Many of you have seen Salvador Dali’s painting Persistence of Memory (the melting clocks) or Rene Magritte’s Treachery of Images (‘This is not a pipe’). Both were key artists in the Surrealist movement, characterised by the dream-like and unexpected juxtapositions of imagery. These perplexing works may be the exact justification for some of you to condemn ‘modern art’ (a broad but rather useful generalisation): calculated to shock but absolutely meaningless. But much of the entertainment nowadays is ‘odd’ or ‘illogical’ and yet we clearly enjoy it. The commonplace of ‘weirdness’, I believe, is due to one man.

Buñuel (1900- 1983) was the first Surrealist filmmaker. His first film, Un Chien Andalou, was made in Paris with Dali. The images, such as ants crawling out of a man’s palms, are unforgettable. The opening scene remains one of the most shocking moments in cinema history. They followed up with the satiric L’Age D’Or. Its allusion of a Christ-like figure participating in an orgy caused the film to be branded the film as blasphemous and was banned. After the Spanish Civil War, Buñuel left in exile for the USA briefly and settled in Mexico. During this period, most of his films stuck with box-office conventions. However, it allowed Buñuel to perfect his technique. Some gems can be found, such as the blend of social realism and surrealism in Los Olvidados. Buñuel eventually returned to France, worked with Jeanne Moreau in Diary of a Chambermaid, and later Catherine Deneuve in Belle de Jour and Tristana. He made his last trilogy of films- Oscar-winning Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, Phantom of Liberty, and Obscure Object of Desire- and retired in 1977, having reached an auteur status.

Buñuel wasn’t a blind provocateur. He was constantly critical of the Catholic Church, as shown in the upfront assault of the Church colliding with necrophilia and rape in Viridiana. He persistently mocked the morals of the bourgeoisie. Sexual repression was also a common theme, notably in Belle de Jour with its sexual fetish and masochistic overtones. Though such descriptions seem outrageous, the images are mild in modern standards and often implicit. Buñuel’s use of surrealism is essential in expressing his beliefs, it allows him to provoke and mock his targets, to create clear comparisons, or simply makes it easier for the audience to watch (but not to digest). Buñuel was also an experimental storyteller- his last trilogy were highly unconventional stories, based on loosely connected or recurring events.

Buñuel has influenced cinema immensely. Cult director David Lynch (Mulholland Drive) is the heir to cinematic surrealism, his films featuring dream-like yet menacing sequences and seemingly undecipherable narrative structures (see Lost Highway for a mindtrip). Others such as Czech animator Jan Svankmajer and counter-culture icon Alejandro Jodorowsky also followed the tradition, but surrealism exists beyond art house cinema. Terry Gilliam’s films (Brazil) are full of surrealist imagery. More recently, Michel Gondry’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind sports a unique visual and narrative style. Even films that are not staunchly surrealist have surrealist moments- the toilet in Trainspotting for example, or the quirkiness in Amélie.

Surrealism is in ‘low culture’ too- the (previously) (critically-maligned) television. The British series The Prisoner was inherently surreal, touching storylines such as hypnosis and mind control. Lynch’s Twin Peaks was groundbreaking mainstream television- who could forget the dancing midget? The Sopranos dedicated entire episodes to dreams- remember how Tony got food poisoning and somehow discovered Big Pussy was a rat? MTV brought us innovative visuals and filmmaking (and the ‘style versus substance’ debate…). Surrealism also developed a new branch of comedy. Monty Python is the godfather of absurdity. For the Americans, David Letterman made absurdity ‘clever’ and ‘alternative’, and influenced others including Jon Stewart and Conan O’Brien. Indeed, the word ‘surreal’ is no longer only used to describe what one sees, but also the situation one experiences. ‘Surreal’ and ‘absurd’ are now synonymous.

I may seem to be only commenting on the influence of surrealism in pop culture, or maybe I’m neglecting the contributions of other Surrealists (Dali is a household name after all). Perhaps Freud is responsible for all this. He brought us the concept of the unconscious, dream-work and our hidden sexuality- all naturally interesting and scandalous. Or maybe surrealism’s popularity is just evidence of the 20th Century mentality of rebellion and radicalism.

Most importantly, film and television are part of the media. Its evolution has transformed us into rampant consumers wanting to experience something new. Surrealism, being intrinsically irrational, fulfils this urge and is abundant in pop culture. Surreal moments in film and television continue to mystify audiences, but people nowadays expect that it’s meant to be like that. People no longer simply react with absolute bafflement or feel they’re cheated, but conclude what they’re seeing as either ‘cool’ or ‘weird’. Some will even analyse the meaning of such scenes, assuming they shed light to the plot and characters.

It’s this domestication of surrealism that I believe is indebted to Buñuel. It’s undeniable that people are more receptive of art through the media rather than traditional means- to put it simply, most people prefer to watch TV or go to the movies rather than visit an art gallery. Buñuel should be remembered alone for being the pioneer for bringing surrealism to the media, to show that the mainstream could accept surrealism. Furthermore, and perhaps ironically, Buñuel showed that surrealism is capable of coherence, that it was possible to use surrealism to tell stories, and not solely for abstract visual experimentation. Filmmakers now follow his example and use surreal sequences to aid the plot or convey moods, themes or motivations of characters.

So the next time you see something ‘bizarre’ on TV or in the cinema, just remember that without Buñuel, we’d probably think it’s just rubbish. 

The National Film Theatre is hosting a retrospective of Buñuel’s works.