Ten Days of Terror!: Santa Sangre

Films: Santa Sangre
Format: DVD from Rock Island Public Library through interlibrary loan on laptop.

So how the hell do I explain Santa Sangre? I’ve only seen one Jodorowsky film before this one, but I know enough about him and his various cinematic visions that I knew at least a little of what to expect going in. Jodorowsky is all symbolism, and because of this, the actual film is, to quote Nolahn, one of the only podcasters I listen to, “crazy town.”

And yeah, this is straight up crazy town. Tons of symbolism, tons of hallucinations, and since much of it takes place in a traveling carnival/circus, there’s a lot of that shit going on, too. It’s also almost entirely Oedipal. I get that there are people who actually buy that is a legitimate way to discuss human psychology, but I don’t. Whenever a film takes a Freudian approach to anything, there’s a part of my brain that simply rebels. No matter how pretty or weird or symbolic this film gets, some of me things that the Freudian stuff downgrades it.

Try it with Peyote

Film: El Topo
Format: DVD from NetFlix on big ol’ television.

I try not to complain too much about the films I watch, but sometimes I just can’t help myself. El Topo is going to be one of those times. Let me put it this way: El Topo broke my DVD player. It was fine a couple of days ago, and now, suddenly, the remote has stopped working (it’s not the battery; I checked) and the play button on the machine itself no longer takes the film off pause. I may use this opportunity to upgrade to a Blu-ray player, as I am apparently the only person in the world without one. And Christmas is coming anyway, so that might top my list. But for now, it means that this will be the last DVD on the big ol’ television for some time.

How in the holy fuckballs do I explain El Topo, though? I have no idea how to piece this damn thing together. It feels like the natural child of a film like Un Chien Andalou, but that one actually made more sense and didn’t have the discourtesy to run for just over two hours. El Topo has the sort of violence that’s expected in a Western, but makes about as much sense as marimba-playing swordfish. For the life of me, I have no idea what the hell I just watched.