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
—83→
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 —84→ 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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