarse a la polémica
Monarquia/Republica" (89), nor did they break ground stylistically or technically
and thus can be considered politically conservative in nature.

Miro era films did not generally question directly the political or social
status of Spain in the present, but rather often expressed a sort of bittersweet
nostalgiamixed withasenseofloss forthatwhichcouldneverberegained—
one's innocence, one's youth and oftentimes, a gender system with clearly
delineateddifl‘erencesbetweenmenandwomen. Twosuccessfulfilmsfiomthe
early 19808 that take as their primary theme the loss ofchildhood innocence due
to the events of the Civil War are Volver a empezar and La: bicicletas son para el
verano. Garcf's Volver a empezar represents an older man, Antonio, who after
many yearsofexileintheUnited States,comesbackto Spaintorevisittheplaces

and people he loved before he was sent to a concentration camp in 1938, during

164

the war. He reflects on what his life has been, and not been, dming the
intervening years, andthenretmnstohis comfortable situationasaprofessoratan
American university—all the while knowing he has only a few months to live.
Hopewell comments on this thematic trend in the concerns of Spanish directors in
post-dictatorship cinema who retmned to the post-war period for their subject
matter: Their concrete complaints also testify to the less visible legacy of the
dictatorship: 3 Wed desire for regeneration, a continued sense of loss of
liberty, an inveterate feeling of solitude" (180). While it is true that Antonio's
youth has been "lost” and he is terminally ill (though there are no visible signs of
this except for the pills he regularly takes), the viewer observes and, due to
Antonio's centrality to the plot and point of view, is induced to identify with a
difinguishedoldergenflemanwhohasprosperedsinceflrewaflasevidemedby
his secure post at an American university and his large home and domestic help),
andhasgainedinternafionalmcognifionasarenfltofwiMngtheNobelprizefm
literature. A marked contrast is made between the provincial and stereotypically
servile hotel manager, Gervasio, who in the old style of hegemonic masculinity as
discussed in films like Los riltimos de Filipinas, bombards Antonio with "typical"
Spanish gifts such as Tic Pepe sherry and oranges. Like the besieged captain in
that older film who recklessly sends sherry and cigars to his enemies in a show of
bravado, Gervasio impractically fills Antonio's room with flowers and other gifts
in order to impress him with Spanish graciousness. In contrast to the quiet dignity
and apparent humility ofthe internationalized protagonist, Gervasio brags, boasts

anddemonsuatesthosequafifiestypicallyatuihnedmflnSpaushprovimial—an

165

 

 

 

exaggeratedly servile attitude with social superiors, ignorance and an inflated
sense of self-importance. He officiously and capriciously orders his employees
about while playing the sycophant to his urbane and ironical guest. The manager
is clearly set up as a figure of ridicule, presented as a familiar stereotype and
designed to elicit a knowing sense of recognition—but not identification—on the
partofthe spectator. Heispresentedasanoutdatedandrmdesirablemasculine
model—at once recognizable but clearly obsolete in his excessive observance of
the social hierarchy and reckless generosity. A younger and more handsome (i.e.
desirable) male employee at the hotel consistently shows disregard for the
hierarchy and traditional masculinity's self-sufficiency through his casual attitude
with Antonio, smoking (pursuing pleasure) and taking money fiom this important
guest. Hispresencefirrtherhighlightstheanachronisticnatureofhisboss'
behavior.

Atnopointinthefilmdoestheprotagonistorany othercharacterdirectly
criticize the war or the political order, either past or contemporary. Rather, the
nature of Antonio's trauma is universalized as the loss of the true love of one's
youth,anditislefttotheindividualtomakesenseofpasteventsasbesthecan—
andtoconsolehimselfwithsuccessinthepresentmoment. Thefactthatthisfilm
won prizes in New York, Montreal and Madrid, as well as winning the 1983
Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film demonstrates its wide appeal.
Though it is understood that the situation represented is tragic, the pain is
expressedasagentle sadness, notacauseforrecriminationorrebellion. To

furmer comfort the viewer, the film is filled with sensuous images of Spain's

166

northern beaches and countryside observed in lingering long takes that are
understood to represent the loving gaze ofthe protagonist. It is shown in such a
way as to promote the commonality of appreciation for Spain's natural and
apparently unspoiled beauty. The musical score of the film consists of the gentle
and familiar Pachelbel's Canon in D which recurs at regular intervals.
Tlnoughout, its soothing chords are reminiscent of a lullaby—a tranquil sound
that both opens and closes the film, allowing the triumph of sentimentality over
historical memory. Thus calmed, the viewer is left perhaps with a feeling of
melancholy or regret, but clearly not anger or a compelling sense of injustice over
events of Spain's history.

Las bicicletas son para el verano, a film adaptation of a play by Fernando
Feman Gomez, examines the effects of the Civil War on a young man's life as
well, but in this case rather than centering on an old man who remembers his past,
thisfilmtracesthelifeoftheyoungmanwhileeventsofthewararegoing on. As
in Volver a empezar, a youthful romance is thwarted by the exigencies of the war
which thrusts responsibility upon the flesh-faced youngster (Diego Gabino). The
bicycle is a symbol of that which has been lost—a young man's romantic
innocence—duringthewar. Barlyinthefilmtheprotagonistbegshisfaflrertobuy
himabicyclesothathecanaccompanythegirlhe likesonridesinthepark. His
father refuses due to his son's poor grades, but later tells him he is to receive one
to perform his new job as a messenger—an occupation he must now follow
instead of continuing his studies. The yormg girl becomes unimportant as hunger

and the practical necessities of life supersede poetry and romance, thus equating

167

the tragedy of war not with suffering and death, but rather with the sacrifice of
one's pleasure and romance.

Unlike films of the 19708 in which the father figure was almost wholly
absentorcorrupt, herewe seeavery involved fatherwho seems across-over
figure between the "father of prohibition" and the "anal father of enjoyment".
Thoughhedoesdenyhis sonthebicycle,heisalsoseentobequiteliberal inhis
attitudes about sex as was the father in Belle epoque. He approves of his 1

daughter's desire to go into the theater despite the ”undesirables" with whom she

 

might come into contact. When his wife becomes upset about her son's sexual

F" n."- _r,_ _-

dalliance with the maid, the father defends it saying: "Es natural," and "Estamos
aquf para gozar." He is seen to be wise, strong and philosophical—cluracteristics
notseensincethefaflrerfigmesofflredictatorship,brfinowalsohmnomus, fim-
loving and liberal in his attitudes about sexuality—social mores that reflect those
of the Transition and which are consonant with a liberal consumerist society.

Two other films that are stylistically very similar to each other and which
typify Miro Law recipients in their style, content and literary origin are Los santos
inocentes and Tiempo de silencio. As seen in Volver a empezar, these films avoid
any explicit criticism of the dictatorship or any particular political policy. Rather,
they set up a dichotomy between rich and poor, antiquated and modern. In Los
santos inocentes Mario Camus adapts to the screen the highly successful novel of
the same name by Miguel Delibes. The film centers on the lives of a poor family
servingonanestateinExtremadrnadmingthepostwarFrancoyears. Seen

through four flash-backs, it portrays the inequalities and injustices of the feudal

168

system by exposing the hypocrisy and abuse involved in the concept of noblesse
oblige. ”Pepe e1 Bm'o" (Alfiedo Landa) faithfully serves the "sefiorito" Ivan as his
assistant in bird hunting, while his wife, son, daughter and mentally handicapped
brother-in-law toil on the estate. The "Nina-chica", the severely handicapped
youngest daughter, screams throughout the film as if to heighten the horror of
their poverty. In this film there are no positive models of masculinity with the
possible exception of the son, Quirce, who serves loosely as the narrative focal
point ofthe movie, but who is unable to do more than withdraw fiom this world
andhope forabetterfutureinMadrid. Thesonsofthe Marquesaprovetobe
cruel, selfish and unfeeling. Pepe reveals the same extreme level of servility as
Gervasio in Volver a empezar though he is not seen as ridiculous, but rather as a
patheficremainderfiomaconuptandanfiquatedsystemthatisseentoprevent
the individual fiom reaching his or her potential. Like the film previously
discussed, Los santos inocentes employs a highly aestheticized vision of poverty
and degradation. It portrays the barrenness and difficulty of this family's
existence through a visually rich and at times, extremely picturesque vision of the
countryside. Muted sepia tones are employed to reflect the poverty of the
environment,butthey alsobeautifirlly highlightthesrn'facesofthewallsofthe
family's shack, filmed in chiaroscrno as light cast by candle or oil lamp created
dramaticshadowingandhighlightingefi‘ects. Theresultisthatwhilethefamily's
poverty and suffering are apparent, the viewer is distanced from the sordidness of
itbythecinematography. Insteadofadirectexperienceoftheuglinessofthe

characters' lives, the viewer is drawn into an identification with the Marquesa's

169

 

daughter whose beautiful but horrified face upon briefly seeing the "Nifia-chica"
(the viewer is spared the supposedly horrendous sight) reflects the viewer's own
reaction—shock, and relief that this world is not hers. Rather than promote any
particular vision of masculinity, this film presents all the traditional models in the
feudal system as negative and implies that the only hope for the yormg son is
escapetothe city andthe search forabetterlifethere.

A similar dichotomy is set up in Tiempo de silencio, which was based on
the novel by Luis Martin-Santos, in which a doctor/researcher, Pedro (Imanol
Arias), is drawn into the sordid world of the chabolas, or slums, outside Madrid in
the 19408. He goestheretoobtainguineapigsthathavebeenstolenfiomthelab
by his assistant, Amador, and bred by Muecas, a relative of Amador. There he
makes the acquaintance of Muecas' wife and daughters and awakens feelings of
envy and jealousy in "E1 Cartucho," the would-be boyfiiend of Muecas' daughter
Florita. One night, after an evening of carousing with his clearly well-off fiiend
Matias, Pedro is called to the chabola to attend to Florita, upon whom her father
has performed a botched abortion ofhis own child, the product oftheir imestuous
union. Pedro is blamed for the death of the girl and it is only through the
persistence of his fiance, Dorita, and the intercession of Muecas' wife at the police
station that he is finally cleared. Meanwhile, El Cartucho becomes enraged and
outcfrevengestabsandkillsDorita. ThefinalscenehasPedrobackinhis
laboratory pondering the fate of his girlfriend. A long closeup of his face is
accompanied by a fairly extensive voice-over monologue of himself considering

the reaction to the two women's death. His discussion is ostensibly about the

170

 

 

aftermath of the death of the women, but given the film's release in 1986 it sounds
asifitcould also applytotheaftermathoftheendofthedictatorship, "Porquéno
puedo separar las muertes de las dos muj eres? Tanta autopsia para que si no ven
mda. Estamoseneltiempodelaanastesia. Esagradableapesardeestar
castrado tomar e1 aire y el sol." Reference to the two deaths and to the futility of
goingbacktotrytoexplainthem seemsareferencetotheCivil Warandthe
supposed pointlessness of investigating the crimes that, like the deaths of the
women, have ocurred and cannot be undone. The "castrated" male figure is aware
thathehassufferedaloss,butfeelsthatitisuselesstotrytoredressacrime
already committed. Like a society struggling to achieve consensus over events of
the past, Pedro decides to move forward, rejecting further analysis of his loss—a
necessary step in the consolidation of the new political order, "uno de los
cimientos del consenso politico en tomo al que se contruyo la transieién fue el
olvido de las responsabilidades historicas por la Guerra Civil y la represi6n
fianquista" (Trenzado Romero 307). Thus the film's conclusion, though painful,
seemstoadvocateacceptanceandassimilafionofpainfideventsratherthan

' investigation into their causes. Further, it is through learning to take pleasure in
life that the painful events can be forgotten.

