Film Review: La Novia (2015)

"At the heart of all great art is an essential melancholy", Spanish dramatist Federico Garcia Lorca's own words which also aptly describe La Novia, a new filmic adaptation by Paula Ortiz of his 1932 play, Bodas de Sangre (Blood Wedding), a tragedy which details a bride's indecision when she is torn between her newly-wedded husband, and her lover. I went to see this film at a Spanish cinema in Cadiz this week with friends, and I was not at all disappointed. Although I have never studied this particular play, I am quite familiar with Lorca's other work, having analysed his Romancero Gitano (Gypsy Poetry) at University and his equally influential play, La Casa de Bernarda Alba (The House of Bernarda Alba), at Grammar School.Throughout his work, Lorca's sympathy is always with the lower classes, from which come his protagonists. Lorca's own story is an interesting and melancholic one, coming from a wealthy farming background in Andalucia, and growing to dislike his status of wealth, and identifying instead with the lowly.

Not only was Lorca troubled by his own social identity, he was also homosexual, which, you will see, adds another dimension to his written work and which, along with his status as a political dissident in the Spanish Civil War, led to his brutal assassination at the hands of the Civil Guard. I digress... La Novia is a beautiful film which makes wonderful use of long shots to capture the warm, bare, aridity of Spanish countryside, almost a metaphor for death and devastation which the transgression brings in the story. It was, I imagine, almost a given that this film would win this year's Goya Award for Cinematography, with thanks to Miguel Amoedo. For the average film-goer, the plentiful, expressive shots may lag, and may be seen as "art for art's sake". All the same, one cannot deny the awe they inspire. In terms of the acting, Inma Cuesta is wonderful in the part of the bride, and often looks strikingly like a young Penelope Cruz. Equally great are the bride's love interests; Asier Etxeandia, who plays the husband; and Alex Garcia, who plays Leonardo, the lover. Spanish film aficionados will also be able to recall Luisa Gavasa, a stalwart of Spanish cinema, who stuns with her performance as the husband's mother - a character beset with horrific premonitions of a disastrous marriage. The music, by Shigeru Umebayashi, is also stirring.

Lorca also said in his lifetime that "In Spain, the dead are more alive than the dead of any other country in the world." This new (filmic) lease of "life" for Lorca is clear proof of this statement. As I have already seen, Spain is a country which refuses to forget its past, literary, filmic, or otherwise.