From Biblioteca Virtual Miguel de Cervantes, Theadore Sackett writes:
Just
as in Galdós' version Tristana ceases to write in
the language of love which earlier characterized her will
of personality, Buñuel's Tristana towards the end
of the film ceases to speak; we hear only the incessant clop-clop
of her crutches up and down the hallway, like the sound of
a caged animal. In the final scene, with the dying D. Lope,
we hear only the abrasive metallic sound of the opening of
curtains, symbolizing the opening of the window of what she
thinks is her liberation.
Although
Andrés Amorós asserts that 80% of the plot
of the film is entirely new, it is important to note that
despite many changes made by the filmmaker reflecting his
typical idiosyncrasies, most of his innovations are elaborations
of motives present but unemphasized in the novel. For example,
Buñuel focuses on a scene in the novel when Tristana
and Saturna visit the latter's son Saturno; but he appropriates
for his central characterization of the boy something that
in Galdós was a mere detail, the incident of passing
a group of blind and deaf-mute children in the street (p.
47). Galdós had commented on the startling spectacle
of observing how the deaf-mutes speak without words, and
Buñuel uses this as one of his chief symbolic devices.
Buñuel's Freudian interest
in Tristana's simultaneous attraction for and innate fear
of D. Lope comes from Galdós' dialogue, in which D.
Lope
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recalls the terror felt by the infant girl when
her future seducer would parade her around the house in his
arms, showing her the symbolic trappings of his assumed persona,
his lion and tiger skins, and portraits of beauties (p. 91).
Even the typically Buñuelian obsession with Tristana's
artificial limb, a combination of the sensual and the grotesque,
is suggested by Galdós' word pictures of Tristana
playing the harmonium with one foot and other images of her
implied sensuality (p. 193).
A
film critic in Spain, Ed Rab (Reus), has described the manner
in which Catherine Deneuve portrays the metamorphoses of
Tristana in the film.108 She appears first as an adolescent,
gawky and small-townish; later, half-amused, half-surprised,
she receives D. Lope's first kiss; then, an anguished Tristana,
frightened by nightmares; afterward, a Tristana surprised
by her own weakness in accepting a date with Horacio, a complete
stranger; Tristana subsequently appears embittered when she
realizes her impotence to retain her lover without relying
on compassion, after the operation; next, the sadistic Tristana,
exposing herself on the balcony to excite and torment Saturno;
finally, the triumphant, vengeful Tristana who pretends to
call the doctor and anxiously awaits the death of the man
she hates. These photo-like changes constitute a new manner
of presenting the metamorphoses that Galdós depicted
through other means.
From
this point I shall trace Buñuel's process of creating
and destroying personalities, as reconstructed from the film's
script, published in book form in 1971.109 The script indicates
that the film begins in any cold month of 1929. When the
camera takes us to D. Lope's house, the worn-out curtains
and threadbare sheets elicit feelings of decadence (p. 25).
The protagonist's first words express his antireligious views.
He wants to cure the young Tristana of her superstitions,
as she fingers the crucifix of her recently deceased mother
(p. 27).
The next day, more
is revealed, not trough dialogue but via a brief action.
D. Lope expresses his peculiar anarquism and distaste for
the police as symbols of authority, by abetting the escape
of a petty thief (p. 29). Two additional images reveal other
facets of his personality. Saturna, while looking at the
gallery of portraits of women he has seduced, comments on
his donjuanesque exploits, admiring his archetypal identification
and affirming that he is a good man, except for his madness
regarding women. Soon afterward, his friend D. Cosme comes
to consult about a duel in which D. Lope is asked to be judge;
he is as in Galdós a kind of high priest of traditional
honor (p. 33).
But unlike
Galdós' Tristana, Buñuel's is possessed of
an intrinsic sexuality which predates her seduction. On several
occasions she observes the onanistic behavior of the deaf-mute
aturno (p. 42), and sexual games are attempted with her in
the belltower of the cathedral (p. 36). The real suddenly
merges into the surreal, as the clapper of the churchbell,
which first appears in the form of an enormous phallus, becomes
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the severed head of D. Lope. The afternoon's visit has
been transformed cinematographically into a nightmare from
which Tristana awakens screaming (p. 37). It is a presentiment
of what is to come; she is afraid of D. Lope, yet anticipates
that he will ultimately become the victim.
If
in Galdós the contrast between appearances and reality
was achieved mainly through literary echoes combined with
humor and irony, in Buñuel the effect is produced
by juxtaposing successive «images». First we see D. Lope
in his «tertulia» explaining that in affairs of love, there
is no sin and there are no rules of honor (p. 41). Immediately
following is a domestic scene in which D. Lope gives what
little food he has to his ward Tristana (p. 45).
Tristana's
native willfulness and sexuality are portrayed indirectly
through several variations on a single motif: she is constantly
making choices between things which seem identical. She asks
D. Lope which of several apparently identical columns he
likes best (p. 51); while eating garbanzos, she separates
them and tries to find the best one (p. 60); and while strolling
through the timeless city with Saturna, sees two identical
streets and asks which one the servant likes best (p. 63).
Amidst these motives, suddenly, with no apparent connection
with what came before, we observe D. Lope arranging for Saturna
to leave early. He then appears in Tristana's bedroom, where
she undresses wordlessly with eyes inflamed, according to
the script, and the image fades out with D. Lope dislodging
a dog from the bed and closing the door (p. 55). The juxtaposition
of the motif of Tristana's willfulness with the ensuing scene
creates the idea in the viewer that one cannot be sure who
does the seducing of whom.
The
script then indicates that two years have passed; it is now
1931. Workers are on strike and a barrage of stones is thrown
at the attacking police. One of the strikers is the deaf-mute
Saturno. The boy, characterized by an elemental sexuality,
is from this point seen constantly, reappearing in new roles.
This process constitutes another way of achieving the effect
produced by Galdós' utilization of continually changing
literary echoes. Saturno mirrors the attempts of the Second
Spanish Republic to bring about change. But like the Republic,
despite frenetic and constant movement, his actions end in
failure. Each instance of the boy's vain attempts to operate
in the modern world is followed by the return of the camera
to D. Lope's museum-like house, where the protagonist can
no longer hide the ravages of age (p. 57). D. Lope, who lives
badly but is proud of being able to survive without working,
is contrasted with the images of the deaf-mute Saturno, who
futilely takes part in an attempt to build a new social order
in which work is dignified and rewarded (p. 60).
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