As in Volver a empezar the loss of love stands in for any more explicit
political commentary. The grand villain ofthis film seems to be poverty itself
rather than the political or economic system that may have produced it. Many of
thechaboladwellersseemdeeplyconuptandthreateninglike Muecaswhois

capable offathering achild by hisowndaughter, attemptingto abort itand finally

171

shifting blame onto the one man who tried to help; or E1 Cartucho who is taunted
by his hag-like mother for supposedly being cuckolded, and then urged by her to
seek revenge against the doctor. Pedro, the obvious point of identification in this
film,alongwithhisfriendMatiasaretheonly fairlyhonestandhonorablemale
characters in this film. Pedro is lied to and manipulated by his assistant Amador
(who makes a profit on black market trade in lab animals), his landlady (who
ananges to tempt him into a relationship with her granddaughter), and Muecas
(whoaccuseshimofcausinghisdaughtel’sdeath),butstillhetriestorelievethe
suffering of others. Matias who is shown to be quite eccentric, spouting poetry
and naming an obsessive relationship with a prostitute who looks exactly like his
mother (the two are played by the same actress), proves to be a dedicated fiiend in
Pedro's time of need. Through his fleshiness of body and wonton pursuit of
pleasure, Matias could be characterized as feminine and as such, not an obviously
desirable male model. However, he does hide Pedro in a house of prostitutes
while attempting to clear his name and is undoubtedly preferable to the poor
outcasts who model more traditional and patriarchal ways of behaving. Thus evil
is clearly linked with the poverty that supposedly leads to the degradation and
con'uption of the individual. Pedro's retmn to work despite his feelings of
confusion and 1088 indicate a direction for the spectator. It is as if to propose that,
given the futility of investigating the remains of the past, one must move forward
and take what pleasure one can. One must forget that which cannot be changed,
andrmheraprn'eciatewhatonehagalwaysworkingtoavoidtheultimate

misfortune which is poverty. Again, as in Volver a empezar which concludes

172

 

 

 

with Antonio sitting at his writing table in the sun, it is a gentle coda to a

traumatic story, an assimilation of painful events.

 

La vaquilla, one of the most widely successfill but controversial films in
Spain from the 19808 by perennially popular director Luis Berlanga, goes even
further toward promoting consensus in the period. Once again in collaboration
with screenwriter Rafael Azcona, Berlanga creates a choral film with a large cast
including two of the most famous actors of the Transition, Alfredo Landa as a
sergeant and Jose Sacristan as his lieutenant on the Republican side. Set during
the Civil War, it represents life in the trenches during a relatively calm period of
theconflict. Whentherebel foreesannounceapartyoveraloudspeakeraspartof
a plan to weaken Republican resolve, several soldiers decide to steal the young
bull prepared for the celebration and thus undermine the event. Wearing fake
rebel rmiforms assembled by the flamboyantly gay tailor, they cross over to the
othersideonlytoburnbletheirwaythroughtheplanwiththeendresultbeingthat
thcbullescapestodieanatmaldeathandiseatenbyvulturesintheend. This
filmgoestogleatlengthstoerasedifi'erencesbetweenmenondretwosidesof
the conflict. As always, Berlanga employs humor and a masterful sense of
regiomlisms and dialogue to represent the foibles of his characters.

Through a blending of the motives and desires of the two sides, he undoes
thecausesforthewarandattemptstoprovethatall menarefimdamentallythe
same—interestedinsmoking, goodfoodandsex—andthateachsidehasmoreto
gainthroughcommercewiththeotherthanthrough fighting. Alfi'edo Landa's

characterestablishesthebasicpremiseofthefilm—thatthemenaremore

173

interestedinpleasurethaninideology—earlyinthefilmwhenhetriestosuppress
reports of a dance being held at the celebration. He fears that if they hear about it
the soldiers "8e ponen cachondos" (will get sexually aroused) and will forget
aboutthewar. Thelackofdifi‘erencebetweenthetwosidesispointedout
repeatedly. In one instance, representatives from each side come together to
exchange tobacco for smoking paper—a mutually beneficial trade that has
apparently been going on for some time. Another soldier, shocked by the practice
remarks, ”Pelo coho, Lno sabes que hay dos Espafias?" The implication is
obvious—if this needs to be pointed out then it must not be a very compelling
u'mhinthehvesoftheseindividualswhoaremoreinterestedinhavingagood
smoke than in any particular ideology. The two soldiers involved in the exchange
discoverthateachhasagidfiiendontheofllersideandtheydiscussmakingan
exchange so each can visit his beloved—a parallelism that further erases the
boundariesbetweenthetwo. Thefilmrepresentsnoactualfighting,norany
explicit politics and instead shows both sides as interested in the same activities.
InonescenetheRepublican infiluatorsaresrn'prisedataswimmingholebyrebel
forces who jump in with them. Alfredo Landa's character remarks on the lack of
difference between them in their naked and playful state, ”iAqui en pelotas ni
enemigosninadal" Eventsandobservancessuchastheseaboundinthe film
whichseemstotakepainstoerasedifl'erencesbetweenthetwosides.
Republicans mix with rebels, the lieutenant mixes casually with his men and all
areshowntobeequal ”enpelotas"orintheirskin. Thefilmevengoessofarasto

showflrefieluenanfsflaccidpenisashejumpsintothewater—aspecificemsme

174

 

of the mystique of the power of the phallus as explained by Peter Lehman. As he
indicates in Running Scared: Masculinity and the Representation of the Male
Body the maintenance of phallic power depends on keeping the penis hidden.
Thus, by exposing the penis of the highest-ranking officer present, Berlanga
seems to be demystifying male power and the hierarchy, and to be reinforcing the

Transition's consumerist message—the pursuit of pleasme rather than submission

 

to any hierarchy or ideology.
II. El Deseo S. A.

The great exception to the homogenizing trend of the 19808 in terms of

 

thematic and cinematic originality (though not in terms ofpackaging and the
elevation of desire) is, of comse, Pedro Almodovar. This self-trained, ex-
Telefdnica employee directed his first widely-seen feature-length film Pepi, Luci,
Born y otras chicas del montén (1980) on a shoestring budget, using fiiends in
theactingrolesandinterruptingshootingwhenfundsranshort. Atatimewhen
Spanish cinema was experiencing its most serious economic crisis, Almodévar's
early low-budget films achieved at least modest success both at home and abroad.
Though a receiver of Miro Law funds in several of his early films, Almodévar
formed his own production company, El Deseo S. A. in 1987, a step that further
ensured his artistic independence and financial success. Though highly
innovativeinstyleandcontenLAlmodévar’sfilmscanbesaidtoplomotea
certain version of consensus politics in and of themselves. His large ensemble
casts run the gamut of"types"-—homosexual, bisexual, transsexual, heterosexual,

old, yormg, drug-addicts, nuns, police, lawyers, etc—a cast of characters who as

175

Marsha Kinder observes, "refirse to be ghettoized into divisive subcultures
because they are figured as part of the 'new Spanish mentality—a fast-paced
revolt that relentlessly pursues pleasure rather than power, and a post-modem
erasure of all repressive boundaries and taboos associated with Spain's medieval,
fascist, and modernist heritage" (Pleasure 34). The trend that was inaugurated in
thelate 19608and 19708—thatofthe expressionofdesireandits satisfaction
rather than hierarchical obedience—reaches its culmination in the work of
Almoddvar who elevates desire to the status of primary defining characteristic of
all human beings. His work seeks not to exclude or to reorganize the hierarchy,
but rather to recreate a society in which the hierarchy is inelevant. As Rob Stone
expresses it, Almodovar's aim is "not to antagonize authorities, but to ask them to
join his party" (126).

His males do not seek the sort of dominance or self-mastery that Foucault
observed to be positive masculine qualities in Ancient Greece and which have
been noted here to conespond to the hegemonic model under the dictatorship.
Rather, in their self-abandon and pursuit of pleasure, Almoddvar's male
protagonists correspond more closely to the opposite of the previous ideal. As
Foucault states regarding Ancient Greece, ”For a man, excess and passivity were
the two main forms of immorality in the practice of aphrodesia" (47), and the self-
indulgent man was considered inferior in moral quality. These values were
clearly adopted by the early Francoist dictatorship and reached their clearest
expressionincrusadecinemaasseeninchaptertwo. ThusAlmodovar'smen

oftenrepresenttheexactoppositeofthehegemonicmodelofthepast: seeking

176

pleasure unapologetically and to an extreme, even if it ends in death as it does in
La ley del deseo and Matador. Rather than showing obedience, self-restraint, or
respect for prohibition and societal norms, Almodovar's characters seek pleasure
withabandonandbreakeverytabooinitspm'suit. Itisamasculinitythat
embraces "lack" as a liberating principle and is not afiaid to say, as Antonio
Banderas' character does in La ley del deseo, "Fuck me"-indicating an acceptance l
of the passive role, long considered the domain of women. Almodovar has been

quotedmanytimesassayingthathemakesfilmsasifthedictatorshiphadnever

 

existed which, though clearly an impossibility, can be seen as an attempt to L
consciously throw ofl the mantle of prohibition which is the legacy of the
dictatorship and of hegemonic masculinity as it has been handed down to him.
Again, inthe wordsofKindercommentingonLaberintodepasioms, "The
tortuously complex plot follows young Madrilefios trying to escape the crippling
influences of repressive fathers in order to pursue their own pleasme" (Pleasure
34) and can therefore be seen as the antithesis of the hierarchy and the old order
tmder the "father of prohibition". Almodovar himself has commented on this
resistance to restrictions of any kind: "Si existe un tema coml’rn en mis peliculas
es una lucha por la absolute libertad individual llevada al extremo" (T renzado
Romero 322-3). Included in this concept of individual liberty is the right to put
on and take off any gender identification at will.

