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Reviewed by Glenn Erickson
Yet another example of an obscure masterpiece unearthed by DVD, The Saragossa Manuscript is
a 1965 Polish fantasy epic physically set in Spain but actually happening in the mind of its
imaginative author. Adapted from an early 19th century book, the show is part Luis Borges,
part Canterbury Tales, and part Playboy's Girls of Warsaw.
Synopsis:
A pair of soldiers begin reading a book found in a house in the embattled town of Saragossa,
which one of them thinks is about his Grandfather: In the story, Captain Alfons van Worden (Zbigniew Cybulski)
is trying to get to Madrid but is delayed in the Sierra Morena by what seem to be the ghost demons
of two hanged men. In cyclical waking dreams, he's seduced by a pair of Arabian princesses in a
palace hidden under the decrepit Quemada (trans: burned) Inn. Yet every morning, he wakes up back
out in the pass, under the
gallows and its two corpses. Fleeing this dilemma, he's captured by the inquisition but rescued by
some noblemen who invite him to a castle, where for awhile it looks as if his ordeal was all a
planned conspiracy. A passing gypsy tells a tale of the son of a Jewish Merchant, which becomes a
chinese box of overlapping stories inside stories.
Luis Buñuel likes to play with flashbacks hidden within flashbacks, a literary device that's
employed in The Saragossa Manuscript to create a Spain of interlocking destinies
and endless complexity. It eventually coalesces into a humorous portrait of a culture united by its
prejudicial differences. Soldiers mingle with priests who are really sheiks in disguise, and officers
of El Santo Oficio indeed appear when no-one expects them (nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!).
A rake leeches off the son of Jewish merchant, but appearances are deceptive, and both he and
a vagabond Gypsy prove to be honorable souls.
With much less effort (but about 4x the running time) than Simon of the Desert, The Saragossa Manuscript
creates a Spain where the doings of ghosts and devils are as real as the beautifully-recreated
town squares and villas. Every nubile maiden in Poland would seem to have been recruited to play the
various unholy vixens and mortal temptresses met along the way, and their coquettish
games remind us of the narrative tricks the author is pulling on Alfons - and us. Most of the relationships have
aspects of a con in action; to watch the show is to constantly try to figure out what the heck is
going on - whether the weird happenings will be revealed as a conspiracy, or perhaps the trick of
the mind, or if Alfons is a soul already in hell. With the Inquisition popping up unannounced
at any moment, we're almost ready for our hero to be revealed as dreaming the whole plot from
the torture chamber of Terry Gilliam's Brazil. Doors are constantly opening before us, as
if we're sharing Alfons' dream. Potential clues to the mystery are offered: the sheik's
lost shoe, the weird skeleton-like landscape, the drinks Alfons is repeatedly offered (in various
locations) from the same skull-shaped goblet.
Fans who like to graph out the time-level intricacies of the Back to the Future movies will want
pencil and paper handy to take notes: the flashbacks go far deeper than in anything else Savant
has seen,
indicating that Jan Potocki must have been having great fun dreaming up such a twisted pretzel of
a plot. No sooner does one story begin, than a character in it begins telling another
story. The tangents overlap and confusion is inevitable; not only is it difficult to figure out
how storyteller #2 would learn the particulars of the tale told by storyteller #4, but it's impossible
to keep them straight anyway. The good news is that the stories don't lead into conceptual cul-de-sacs,
but pay off in the kind of ribald good humor that one would expect from a classic
farce.
Zbigniew Cybulski is a buffoonish hero, very unlike the ultra-cool rebel he played for Andrej Wajda in
Ashes and Diamonds (Cybulski
has the honor, along with Jack Lord in Dr. No, of having some of the earliest publicity stills showing
the modern man dressed cool by wearing not a hat, but sunglasses). All the other roles are fun, especially
Zdzislaw Mkalakiewicz as the manipulative rake who, happily does not turn out to be a demon like
so many of the other characters. A number of very attractive and alluringly-clad actresses
decorate the screen in this old-fashioned, male-oriented adventure.
The film is very good-looking, filmed in anamorphic B&W. 1
Director Has' camera moves constantly and well; he's a very good director. There are some stylistic
flourishes at the end involving a mirror and a doppelganger world that might indicate time travel
as well as a literal 'literary distance'; these are intriguingly handled and pitched at a tone
consistent with the rest of the film. Watching the movie means enduring 3 hours of Spaniards speaking
Polish subtitled in English - it's broken down into two parts, which helps. But it's not the easiest film
to watch or, especially with this crazy continuity, to follow.
The music uses several classical cues and several instances of Spanish guitar source music. A few
Forbidden Planet-like electronic warblings find their way in but seem right at home in the weird
fantasyscape.
Image Entertainment's DVD of The Saragossa Manuscript is presented with the flourish of its
1998 micro-release, using a Fillmore West-like poster to make the film seem as if Jerry
Garcia (whose ardor for the film extended to paying for part of its restoration) directed it himself.
The DVD includes some nice stills, an isolated music track, and very informative liner notes
by Darren Gross. These were especially helpful when I became hopelessly confused at around the 30
minute mark. Included in the liner booklet is an attempt to graph out some of the nested flashbacks
in the film's plot; and an essay by Alan Trist, a publisher who remembers when Jerry Garcia saw the
film for the first time. Trist mentions a scene that Jerry was 'tickled with' - that turned
out, curiously, not to be in the movie. But it's no mystery to Savant. From the description given
by Trist, the movie in question is Roberto Gavaldon's 1960 Macario, from Mexico. Hopefully
Trist just got the story wrong, and the whole legend of the Garcia endorsement of
The Sargossa Manuscript isn't based on the wrong film!
On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor,
The Saragossa Manuscript rates:
Movie: Excellent
Video: Good
Sound: Good
Supplements: Stills, isolated music
Packaging: Keep case
Reviewed: March 27, 2002
Footnotes:
1. The disc has ovaloid
changeover cues, indicating a 'scope film. But
the aspect ratio is about 2:1. It's difficult to tell if the show was
cropped on the sides, because all the compositions look fine. Perhaps this is a Polish variation on
SuperScope or something similar? Return
DVD Savant Text © Copyright 2007 Glenn Erickson
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