The Phantom of Liberty

Toledo, 1808. Napoleon’s army conquers Spain, and the loyal soldiers of the Spanish king, executed in the town square, cry out “Down with liberty!” Do humans prefer oppression? Alongside its engagement with death (through sadomasochism, necrophilia, and gerontophilia), this is the central question in Luis Buñuel’s penultimate film. He was 74 when he directed The Phantom of Liberty, and still managed to fool everyone with a liberated screenplay (co-written with Jean-Claude Carrière) that lacks a continuous plot and instead presents a collection of seemingly random episodes, interwoven in a way that arms the film with Buñuel’s unique arsenal: from surrealist provocations and grotesque human perversions to a frontal assault on bourgeois and Catholic values. As usual, he doesn’t try to please anyone - not film critics, and certainly not those hunting for symbols. Buñuel’s main effort is to unsettle the viewer’s sense of satisfaction. Amid the truly funny situations are deeply disturbing moments, and the intelligent viewer is tasked with deciphering practical logic riddles. Like reality itself, Buñuel’s cinematic world is unpredictable, uncontrollable, must be approached with skepticism, and resists superficial interpretation.