Almodovar's dramatic casting off of prohibition can be seen as part of a
processofaradicalm—visionhgofsexualhymdthebodythatwasmkingplacem

this commodity culture. While many considered the liberation of the body and

177

the liberalization of sexual desire to be signs of freedom, it is important to
remember, asFoucaultpoints out,thatthequestionisnotwhetherapeopleis
repressed in terms of sexual behavior, but rather how the discourses of sexuality
work. In the aftermath of the dictatorship, liberal sexuality was promoted as a
sign of modernization in Spain. Foucault understands that sexuality is an

especially dense transfer point for relations of power and that power generally

 

exertsaninfluenceinthisarea. Thisinfluencecanbeobservedinfilmic
representations of sex through its prohibition in the dictatorship and its promotion

in its aftermath: "Sex is placed by power in a binary system: licit and illicit,

 

permitted and forbidden" (84). Capitalism and the resultant consmner culture
produced sexuality as a product to be sought and consumed in conformity with a
larger ethos of liberalism. David Garland discusses this movement in Spain
during the Transition and quotes Stephen Heath in The Sexual Fix to describe the
Spanish situation after Franco, "The much-valmted 'liberation' of sexuality, orn'
triumphant emergence fiom the 'dark ages' is thus not a liberation but a myth, an
ideology,thedefinitionofanewmodeofconformitythatcanbetmderstood,
moreover, in relation to the capitalist system, the production of commodity

'sexuality'" (95), and Garland argues that sexuality in contemporary Western

 

society has been constructed to conform to and perpetuate consumer capitalism.
Spanish feminist pioneer Lidia Falcén also noted the relation between sexuality
and the commodity: ”La explosion sexual vivida en Espana en los r'rltimos
fiernposlmhechocreeralagemequeelsexoesalgeen-si,sepmadodetodoono

contexto [ . . . ] [una] relacién cosificada" (138). Thus, the liberation ofsexual

178

desires becomes part of an overall zeitgeist that promotes pleasure-seeking and
consumptioningcneralasthedutyofthecitizenryafterFranco. AsMarsha
Kinder states, ”Pleasure is the 'new Spanish morality' in the 808" (qtd. in Smith
203). Changes in legislation such as the rescinding in 1978 of the Ley de la
Peligrosidad Social which had outlawed homosexuality, and the adoption of the
Ley de Divorcio in 1981, along with general support provided to the sexually
liberated and culturally modern "Movida" by President Felipe GonzAlez and
Madrid mayor Enrique Tiemo Galvan and others, promoted a radical refiguring of
sexual mores in the 19708 and 19808 in Spain.

Liberal sexuality became very closely linked to the modernization of
Spain and it exerted a force upon the individual as is seen in the following quote
by Movida icon and ”chica Almodovar" Carmen Mama: ”Do I want sex, or don't
I? If I don't, does that mean I am not moderna? Am I political or aren't 1? Right
or left?” (qtd. in Tremlett 198). The individual was now confionted with a new
social and even political pressure—that of using one's body in conformity with
the reigning ethics ofthe day which cast an active sexuality in a positive light.
Pleasure seeking in sexuality was part ofa broader social, and perhaps more
importantly, economic trend. Dennis Altman points out that, ”as Western
cormtlies become societies of high consumption, rapid credit, and rapid
technological development, it was not surprising that the dominant sexual
ideology of restraint and repression came rmder attack" (qtd. in Forest 103).
ConsumerismmditspomofioninSpainnecessarilyafl‘ectedthesexual identity

offlreindividualandbegantoexertapressmenotwhollyunlikeprohibifion

179

under the dictatorship. While the imperative arose fiom a completely different
somee,theefl‘eaontheindividualwassimflar—pressmemconformtoacertain
mode of behavior. As McGowan reminds us, "Unlike the public law which
prohibits enjoyment, the superego commands it. According to Lacan, 'Nothing
forces anyone to enjoy except the superego” (30). Thus in the society of
commanded enjoyment we observe a shift in the source ofthe pressure on the
individual, but not a substantial change in the mechanism itself.

Pedro Almodovargoes furtherthananyotherinhispresentationofmanas
subject to desire. Born in 1949 in Calzada de Calatrava, a small village near
Ciudad Real, Almodovar grew up an imaginative child with a close relationship to
his mother and to the cinema of both Spain and Hollywood. After receiving the
typical religious education of his time, at age 17 he moved to Madrid and found
work at Telefénica, the national telephone company. He became a productive
member of Madrid's blossoming lmderground artistic movement that became
known as "La Movida," participating actively in avant-garde theater, comic-strip
and fiction writing, musical performance and recording, and cinema. Ideally
situating himself at the forefiont of the cultmal revolution that was overtaking
Spain in the aftermath of the dictatorship, Almodovar's artistic endeavors are
marked by excess and the liberation of the individual fiom the taboos imposed by
thedictatorship. Heembracedthatwhichwasforbiddenandhischaractersact
without regard for rules or limitations imposed fiom without. Pedro Almodovar's
work perfectly represents the casting off of the old society of prohibition and the

embracingofanethospertaininginsteadtoasocietyofenjoyment. Hisfilms

180

 

reflected the apolitical spirit of the times and promoted pleasure as the new
mandate. Ashestates, '"Thecharactersinmy films utterlybreakwiththepast
which is to say that most of them, for example, are apolitical. Pleasure must be
gasped immediately, mdonistically; that is almost the main leitrnotif of their
lives'" (qtd. in Kinder, "Pleasme" 34). Thus the apparently apolitical stance that
Almodovar self-consciously inserts into his work, especially in the form of a
camp recycling of the past reflects further the resistance to prohibition and its
influence on the individual. As Alejandro Yarza points out in Un canibal en
Madrid, Almodévar's "camp" aesthetic, while appearing apolitical can be seen as
an attempt to salvage history divesting it of its politicized taint. Yarza states, ”la
l’rnica manera legitima de volver a entrar en contacto con esta herencia sin repetir
las poco fi'uctiferas dicotomias del pasado era mediante su transformacion ironica.
Esto es, rescatarla de la manipulacion de la derecha y de paso burlarse de la gave
seriedad y del puritanismo estético de la izquierda” (30). By rejecting any final
anchoring signifier in favor of a focus on the ever-mobile surface, he removes
power fiorn the transcendental phallus. Again citing Yarza, the importance of this
shift away fiom "truth" of the past (as is seen in camp) can be observed: "El
camp, a1 igual queel postestructuralismo, shaves del énfasisenlatextrna, la
superficie y la textualidad, produce una liberacion del significante que, en ultima
mstamiasabotealaideadeunsignificadonamcendentakdelmprmmdeapoyo
extemo al discurso que sirve para estabilizar e1 significado, para fijar la verdad"
(31). Thus Almodévar's refusal to engage directly with political themes as they

havebeenpresMedtohimcanbeseenasarejectionofauanscendentaltruth

181

 

 

 

that would limit the play of possibilities and thus introduce prohibition into his
cinematic world.

Almodévar tried to represent the new Spanish mentality in his films and
more than any other, his vision came to represent the modern Spanish identity to
the world. As Mark Allison comments, "Ningfin otro producto cultural espafiol
ha sido tan instnnnental en los afios ochenta y noventa para conformar 1a
impresién del mundo de la identidad espafiola" (qtd. in Heméndez Ruiz 209).
The Spain be packaged and presented to the world was full ofcolor and kinetic
energy and was fully bent on pursuing the object of one's desire, even unto death.
For Almodovar the limitations of the past are irrelevant and Spain is immersed in
the present reality of its desire. He described the fundamental shift in the Spanish
mentality in an interview with Marsha Kinder in the following way:

I believe the new Spanish mentality is less dramatic—although I
demonstrate the contrary in my films. We have consciously left
behind many prejudices, and we have humanized our problems.
We have lost om fear of earthly power (the police) and of celestial
power (the church), and we have also lost our provincial certainly
thatwearesuperiortotherestoftheworld——thetypical Latin
prepotency. And we have recuperated the inclination toward
sensuality, something typically Meditenanean. We have become
more skeptical, without losing the joy of living. We don't have
confidenceinthefirttne,butweareconstructingapastfor

ourselves because we don't like the one we had. (Pleasure 37)

182

 

 

 

The loss of fear of those patriarchal powers of the police and the Church that once
reigned srmremeinSpainisanindicationoftheerasrneofthehierarchythatwas
typical of the society of prohibition. Almodovar observes and represents an
inclination toward sensuality without boundaries that he sees as a fundamental
element of the Spanish character. His lack of respect for patriarchal power
extendstotheconsmrcfionofanewpresenttlntmarksadeepnrptmewiththe
past. The Spanish public and the world embraced his vision of broken taboos and
fluididentifiesashebecamethemostimportantSpanishdirectorofhistime—
settingrecordsinviewershipandwinningprizesathomeandabroad.

The sort offluidity and resistance to limitations represented in
Almodovar's films that became emblematic of the new Spanish ideal was perhaps
bestrepresentedbytheyoung, somewhatandrogynousAntonioBanderaswho
starred in many of his early films: "Almodovar's deployment of Banderas' energy
andmagnefismwassosucwssfiflthatitesmblishedamobflesexuahtyasflrenew
cultlnal stereotype for a hyperliberated Socialist Spain" (Stone 86). Through
clunges of costlmre, employment, familial relations, gender identification,
physical abilities and attributes, place of residence, religious and national
affiliations, hischaractersslnreacommon goal: thepursuitofthatthingthatthey
most desire. His vision of fluidity of identity is antithetical to the Freudian model
basedontheOedipuscomplexmwhichanmdividmlpassedtMoughmgotsmck
in, various stages on his way to sexual maturity. This tendency has been observed
by Paul Julian Smith, whose book entitled Desire Unlimited: The Cinema of

Pedro Almodévar traces the Almodovarian model of ”libidinal economy" where

183

 

 

 

the psychic and the commercial meet: "In his hostility to fixed positions of all
kinds, Almodovar anticipates that critique of identity and essence that was later to
become so familiar in academic feminist, minority, and queer theory" (3). By
maintaining an undefined subject position for his characters, Almodovar resists
psychoanalysis' regulatory power which is, as R.W. Connell describes it, "a
modern technology of surveillance and conformity, acting as a gender police and
bulwark of conservative gender ideology" (11). For Almodévar, identity is fixed
onlybydesireanditisthesingleconstantinthelivesofmanyofhischaracters.
In La ley del deseo, Tina the transsexual female played by Carmen Maura has
changedhersexfiommaletofemaleattheurgingofherfatherwhowasher
lover. She continues to consider him the most important figure in her life despite
the physical changes of her body. In a similar way, her homosexual brother
passionately loves one man and then desires another (who will kill the first)
seamlesslyandalmostwithoutdistinction, continuingtocomposethelettersthat
he desires to receive fiom a lover. Marsh and Nair have described Almodovar’s
attention to desire in his films: "Although for his hostile observers, his spectacular
espousal of gender fluidity obscures a dilettante attitude to politics, for his
invariably unconditional admirers, Almodovar's cinema—with its emphasis upon
'desire' and 'id'—has been delightfufly seized upon precisely because, while self-
consciously proclaiming its own radicality, it eschews more meaningful
engagement" (53).

It is precisely this fluidity though that allows them a potentially real

liberation from the oedipal model. Other contemporaries ofAlmodovar such as

184

 

 

 

Guy Hocqueghem, Jacques Deleuze and Felix Guattari, discussed the liberating
potential of desire as a truly radical force. In his monogaph Homosexual Desire,
Guy Hocquenghem discusses the connection between homosexuality, which he
considered a fimdamentally fluid and amorphous sexual identification, and the
undermining of the patliarchal order: "So when homosexuals a8 a goup publicly
reject their labels, they are in fact rejecting Oedipus, rejecting the artificial
entrapment of desire, rejecting sexuality focused on the Phallus" (39). It is
importanttounderstandtheway Hocquenghemdefines sexualityinorderto
understand the relevance it has for Almodovar's characters' pan-sexuality. In
essence they both reject the idea that desire is locked into a fixed relationship to
its object. Hocquenghem writes:

Homosexual desire—the expression is meaningless. There is no
subdivision of desire into homosexual and heterosexual. Properly
speakingdesireisnomorehomosexualthanheterosexual. Desire
emerges in a multiple form whose components are only divisible a
posteriori, according to how we manipulated it. Just like
heterosexual desire, homosexual desire is an arbitrarily fiozen
frame in an unbroken and polyvocal flux. (49)

Almodévar adopts this anti-oedipal vision of sexuality that was further described
by Deleuze and Guattari, and which was truly revolutionary in the sense tint it
madeOedipus irrelevant, littlemorethanthebuttofajokeasittmnsouttobe in
Laberinto de pasiones. In that film Sexi's self-professed "Lacanian"

psychomalyst helps her to create a prototypical origin narrative in which her

185

 

 

promiscuity is seen to be the direct result of her father's rejection one day on the
beach when she was a child. The explicit references, obvious symbols and
cinematically conventional flashback technique undermine any power a
psychoanalytical analysis might have. Almodovar's vision of desire reflects not
so much desire-as-lack, as we have seen in the Freudian context, but rather desire-
as-productive-force which was proposed by Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari in
Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Their rejection of the Oedipal
family and its repression of desires is reflected in Almoddvar's characters who
operate within a system of "detenitorialized" desires or rather desire that is apart
from a rigidly impom hierarchical context and that is not directly linked to a
particular object. For Deleuze and Guattari the psychoanalytic model reproduces
thepattemsoftherepressionofdesireinaccordwiththeneedsofthecapitalist
machine: "Hence, instead of participating in and undertaking that which will bring
about genuine liberation, psychoanalysis is taking part in the work of bourgeois
repression at its most far-reaching level, that is to say, keeping European
humanity harnessed to the yoke of daddy-mommy and making no effort to do
away with this problem once and for all” (211). Thus the anti-oedipal model is
more closely suited to analysis of Almodovar's work in the 19808 and explains
why lack is not seen as negative in his films.
AlmodovargoesfirrtherthananyotherSpanishdirectorinrejectingthe
representation of the Oedipus complex in the creation of his characters. His
rejection of the nuclear, patriarchal family can be seen in his second widely-

released feature film, Laberinto de pasiones. This camp melodrama/comedy has

186

 

a large cast and follows various protagonists—Sexilia (Cecilia Roth) a supposed
nymphomaniac, Sadec (Antonio Banderas), a gay Islamic terrorist, Riza (Imanol
Arias) the son of the emperor of Tiran, and Queti, the daughter of a dry-cleaner.
WhenRizadiscoversthatSadecandhiscolleaguesareafierhim,hedisgtuses
himself as a punk rocker, and after a couple of gay tlysts (including one with
Sadec who falls deeply in love with him) falls in love with Sexilia, his first
straight relationship. Meanwhile Queti, Sexilia's ”biggest fan,” escapes her home
whereherdementedfatherhasbeenmistakingherforhermotherandraping her
regularly, and undergoes plastic smgery to become an exact copy of Sexilia
whose place she assumes, including beginning a would-be incestuous relationship
with Sexi's previously sexually frigid father who shows no signs of knowing that
heisnotinbedwithhisowndaughter. Inthisfilmthepatliarchal familyis
undone through the representation of incestuous, unnecessary or obsessive
fathers, absent or destructive mothers, and children who are either victims oftheir
parents or resigned witnesses to their progenitors' foibles. Liberation comes from
escape as the final scene shows Sexi and Riza leaving on a comically phallic-
shaped airplane as it heads for a tropical island. Their orgasm is heard off screen
astheirfiiendsandrelativesleftbehindintheairportlookoninwonder.

This film, seemingly methodically, violates every taboo with its largest
victimbeingthepatriarchy. Charactersinthefilmrefusetoadoptaspecific role
within their family or their social environment, changing identities and sexual
partnerswithease. Sexualityisseenassomethingthatcanbeplayedwith,

altered,tried-onorcastofl',pickedupinanopen-airmarketoratthecornerbar.

187

 

The opening scene shows Sexi walking through an open shopping area in "El
Rastro" flea market while her gaze along with the camera's, shifts from one man's
crotch to another as if she were window shopping. Riza is seen to do the same
and engages Almoddvar collaborator Fabio McNamara for a sexual meeting after
sending over a drink and casually exchanging a few introductory comments.
Sexuality is specifically linked with consumerism in various instances in the film.
In the case of Queti and her confused father, his "deviant" behavior is thought to
be the result ofa drug. He regularly takes some sort ofmedication desigled to
increase sexual vitality, just as she attempts to counteract the effects of this drug
with yet another, smreptitiously added to his coffee. She names the product
"Vitapens" and reads the recommendations, trusting that the proper blend of
pharmaceuticals can solve her problem. In another scene the character played by
Fabio McNamara is seen in a photo shoot for a gaphic novel "enjoying" the
violence of a power drill which is captured for sale. Consumer society now
demands that sexuality is mediated and directed by its dictates.

The themes observed in these films—apparent apoliticality, identity
mobility, absence or ridiculization of the hierarchy and the pursuit of one's desire
as a valid prnpose in life—all mark Almodovar as the quintessentially relevant
director of Spain's transition from a hierarchical, patriarchal past to a hedonistic,
self-indulgent futme. By recognizing desire and its expression as the fundamental
difference between the dictatorship model of masculinity and the more liberal
democraticmodel, Almodovardidmoretlnn anyotherdirectortorepresentand

promotethe"modem" SpanishidentitytoSpaniardsandtotheworld. Hiswork

188

 

 

 

 

addresses the issue on its most basic level-—that of the fundamental construction
of identity based on desire rather than prohibition.
III. "Modern" Nation and the "Feminized" Male

As the Transition wore on, figures in film fiom the later 19808 and early
19908 pm'sue pleasure and individual advancement without regard for society as a
whole, a trend that mimicked the general movement of Spanish society itself.
Under the Socialist party booming economic gowth during the latter halfofthe
19808 elevated in visibility what was referred to as ”la cultura del dinero” (Jover
Zamora 824) as economic neo—liberalism came to dominate. It was a time when
wealthy bankers and businessmen and their doings—both professional and
personal—became the subject of geat interest and dissemination in Spanish
society at large. It was a movement that elevated personal advancement and can
be seen as damaging to the collective: "La cultura de enriquecimiento, e1 glamour
del dinero y del éxito, dafié sutilmente, sin embargo, la ética y provoco al tiempo
admiracion y rechazo social” (825 Jover Zamora). It was a trend that gave rise to
aculuneofcomrpfionandpersomlgainamongtheSocialistParty—afactthat
contributed ultimately to their election 1088 in 1996 to the Partido Popular. In the
fihnssmdiedmthissecfionpersonalsafisfacfiomecommicmdsexmlfisseenas
the prime motivator for human behavior and takes center stage in the plots of
many films in the late 19808 and 19908. Politics are almost wholly absent fiom
many of the most-watched films of the era as a reflection of the waning interest of
youngpeople inthetopic as “pmtismo” orthedisdainforpoliticsbecomes

firmlyembeddedatthistime. Maleprotagonistsinmanyofflrefilmsofthisela

189

 

 

 

appear to accept and embrace female sexuality as well as their own more
"feminine" side, but there is generally a consolidation of male power at the end
that reestablishes the white, male heterosexist prerogative. ”Subaltem" goups
including foreigr, gay and effeminate men appear in a number of Spanish films of
the 19808 and early 19908, but they are generally relegated to a peripheral or
subordinated position while highly specularized heterosexual male bodies
dominate, now as points of identification as well as objects of consumption. The
individual'spersonalsexual satisfactionisseentotrumpallotherneedsand
considerations and many films fiom the period are characterized by disintegating
or unstable personal relationships.

Vicente Aranda's successful and critically acclaimed film Amantes serves
as an example of the ”feminization" of the male through his subjection by desire,
but in which, finally, desire is merged with a hyper-masculine form of
heterosexualitythattliumphsintheend. InthisfilmPaco(Jorge Sanz) is
established as the product of a religious-military backgound in the opening scene,
a church ceremony marking the end of his service in the ”mili" lmder Franco. He
is portrayed at the moment when he is transitioning out of the lifestyle represented
bythesedisciplinesandintothecivilianworld. Ratherthanretlnntohisfamilyin
Segovia, he stays in Madrid finding lodgings in the home of an attractive widow,
Luisa (Victoria Abril) with whom he soon becomes sexually involved, though still
maintaining his relationship with his virginal girlfiiend, Trini (Maribel Verdr'r).

He is presented initially in a feminized position—seduced by an older woman,

specularized by a camera that dwells on his body rather than hers, even ”violated"

190

 

by the pink handkerchief that his lover inserts into his anus during sex. Passion
soonbecomeslinkedwithconupfionandpersonalgainasPacoparficipatesina
scam to swindle a farmer at Luisa's urging. He is completely dominated by his
passion for Luisa and only reluctantly retums to Trini to celebrate Christmas eve
aswastheircustom. Thecigarthat sheoffershimasthe "sefiorde lacasa"
symbolizes the role prepared for him in the patriarchal hierarchy as she promises
toservehimashiswifeandpartnerinthesmallbusinessshewouldliketoopen
with him. However, the patriarchal hierarchy and the defened benefits it implies
pales in comparison to the immediate gatification and jouissance available to him
with Luisa. He feels driven to retlnn to his sexual relationship with her despite
the fact that he is risking all——future, reputation, personal safety, economic
stability—to do so. McGowan comments on this movement away fiom a society
that respected the symbolic distance implicit in the society of prohibition: "As the
symbolicreceedsweareforcedtoconfiontdreobscene,primalfatherwho
commands jouissance rather than a symbolic father who prohibits it” (xxiv).
Rather than choosing the sexually conservative Trini who is constantly rejecting
his sexual advances, he chooses Luisa and immediate gratification. Finally in her
desperation Trini tries to convert herself into the passionate lover she thinks Pwo
desires, but rather than having the desired effect, the change empowers him to
reject her as ”the scheming female." Eventually the temptation of easy money and
sex with Luisa proves too much and he returns to her, but now it is he who
dominatssthesimafiondnoughhisdistantattimdeaseachbecomesjealous ofthe

other. FinallywhenLuisaneedsmoneytopayanolddebt,Pac0provescapable

191

 

 

 

of murdering Trini and handing her life savings over to Luisa. It is as if in
stealing the money he rejects again the future of the patriarchal, hierarchical
family role that is laid out for him and opts instead for a self-absorbed
individualism that is fueled by sex and easy money. The self-centered protagonist
takes center stage and lmlike older films like Surcos in which Don Roque, ”e1
Chamberlain" the blackmarketeer, a conniving, two-timing murderer, played a
peripheral and obviously evil character, Paco is very much the center of
identification for the viewer. A8 a handsome youth, he is shown to be neither
wholly evil nor particularly unappealing in any way. To the contlary, his
dilemma seems reasonable given the circumstances and his decision does not
apparently provoke excessive anguish in him.

Jorge Sanz plays a similar character in the Academy Award winning film
Belle epoque by Fernando Trueba—an appealing if somewhat confirsed young
manwhostruggleswithasexual dilemma. Thefilm'stitlehintsatacertain
European orientation in which the focus on the Edenic home that bears little if any
resemblanceto Spanish societyofthe daynoroftheperiodinwhich it is set: the
brief time between the end of the monarchy and the beginning of the Second
Spanish Republic in 1931. Again the protagonist is in the process of shedding his
military existence for the world of pleasure and self-indulgence. In this film
FemandoescapesfiomtheRepublicanarmyandintothemidstoffombealnifid
and sexually liberated sisters fiom whom he can apparently choose and alternate
without recriminations or repercussions. The film ostensibly highlights the joyful

coexistence of the contented sisters who play with the bewildered Fernando and in

192

 

allowing the female characters to express their sexual desire, presents a facade of
egalitarianismbetweenthesexes. Butasthisfilmdemonsn'ategatemporary
"feminization" of the male protagonist does not ultimately result in a loss of
power. As Kenneth MacKinnon suggests: "The softening of masculinity may
have little to do with female emancipation or empowerment. The most cynical

interpretation would be that, in order for masculinity to remain hegemonic, it must

 

admit the feminine at certain historical moments" (15). Like Paco in Amantes
whobecomesthespecularized "object" ofthefilm, itisultimatelyhewhogains

mastery in the situation by ultimately retaining the male prerogative, or rather the

 

power to choom among the women. Ultimately the male protagonist's thematic
importance and narrative focus along with the specularity of the images of those
beautiful womenpresentedaspartofthe Edenic backgoundservestopropagate
one more male fantasy. Chris Peniam has noted that Jorge Sanz's roles in these

twofilms, "arebynomeansfieeofpornogaphic male fantasies" (31)and,

 

regarding the earlier film discussed here, by Aranda, goes on to describe the
triumph of male heterosexisrn: "The extreme eroticization of Sanz in Aranda's
movie is underpinned—safeguarded—by the twin contexts of Aranda's guffly
unreconstructedmaleoeuvreand,wecanseewithhindsight,byother
performances by Sanz which are emphatically heterosexist in their assumptions.
Inthissemevirilityresurfacestmscathedfiomthe melodramaofextremepassion
and objectification" (31). Despite the appearance of egalitarianisrn, Sanz's

character never gives up his male prerogative.

193

The atmosphere of carnival that suffuses Belle epoque and is explicitly

representedinthefilmservesasametaphorforthegenderplaythatisatworkin

 

this film that ultimately proves very little subversive. Festival itself has been
indicated to have a connection with a liberal consumerist attitude as outlined by

French social historian Bartolomé Bennassar: "For festival is simultaneously the

absence of work, defiance of the spirit of saving and foresight, and a paroxysm of J
consumption" (qtd. in Garland 98). Thus the openness to self-indulgence and 9‘

freedom are symptomatic of a consumerist society which elevates the idea of the

 

importance of one's personal satisfaction. Furthermore Robert Stam's work with d I
the Bahktinian category of carnival cautions that the apparent freedom and role-

reversal can be merely a temporary masquerade and that the category itself is

”most susceptible to co-optation" (Garland 99). Rather David Garland explains

how what Andrew Ross clmacterizes as "libertine fantasies of mobility" are

 

ultimately premised on male power and privilege (99). The male is freed to adopt
the feminine role as yet another means of taking pleasure. Rather than being truly
subjugated, he plays with the "dominated" subject position in order to extract the
pleasure that may be attained fiom such a move. Jan Jagodzinsky points out that
the representation of feminized masculine bodies "enables patriarclml masculinity
to reposition itself so as to occupy the conventional place of the feminine,
effectively colonizing it" (30). Thus while Fernando is feminized to the extent
that he cooks, serves at table and is the apparent sexual plaything of the sisters, it
ishewhoultimatelychoosesarnongthemandregainsthroughmaniagethe

patriarchal position.

194

The film's flmction as a vehicle of (especially male) wish fulfillment and
therepresentationofthe houseasasortofgardenofEdenhasbeendiscussedby
Jose Colmeiro in "Paradise Found? Ana/chronic Nostalgia in Belle Epoque" in
which he compares Trueba's house to Garcia Lorca's famous house in La casa de
Bernardo Alba. The contrast between the two houses illustrates the contrast
between the formerly prohibitive and religious Spain and the open, liberal,
consumerist Spain. As Colmeiro describes it: ”Against the painful austerity, the
law of silence, and the delirious obsession with the cleanliness of honor, virginity,
and the "virtues" of the old and intolerant Catholic Spain so well represented in
Bernardo Alba, Belle Epoque represents the exuberance, the unleashing of
repressed voices of joy, laughter, and pleasure, and the new virtues [italics mine]
of tolerance and permissiveness, where sexuality is not only not forbidden but
trimnphantly celebrated" (137). Rather than locking her daughters behind closed
doors, the mother in Belle Epoque encomages her daughters to enjoy
themselves—serving as example by having sex with her husband while her lover
waitsoutsidethedoor. Whereas "Pepeelromano" wasdeniedaccesstothe
sisters locked within the house, here Fernando is allowed to come and go at will
and to engage in sexual relations with all of the fun sisters. Thus Trueba's film
represents the dominant morality of his times just as Lorca's play did his. The
striking shifttowards pleasure inthis film showsno negative consequences, but
rather promotes the equation of self-indulgence with happiness—the highest value

in a consumerist society.

195

 

 

 

Thus in the two films discussed here the heterosexual gender norm is
played with but not rmdone. In these films the obfuscation is very important in
that masculinity seems, without actually being, substantially altered, and the final
scenehasFernando, maniedtotheyoungest sister, receivingapartingkissonthe
mouth fiom his ex-lover/sister-in-law indicating again that his masculine
patriarchal privilege of sexual fieedom remains intact. The Transition and its .-
concomitant liberalization in the economic and the sexual sphere opened the field '

to new ways of playing with and exploring the topic of sexuality but the

 

heterosexual masculine dominant ideal is reestablished inthese films albeit now J
focused on the pursuit of pleasure.
IV. Unruly Ghosts of the Past

Despite widespread propagation, the “miraculous” story of Spain's
transition flour a dictatorship to a modern democratic nation with a common set
of goals and motivations is subverted in various films of the period by the
appearance ofunresolved trauma that takes the form ofa haunting from the past.
Filmsfiomthemysteryandhonorgenresawellasfilmsfiomtheperiphery,
most notably the Basque region, strayed markedly fiom the models represented
earlierinthischapter. Whilethemajorityoffilms fromthe latterhalfofthe
Transition period employed realism and high production values to narrate self-
containedstoriessuchashasbeenseeninthemanylitemryadaptationsand
historical-themed films, another, darker current brought the experience of trauma
to the fore and resisted easy assimilation and resolution. The ”miracle” of Spain's

transition fiom dictatorship to democracy was, ofcourse, never seamless or

196

comprehensive and this is clearly evidenced in the three films discussed here—La
muerte de Mikel, Tras eI cristal and Beltenebros—in which the protagonists
struggle with the effects of events from the past that clearly continue to drive their
present in mysterious and unexplainable ways. Jo Labanyi's elaboration of the
concept of "halmtology" in its Spanish context helps to elucidate the nature of
these traumatic masculinities that are rmable to ”look forward" and to easily adopt
society's glossing of history in its pursuit of a neater, cleaner future. In her article,
”History or Hauntology?” Labanyi likens the artist to the historian who Walter
Benjamin describes as a bricoleur that "rummages around in the debris or litter
left by the past, and reassembles the fi'agments in a new "comtellation" tlmt
permits the articulation of that which has been left unvoiced" (69). In all three of
thefilmsdiscussedhelethemaleprotagonistishauntedbyapastthatneedstobe
addressed and understood despite the fact that comprehension and resolution
remain outside his gasp.

Because suppression of the Basque identity had been especially fierce
during the dictatorship and its legacy has been carried over into the new
democracy, films fiom this region do not tend to end in resolution or blameless
melancholy as many of those produced in Madrid. While attention to resolving
regional issues was a concern of the Adolfo Suarez government fiom the
beginning,acceptanceofacenualamhofitylocatedinMadfidconfinuedtobe
highly problematic, especially in the Basque region. Unlike Catalufla which
delnonsuatedawilfingnessmengagemdialogueandhadageneraldesiremsee

the new democracy work, the Basque region's situation was much more

197

 

complicated. Tensions between Basque separatists, especially ETA, and the
central government remained high throughout the transition period, aggavated by
such events as the death in February 1981 by police abuse of an incarcerated
memberofETAandreportsoftortmethatstnfacedinlelationtothegoquAL
(Grupos Antiterroristas de Liberacién) and to state violence, while ETA in its tlnn
continued to use violence and terror instead of political dialogue to address its
concerns. It is not surprising then that films created in the Basque region in the
19808 often presented a much more sober and deeply traumatized vision of
masculinity than did those coming out of Madrid at the time. In films like La
muerte de Mikel, political violence continues to play a primary role in the lives of
the individuals represented. The economic prosperity that served as focus or
backdroptomany fihnsfiomthe 19808wasabsentortreatedwithadegeeof
contempt in many Basque films while the struggle for mastery and self-identity
makes this film more closely resemble many of those from the 19708 in which
reconciliation with the past did not often occur.

In La muerte de Mikel Imanol Uribe, the first recipient of Basque film
subsidies for his 1981 film F uga de Segovia, continued to explore the political
and sexual identity of the individual faced with a hostile environment. Mikel
Miranda (Imanol Arias) struggles to come to terms with his own homosexuality,
hisdisintegafingmarfiageandaccusafionsabomhispastBasquenafionalist
political involvement. His marital problems reveal his lmease with the forces that
formed him—family, church and political environment-and recognition of its

failuresethimonapathtoseekthetruth. Whenhismodemandnewly

198

 

 

 

"Europeanized" wife returns fiom a long holiday abroad, he finds he is unable to
desire her. One night after coming home drunk and initiating sexual relations,
their encounter turns into a guesome affair when he apparently bites or otherwise
severely injures his wife while performing oral sex. Soon after he begins an affair
with a transvestite night club performer and as a result, is dismissed from
consideration as a political candidate by his Abertzale political party. Shortly
thereafter he is picked up by the police for his alleged past association with ETA
andintenogated. Theendofthe filmdepictshisfuneral,hi8deathremaining
unexplained in the film. His strongly religious and anti-homosexual mother's
enignatic expression leads the viewer to believe that it could be she, last
representative of the old dictatorship order (even the priest calls for respect of
Mikel's choice), who kills her own son motivated by a desire to avoid the scandal
that might be associated with his increasingly public lifestyle, though suicide or a
politically motivated killing are not completely ruled out. The trarnna is left
lmexplained and thus unassirnilated in direct contrast to many contemporary films
like Tiempodesilenciothatsoughttoputanendtodreissestreated.

As in El diputado and Flor de Drona, from early in the film the connection
between sexuality and politics is established through the juxtaposition of the
arguing couple, Mikel and his wife, with another passing couple who is
assassinatedbythepolicewhoshootatthemanddrivedreircarofitheroad
almost immediately after the clmnce crossing. Mikel and his wife at this moment
arediscussingtheneedtocastofl'themasksofthepastandfimflyteflthemnhto

one another. The ensuing politically-motivated violence can clearly be

199

 

 

 

 

considered a commentary on the need for honesty in the public sphere as well.
Under dmess, Mikel refuses to sign a police document confessing his guilt for
some past offense, but rather endures torture for the sake of truth. In his personal
life as well he comes to realize that his comfortable bomgeois lifestyle with his
wife is a lie in itself and he casts it off to embrace the freedom of expression that
his newly accepted homosexuality affords him. Unlike productions appearing out
of Madrid, this fihn explicitly addresses the contemporary political and social
situation and its continuing violence upon the individual. His conservative
patriarchal "madrecastrante" standsin,asinsomanyearlierfilmsfromthe
19708, as the representative of dictatorship values which continue to haunt the
individual. Even his supposedly more liberal political associates reveal a
reluctance to seek total honesty and it is apparent that political exigencies trump
honesty in the political process. The only other male figures who represent truth
are his apolitical fisherman fiiend who is shown to lack commitment and
therefore to be unacceptable as a model, and Fama the transvestite, who by her
verysexualhonestyisshowntobeoneofthe mostadmirableofallcharactersin
the film. Though of course Fama is not adopted as a focal point for identification,
the film does present her alternative lifestyle as morally superior to that of lying
politicians and homophobic society as a whole.

However, despite their prominence in the press, regional politics was not
the only issue "harmting" the new democracy. The rapid and supposedly smooth
transition to democracy seemed to leave behind a feeling ofrmease tlnrt gave rise

to a number of films and works of fiction in the detective and horror genres

200

 

including Beltenebros and Tras el cristal. Vicente Benet describes an ambient
"atmbsfera de pesadilla" (167) that infuses many ofthese works and links it to the
effect of a confiontation with the past. In the detective films discussed he
describes this confrontation in the following way: "an presente onirico cargado
por las insistentes sombras del pasado [ . . . ] El cine espafiol contemporaneo se ha
distanciado de esa reflexion critica con el fianquismo pero permite, en filmes
como los que nos ocupan en este trabajo, que las sombras de sus fantasuras y sus
demonios se proyecten sobre el presente como un trayecto de descubrimiento que
ha de conducirnos a una verdad esencial" (174). In the film Beltenebros by Pilar
Milo, aprofessional hitmanintheserviceofthe CommunistPartyissentto
Madrid to eliminate a traitor who has been betraying the identity of party officers
to the police. His jounrey minors a trip he made twenty years earlier, in the
aftermath of the Second World War in which he executed a man he erroneously
believed to be a leader ofthe resistance. It appears that a former Party leader
turned fascist cop is the traitor and mastermind behind both events. The intricate
plot and baroque structure (frequent flashbacks, voice-overs, doubled-identities,
etc.) serve to occult the original motives and acts that would explain the present
situation and allow the viewer to establish right from wrong, causes fiom effects,
heroesfiomvillains. Thisfilm likeothersofthegenrecreateintheviewera
sense ofunfinismd business that does not allow for a neat resolution ofevents of
the past.

Andfimlly,thelearefewfilmsasdarkandrmresolvedasAugusti

Vilaronga's Tras el cristal which escapes any totalizing mrrative that may

201

 

 

 

comfort the viewer and provide contextualization. Leora Lev has commented on
the significance of this film:
This suggests that a dark reservoir of unprocessed recent history

remains just below the surface of a "Westemized," post-Franco

 

politico-cultmal landscape. The fascist Spain excoriated by
BufluelandSauramightbeburiedunderanewfacadebut I
consumerist technologies and economies have awakened new A 3'

decadent desires as well as smnmoned evil energies from the past

 

like so many returns of the repressed. (176) U

Thefilmripsopenauaumaticfissurewhichreflectsthepainthatwas
wrought upon many under the dictatorship. The opening scene depicts a naked
andbloodiedboyhanging fiomampeconnectedtoflreceilingHiscaptor,an
older man, takes photos of him, kisses him and finally kills him. From beginning
to end, the film never relents in its indictment ofthe honors perpetrated against
the innocent, showing how innocence itself is easily corrupted and made
complicit. The plot centers arormd the former victim of the ex-Nazi (now living
quietly with his wife and daughter in the Spanish countryside) who comes back
andobtainsapositionasnmsetohisformertormenter,who isnowconfinedtoan
iron lung as a result ofa past accident. This former victim recreates scenes of
tortureandmurderuponthebodiesofyoungboysinfullviewoftheoldmanasa
wayofbringinghishorribledeedsbacktofacehim. Thefilmispainfirltowatch
and resists any attempt to be assumed into the "miraculous" transition nanative. A

bloody and repressive history, as Spain's was in the earlier part of the 20th

202

century, cannot simply be wished away as Fernando Trueba and others apparently

tried to do in avoiding discussion of that violence. Nor could a ”modem" vision

 

of a progessive and liberal Spain do away with the psychological effects of those
years. Villaronga's dark film rises up to present the unpresentable: "La politica de
consenso que organiza la produccibn cultural a partir de sus narraciones
hegemonicas de tachadura de la memoria y de la homogeneizacibn de lo diverso y I
10 plural—que de este modo pierde parte de su firerza transgesora—presenta Eh.

brechas, espacios de fisrua por los que sale a escena la urgencia del afecto

 

cancelado" (Moreiras Menor 40). This film is pointed out by Moreiras Menor as J
oneofthosefilmsthatescapestlnoughthecracks. Itrepresentsthe
unrepresentable—that which could not be incorporated into the Transition's
processofpackagingthepast. Thisfilmexaggeratesanddistortsthose
characteristics of masculinity such as mastery and dominance to gotesque
proportions to show the reverse side of these characteristics—once highly-lauded
under fascist regimes-~and now exposed for the cruelty that resides in their
foundation.
V. Conclusion

Consensus politics dominated cinematic production in the 19808 and early
19908, a fact that led to an attempt to package Spain itself for internal as well as
external consumption. As demonstrated, historical and literary films, along with
films by Pedro Almodovar, were supported by Mini Law subsidies and
contributedtothefixingofaSpanishidentitywhichwasthmexportedtothe

world. A common characteristic of films of the period is their geat reluctance to

203

address contemporary politics or to question in any serious way the reigning
political order. In geat contrast to the 19708 which saw an outburst of
experimental and politically explicit productions, in the 19808 public opinion was
being consolidated around the common goals of economic advancement and
sexual gatification, and only a few films deviate fiom this path. The search for
pleasrue and the satisfaction of one's desire become a mandate that, though it
might have the power to destroy lives, seems impossible to resist. Individualism
andaconcemforpersonal gainleplaceparticipationinalargersocial structure
and the individual is often seen as alienated or at odds with those who would
thwart his attempt to enjoy. This shift toward isolated individualism reflects the
movement toward a society of commanded enjoyment and the end of the social

hierarchy based on prohibition—a trend that will become the norm in later years.

204

 

 

Chapter 5: Individualism and Alienation

Various trends in the representation of masculinity in Spanish cinema in
the last fifteen years that are briefly treated here include the importance of image
in a commodity culture as well as a rebellion against it, the rise of heightened
individualism, especially of pleasure-seeking hedonism, and the alienation that
results from a lack of connectedness with others. These changes are generally
consonant with the rise of a heightened consumer-capitalist social structure in
which the individual is increasingly seen as the focus of an omnipresent
marketing scheme in which his consumer identity reigns supreme. Films fiom
tluspenoddealrepeatedlywiththeprocessofacquhingwealthandpersonal
satisfaction despite the cost to one's relationships with others. The threat of
failure often looms large in the lives of male characters struggling to live as their
imagination and ambition dictate while often being forced to recognize the
ephemeralnatureoftheirpowerwithinmodernsociety. Spainhasbeen
characterized at this time as largely uninterested in politics or history as a new
generation gows up without ever having known or cared about Franco or the
dictatorship, and as the older generation (as seen in the case of Pedro Almodbvar)
would prefer to leave the past behind as an unpleasant reminder ofan archaic age
thathasnothingtodo withthefast—paced, globalandmodem nationthatSpain
hasbecome. Themedia,morethanhistory,seemstodominatethelivesofthese
post-modem subjects and the general absence of politics in cinema of this period
reflectstheinterestsofthepopulace. MoreirasMenorhascharacterizedthe

individual in this period in the following way:

205

 

 

 

El ciudadano espaflol vive sumido en la més absoluta
individualidad, bajo e1 dominio de la incertidumbre, de las lbgicas
de la comunicacién de masas (1a television, el video y el ordenador
sobre todo), y la desconfianza hacia el Estado, siendo
simultaneamente testigo implicado o distanciado, pero siempre
impotente, de importantes y novedosos procesos sociales que estén
cambiando la faz de la vieja Europa y con ella, de Espafia. (l9)
Theeonsciousattemptto forgetthepastasseenincinemaofthe latterpartofthe
Transition seems to have yielded the desired end result—the past is Imimportant
inaworld dominated bytheconstantunfoldingofthepresent. Withoutasenseof
history, films of this period often revolve around the individual's very specific
circumstances, concerns and pleasures, and demonstrate a lack of solidarity of the
protagonist with others in a world where competition is often the principal
conflict. OscarGuaschcitestheeonstantbarrageofimagesasacauseof
instability as the individual finds him/herself unable to process emotions:
Laprecariedadconsagraelcortoplazo, lainstamacionsocialdel
ahora es el momenta, y de disfi'uta ahora y empieza a pagar e1 aflo
que viene, genera fenomenos tan dispares como el consumo
basura, e1 endeudamiento familiar y el consumo grupal y festive de
estupefacientes (tanto enue jévenes come entre adultos). Las
sociedades occidentales viven deprisa en el presente, carecen de
memoriahistoricae insistenennoplantearsermfutmequesienten

no poder controlar. (Héroes 54)

206

 

Y"

Within the context of the eternal present, as image takes precedence over
substance and films ofthis period represent the ephemeral nature ofmasculinity,
male clmracters who do not learn to forge new bonds with others become isolated
and insecure. They seem stuck in a "callején sin salida" and often turn to violence
as a coping mechanism.

1. Image:

In the latter part ofthe 20th and early 21st centuries the concept ofselfis
revised in the information age to increasingly include media images as a source of
reference in a sort of Lacanian mirror identification. The subject turns ever more
to media and computer generated images—images largely designed to interpellate
the viewer as a consumer—in order to identify him/herself. Moreiras Menor
describes this phenomenon regarding post 1992 Spain the following way: "Nace
asi el sujeto de la sociedad del espectaculo, aquel sujeto que se articula a partir de
ma total identificacién con la sociedad del consumo y cuyas seflas identitarias
provienen de las que las grandes corporaciones internacionales favorecen" (65-6).
The film Par qué Io llaman amor cuando quieren decir sexo (1993) by director
Manuel Gomez Pereira demonstrates the commodification of the sexual identity
though the body of it male star, Jorge Sanz. As in Amantes and Belle Epoque,
Sanz's character, Manuel, is presented as a sort of beautiful but somehow naive
explorer. Hewandersintoastintasasuewssfirlpeep—showstarasifbyaccident,
needing only to earn some quick cash to pay off a gambling debt. His female co-
star, the more experienced Glori (Veronica Forque), introduces him to the ”art” of

performingsexuaflyinpubficandthoughshetakespainsatfirstmpointomthat

207

 

 

it is purely a business transaction ("No hacemos el amor—follamos,") the two end
up falling in love. The boundary between their "real" selves and their performing
selves becomes blurred as the film progresses until finally they consummate their
"real" relationship by "making love” ("Vamos a hacer el amor"). Ironically this
union takes place within the confines of the peep-show booth while paying
customers watch from behind mirrored glass thus merging the commodity identity
of the body with the "real" identity both of the characters and of the viewers of the
filmwhohavebeeninducedto identifywiththem. Thepurposelyseopophillic
arrangement of the film viewer peeking in on the viewers of the peepshow who
peek in on the lovers, seeks to maintain the element of titillation, of the plenum
"just beyond" or "prohibited." However, the fieedom with which the film shows
all curiously seems to neutralize its eroticism. McGowan attributes a certain
"domestication" of sexuality in a society of commanded enjoyment noting that:
”Rendering the object merit eliminates precisely what is appealing about it——its
Real dimension, that dimension of the object that doesn't fit smoothly in our
world of sense” (79). In this film the carefully negotiated business dealings
regarding sex between the protagonists as well as an extremely transparent
approach to sexual topics (sadomasochism is casually discussed on a television
talk show) removes the distance once imposed by prohibition and unlike the stir
createdbyRimHayworthremovinghergloves,renderssexnothingmomthana
valuable commodity in a consumerist world.

While fi'eeingtheindividual fromthenecessitytoadoptaself—image

based upon one's own body, identification with media-generated images can

208

.1"

n.. O .A‘J' 4.; ."h

 

create a sense of discontinuity with one's physical reality. Oscar Guasch notes
that "El problema es que nuestras sociedades priorizan la imagen hasta llegar a
confundirla con la identidad" (Héroes 135). Films like T ado sobre mi madre
(1999) by Pedro Almodévar and 20 centimetres (2005) by Ramon Salamr
represent individual subj ectivities dissociated from their physical bodies. In these

films, as in many others since the early Transition years, one or more characters

 

seek to radically alter their body as a means of conforming to the ideal they hold
for themselves. In both cases a biologically male character (interestingly the

actors are both women) self-identifies as a woman and continues to ”perform" as a

 

female, claiming that it is important to physically resemble what you feel yourself
to be. In 20 centimetres the protagonist, a narcoleptic prostitute, hovers between
wakefulness and dreams—two states that contrast markedly as her sordid reality,
shot in muted tones in the poor neighborhoods where she lives and works, are
transformed into clean and colorful theatrical sets resembling Hollywood dance
films fiom the 19303 and 1940s in which she herself becomes the beautiful and
gracefulwomanshedreamsofbeinginreal life. Shebelievesthatallthatstands
between her present reality and therealization of her dream is the sex change
operation for which she is saving money. Likewise the transvestite, Agrado, in
Todo sobre mi madre imagines herself in terms of media images claiming that she
drawsherinspirationfrommagazinesfromflre 19708anddefendingonstageher
decision to spend large amounts of money on cosmetic surgery because, "una es
masauténticacuandomasseparecealoquemefladesimisma.“ Thecrowd

heartily applauds her decision to have undergone reconstructive cosmetic surgery

209

on her eyes, nose, breasts and jaw; injections of silicone in her forehead, cheeks,
hips and buttocks, and hair removal over her entire body—all of which came with
a very specific price-tag which Agrado outlines in detail. Almodovar avoids any
presentation of risk or pain associated with such invasive procedures and presents
rather, the svelte body of a young woman as the supposed end result of these
many surgeries and treatments. By avoiding the reality of the process as well as
falsifying the result, the film serves as an extension of a culture that promises that
happiness and self-fulfillment can be purchased—and should be if one is to live
"authentically."

The media image that is held up for consumption in films, television and
especially advertising at this time shifts importance fiom substance to appearance
and focuses on the immediate reality of the present over historical or traditional
forms of power. Since the disbanding of the "band of brothers," and the return of
the ”anal father of enjoyment” who promotes pleasure at every instant,
masculinity finds itself in constant need of reinforcement and is thus vulnerable to
market forces inawaythatitneverwas inthepast. Moreiras Menordescribes
the temporal nature of subjectivity at this time:

el sujeto espectacular y posmoderno, producto de la sociedad del
mercado y la informacién pierde a su vez sus raices histéricas y se
transforms en sujeto profundamente inmerso en la superficie de la
contemporaneidad mas radical—Es el dominio de la perspectiva

del momento. (Moreiras Menor 69)

210

 

 

 

The "perspective of the moment" of which she speaks imposes an rmforgiving set
of requirements for adhering to a "successful" model of masculinity. Physical
beauty, style and wealth must be maintained for the individual to retain his
dominant position in many films fiom the era such as Huevos de oro, Abre Ios
ojos, Los lunes al sol, El crimenferpecto and others.

Whilemanyofthe filmsfiomtheperiodinquestionfeaturetheattractive
actors Javier Bardem, Antonio Banderas, Eduardo Noriega, Juan Diego Bette and
others,thestrikingsuccessoftheTorrenteseriesoffilmsasweHasoflrers like
Accio’n mutante that featured pmposely unattractive leading male characters, or
Los lanes 01 sol that featured realistic, average-looking males figures, constitutes
a sort of backlash against the imposition of the buffed and polished consumerist
image of masculinity in these other films. However, while some male protagonists
express a longing for values of the past—an escape fiom the fast-paced, hyper-
individualist, consumer-oriented present—the pursuit of personal gain to which
they are drawn often undoes these nostalgic desires.

This science-fiction film Accion mutante presents the story of a ragtag
group of "anti-superhero"/revolutionaries, all of whom bear some sort of obvious
physical or mental disability—a htmchback, Siamese twins, one eye, subnormal
intelligence, etc, as if to call attention to lack as a fundamental structuring
characteristic of masculinity. Rambn, the strong father figure-leader who tries to
invoke the values of the past—hierarchy, alliance among men and the explicit
rejectionofconsumerproductsandthe "beautiful people” heassociateswith

them,ultimatelybetrayshismenbykillingthemoffinordertoenjoysole

211

 

 

possession of money and the "gir " thus destroying any chance of recaptming the
lost brotherhood. A rejection of consumerist pressure drives the plot of Accién
mutante: "Society, for these mutants, is controlled by advertising and the media
that dictate a lifestyle based on a strict body discipline. For the mutants/terrorists,

the act of refusing to follow the media edicts is subversive enough to marginalize

 

them fiom mainstream society—a society preoccupied by the integrated elite of |
the posh, stylish and fashionable" (F ouz Hernandez Live Flesh 87). However, as ‘“‘1

much as Ramon seems to want to revive the "band ofbrothers" and reject

 

society's dictates, his intense individualism and selfishness lead him to kill each of J ‘
his companions in order to escape with all of the ransom money collected from h
the kidnapping of an "hija de bien." By refusing to accept prohibition of any
kind, Rambo and his treacherous companions lose any chance of recovering the
object of their nostalgic desire—a pre-consumerist world where man is not
subjecttothelaws ofthe market.

The Torrente phenomenon with its gross comedic appeal also taps into
thislatentdesiretoreconnecttoapastwhereamanwasnotjudgedbyhis
physical beauty or his wealth, but rather simply on his status as a man. The
dramaticsuccessoftheTorrentefilmscouldbeanindicationofadesiretoreject
the pressure to conform to a physical ideal of beauty propagated in the media—
thesamepressmethatwomenhavebcensubjectedtoforyears. AsTriana
Toribio describes Torrente's success: "[He demonstrates] the appeal of comic
ordinminessandmaddmthisappealflratofthemfimalmsrmendermthemedia's

imposition of the beautiful, clean and healthy body which other Spanish stars

212

display" ("Santiago Segura" 152). Torrente's performance of the anachronistic
"macho ibérico" comes with a modern twist however—his utter disregard for the
needs and desires of anyone but himself. He refirses to recognize any law outside
of himself and seeks his own advantage at all times—outrageously disrespecting
his own ageing father whom he forces to beg in the street and feeds waste leftover
fiom the bar. The Torrente films offer the viewer an opportrmity to identify with
a sort of pre-consmnerist model of masculinity but now without the restriction of
prohibition. It nostalgically reealls a past model of masculinity that never
existed—one that was fiee fiom the pressures of consumerism yet flee from
prohibition as well.

Other films that emphasize the ephimeral nature of masculine power are
Abre Ios ojos (Alejandro Amenébar 1997) in which the protagonist appears to lose
everything when he is disfigured in an automobile accident: "Losing his beauty in
a car accident signifies an immediate disempowerment, a loss of phallic power"
(F ouz Hernéndez Live Flesh 86); Los lanes 01 sol (Fernando Leon de Aranoa
2002) in which a group of unemployed dock workers struggle to find self-worth;
and El crimenfemecto (Alex de la Iglesia 2004) in which competition for the
coveted ”floor manager position" appears to define the entire self-worth of the
protagonist who claims that he has no existence outside the department store
whereheworks. Unlikeincrusadecinemaandmanyotherfilmsofthe
dictatorship, masculinity has no enduring value apart fiom its immediate and

constantperformance. Asuddenchangeincircumstancesseemtoefl‘ectan

213

 

 

instant revaluation of the male individual based on consumer market forces—an

instability that appears frequently in films ofthe era.

 

II. Individualism

The films discussed in this section reflect the secure establishment of the
"anal father of enjoyment" instead of the "father of prohibition" as characters fail
to demonstrate self-restraint, seeking to accomplish personal aims as any cost.
Huevos de oro (Bigas Luna 1993) demonstrates some of the principal

characteristics that dominate films from this period—a self-centered disregard for

 

others, sexual hedonism including the use of sex as a commodity, and the
fundamental insecruity of the masculine position in which external economic
circumstances rather than personal characteristics are the measure of his worth.
After his first love betrays him with his best friend, Benito (Javier Bardem), sets
out to achieve material success at all costs. He eventually cheats his way to the
top by marrying the daughter ofa banker whose financing he needs for the
construction of a tower-shaped hotel that he will build on the beach. He appears
to have everything—a strong attractive body, a beautiful home, a rich and
beautiful wife, a lover and financial success. However, when the tower proves
structurally unsormd (Bigas Lma does not concern himselfwith subtlety here—
the film is filled with phallic symbols of various kinds) due to the use of inferior
materials, he loses everything, soon after becoming paralyzed in a car accident
and winding up in Miami, impotent, and supported by yet another girlfiiend who

is now having an affair with the gardener. The movie itselfis filmed in brilliant

214

color with long and erotically charged close-ups of both male and female bodies
displayed for visual consmnption. The entire film is suffused with nostalgia as
Benito sings cheesy old Julio Iglesias songs to camp effect, and thinks bitterly of
his lost love—all the while cheating and conniving to achieve personal
advancement and sexual satisfaction. He winds up utterly dependent on a woman
he does not love in a place he despises—betrayed by his own desires and thus I
permanently estranged from the sort of patriarchal brotherhood that might have p.
afforded him some power despite his circumstances. I

Self-centered pleasure-seeking reaches a new extreme in the scathingly

 

critical film Hombres felices (Roberto Santiago 2001) in which the protagonist is
concerned only with his own happiness, a happiness narrowly defined as the
constant experience of pleasure which he finds primarily through receiving oral
sex. According to Antonio Lucas: "La idea original de la pelicula le sobrevino a1
joven director cuando leia una encuesta sobre la calidad de vida de los espafloles:
{mice objetivo, 1a felicidad. Asi que ideo una comedia acida, sangrante por
momentos, donde unos personajes van hipotecando e1 alma por la felicidad que
nunca encuentran" (up). This husband and father repeatedly disregards his
obligations, paying and seducing women into having sex with him. His
unwillingness to accept responsibility along with his incessant desire for pleasure
position him as a sort of pro-oedipal infant-man who believes he can and should
live exactly as he wishes. He embodies the maximum expression of the
consumerist promise—pleasure without regard for consequences—and thus is an

example of the subject produced in a society of commanded enjoyment. Guasch

215

discusses this tendency in society reflecting the spirit of what has become known
as “Generation X”: "Nuestra sociedad se ha infantilizado de forma dramética.
Una sociedad de nifios irresponsables que lo quieren todo y lo quieren ya"
(Héroes 56). His extreme narcissistic pm'suit of pleasure leads the subject to
desire nothing but a constant passive, orgiastic state of being.

The hyper-individualist state ofthe late 20'“ and early 21st century Spain
seems to have led to the alienation of male characters in various films which
portray dinosaur-like relics fiom a bygone age who react with violence to the
changes occurring around them. Guasch points to the instability of masculinity as
a cause for this violence: "Hay que entender las epidemias de violencia masculina
enel hogarcomo e1 resultadodirectodelacrisisdelaheterosexualidadydela
redefinicion de la identidad masculina" (Crisis 128). In the films Celos (Vicente
Aranda, 1999), Salas (Benito Zambrano, 1999), El Bola (Achero Matias, 2000),
and Te day mis ojos (Iciar Bollain, 2003) alienated ”macho" men resort to
violence as a way to cope with their sense of irrelevance as their wives, girlfriends
and children slip from their control. Lacking the patriarchal support provided by
the dictatorship model of masculinity, and subject to the hyper-individualism of
the period, they fail eitherto maintain patriarchal control orto establishthe sortof
interpersonal relationships that might redeem them. Like Antonio in Te day mis
ojoswhosngglestoexpresshimselfinaspousalabusesuppougroup,these
characters seem alienated fiom their own feelings, unable even to recognize them
let alone express them constructively. Susan Hatty makes the following

connection between violence and the self: "Violence in the service of the modem

216

 

 

 

self, preserves individuality and forestalls the possibility of fusion with the
dangerous not self“ (10). In these films the protagonists are represented as loners,
devoid of fiiends and unable to relate to their partners or children. El Bola
represents the two fathers-one physically abusive, alienated and unhappy, and the
other kind, connected and communicative. The kind father's openness and
extended social group offarnilyandfiiends indicatesthathehasadoptedanew
construction of masculinity based on close interpersonal relationships and a
certain fluidity of boundaries between family member roles. He is a caretaker as
well as authority figure and recognizes Bola, another man's son, as his
responsibility too, thus breaking with the concept of the strict nuclear family as
socializing unit. This model of interrelatedness has been promoted by Hatty as
way out of the hyper-individualist, violence-based model of masculinity as found
in Western society: "it is imperative that we replace the violence mythos with
anothersetofcultural discomsesthattumontheconstructofinterdependence"
(207). El Bola represents the two alternatives presented to men at this juncture—
a self-destructive clinging to the remnants of a bankrupt patriarchal masculine

model, or the acceptance of a masculine model based on shared power and

responsibility.

217

 

 

 

Conclusion

By analyzing cinematic representations of hegemonic models of
masculinity in Spanish film from the beginning of the F rancoist dictatorship to the
present, this dissertation observes as a fimdamental organizing focal point the
relation of the male individual to desire. A study of so—called art house as well as

popular film traditions reveals a relation in the early dictatorship of “successful”

 

masculinity with adherence to prohibition. The positive masculine model, as
most vividly represented in dictatorship “crusade cinema,” renounces personal

pleasure and desire in favor of service as the patriarchal father demands obedience

 

in exchange for a place in the masculine hierarchy. The oedipal narrative, first
introduced by Freud and later expanded upon by Lacan, Silverman, Kinder,
Jagodzinski, McGowan and others, serves as a descriptive paradigm to elucidate
the transfer of power fiorn father to sons. While early dictatorship film represents

an orderly, clearly hierarchical power structure and the mutual renunciation by

 

male characters of pleasure, later films introduce a breakdown of the hierarchy
and a shift toward individualism and the pursuit of pleasure. This shifi represents
a fundamental alteration of the oedipal narrative in which the power of the “father
of prohibition” as Freud referred to civilization’s founding principal, gives way to
the “father of anal enjoyment”-a theoretical construct that represents the ruler of
the pre-oedipal horde. The “return” ofthis primal father reflects a transition
toward consumerist values and is reflected on screen by the breakdown and

rejection by male characters of a social organization founded on prohibition. The

218

father who had formerly imposed prohibition on his sons, now commanded that
male characters enjoy.

This shift caused a disjuncture that is especially evident in films of the
19703 in which there appeared a profusion of “dysfunctional” male characters
who were often represented as orphaned, infantilized, sexually “perverse,” violent
or self-destructive and who were almost universally unwilling or unable to adopt a
normative patriarchal masculine role in the now destabilized masculine order. L

The waning in power of the dictatorship, beginning with the assassination of

 

Carrero Blanco in 1973 and culminating in the death of Franco in 1975, deprived J‘
the oedipal system of its most important bulwark against incipient consumerist
values that, at least in part, had been instigated by the dictatorship itselfas a result
of economic policy of the early 19603. While popular film struggled to assimilate
the changing emphasis fiom prohibition to consumption through humor and a
focus on the consumption of female bodies, other fihns explored “deviant” md
“subversive” masculinities in the aftermath of the dissolution of the prohibitive
oedipal model.

A reorganization took place in the representation of masculinity in the
19808 and beyond as male characters came to be dominated not by prohibition,
but by the injunction to enjoy as a modern progressive attitude in society came to
be equated with consumption, and the antiquated dictatorship with prohibition.
Male figures in films of this period are often esteemed for their physical beauty,
financial successandabilitytoenjoyratherthantheirabilitytoserve. Miro-era

films often promoted a non-controversial approach that covered traumatized

219

 

 

masculinities with a veneer of visual plenitude. High production values and
beautiful scenery served to diminish the sense of loss or castration at the hands of
the prohibitive dictatorship. The relatively conservative use of the film medium
in the 19803 reflects society’s reorganization not around divisive political themes
and past trauma, but rather around consensus and common goals including the
pursuit of personal satisfaction in the form of wealth and/or pleasure. The films
of Pedro Almodovar serve as an obvious exception in the 1980s in terms of their
innovation and creativity, but his characters’ firndarnental organization around
desire, as well as the rejection of divisive political themes inserts them securely
into this trend.

Later, certain “reactionary” fihns belied the nature of the pressure exerted
on masculinity in the wake of consumerism. The extremely popular Torrente
series as well as the work of Alex de la Iglesia represent leading male characters
who reject the consumerist ethos of cleanliness, fashion and beauty. A study of
these “anti-heroes” reveals the pressures inherent in the system which thrusted
uponmalecharactersthepressuretocompeteinaconsumeristmarketflratdidnot
recognize the inherent superiority of masculinity as the oedipal patriarchy had.
Rather it demanded that male characters strived constantly for success, revealing a
deep precariousness of masculine status within the consumerist system, while also
demonstrating the impossibility of escaping the state of hyper-individualism and
competitive pursuit of pleasure in which their characters live.

As discussed in this dissertation, the liberation ofdesire in the aftermath of

the dictatorship did not fix the individual to enjoy more completely than his

220

 

 

 

 

predecessors had. In the new context desire became ubiquitous and consumption
a mandate. Constantly bombarded with images of plenitude and the promise of
the satisfaction of one's desires, the male individual was encouraged to engage in
a relentless pursuit of personal satisfaction—a search that seems to preclude in
many cases the possibility of real enjoyment. Happiness often seems to depend
on financial success, one more surgical procedure, or in Roberto Santiago's
satirical vision in Hombres felices, a constant state of solipsistic, pre-oedipal,
orgiastic bliss. Male characters often become unstable and isolated in their
constant pursuit of enjoyment, seeing others as a source of competition or
interference given their preoccupation with the self and with their own happiness
in many films after the Transition. Many seem to long for a resurrection of the
patriarchal hierarchy but lack the willingness or the ability to reconmct with other
menasmalecharactershadinthepast. Perhapsthe "good father" inElbolawho
is content to grant his own son a great deal of freedom, while caring for another's
son as if he were his own, is an indication of the positive direction that personal
fieedom and the expression of desire can have. This father who passes on his
patriarchal inheritance in the form of a tattoo he inscribes on his son's back,
approaches his role with humility and respect for others including his son who
appears not so much as a subordinated character reacting to his relationship with
his father, but rather as a separate, self-aware and caring individual in his own
right.

This dissertation has attempted to trace changes in tendencies in the

representationofmasculinityinSpanishfilmasameansofdrawingnearertoan

221

 

 

 

 

understanding of how various factors, especially prohibition and consumerism,
have acted to alter hegemonic models. Bearing in mind the important political,
social and economic changes that have occurred in Spain, especially the transition
fiom a social order based on prohibition (as was Franco's long dictatorship) to one
based on enjoyment and consumption, radical changes are observed in the
performance of successful masculinity. Attention to hegemonic masculine
representations as well as deviations from these models, is meant as a means of
drawing nearer to an understanding of general pressures exerted on the individual,
but are in no way considered universal, nor is this focus meant to diminish the
importance ofthe exploration and study of marginalized and minority
representations of masculinity in Spain, nor of further study of issues related to
the gaze, performance, and film consmnption practices that explore the possibility
of alternative an “subversive” readings. It is my contention that the transition
fiom a society of prohibition to one of "commanded enjoyment” as is the media-
dominated Spanish society of today, is the primary factor affecting masculine
subject formation in the 20m and early 21“ centuries and it is my hope that this
dissertation provides a fi'amework for further discussion of this extremely

important area of inquiry.

222

 

 

 

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