Santa Sangre (1989)

 

Santa Sangre (1989) is a film thats a bit out of my wheelhouse. Its an Arthouse Mexican horror film, done by Chilean director Alejandro Jodorowsky, loosely based on a Mexican serial killer. This came to my attention when I was asked to fill in for an absent host for the "Decades of Horror: 1980s" podcast, and this was the film they were covering. I agreed, and quickly had to go home and watch the film. We recorded the next day, but I still hadn't sorted out all my feelings about the movie yet... and so I decided to write this up in an effort to make sense of it all. 

Jodorowsky is a mystic, a surrealist, an artist, an actor, a director, a writer... He is exactly the sort you think of when you think of the stereotypical "Artiste" Film Director. That said, I hadn't seen any of his other films, thought I had heard, vaguely, of El Topo (1970) and The Magic Mountain (1982). I was also familiar with his work in reconstructing the original form of the Tarot of Marseilles, seeking out the earliest versions of the cards and imagery, and his work in comic books, particularly The Incal and Metabarons, which had impressive European releases... And so going into the film, I expected a couple main things: Striking visuals, Mystical undertones, a dreamlike atmosphere, and lots of symbolism.

I was not wrong.

If you follow me at all, you know I'm not keen on horror films about ordinary murderers, or slashers. Give me something supernatural, something mythic. I love a monster... humans are monsters, but they are the most familiar of monsters. To see a human monster, all one needs to do is turn on the news. Even excellent films about human murderers leave me a bit cold. I appreciate Psycho (1960) and Peeping Tom (1960) and even The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), but I won't really seek them out, and on some level, I even find them boring. 

Santa Sangre shares DNA with all of those three film, but its got layers of symbolism and imagery to let my mind play with, and keep it engaged far beyond those other films. Its a colorful film, reminding me in some places of Dario Argento's work. There is at least one scene which directly parallels Italian giallo, when a woman is brutally murdered and you only see the hands of her assailant. 

It is difficult to talk about this film without spoilers, so... I give you this warning: From this point, HERE BE SPOILERS. Proceed if you do not care, but there are twists coming that I need to process and talk about, and if you want to experience the film fully, go watch it and then come back and join me here to work out our shared issues.

Ready?

Ok, a rough synopsis is: A young Circus performer, who was traumatized at a young age by the brutal death of his father and maiming of his mother, escapes from the mental hospital he is kept in, and acts as his maimed mother's 'arms', committing murders at her command.

This both is and isn't the film. That is the most simplistic explanation of what is happening, but there is so much more. 

Lets look first at the definition of surrealism. in 1924, French artist Andre Breton defined the term in his work The Surrealist Manifesto as "pure psychic automatism, by which one proposes to express, either verbally, in writing, or by any other manner, the real functioning of thought. Dictation of thought in the absence of all control exercised by reason, outside of all aesthetic and moral preoccupation."  

This rather heady definition is clarified and re-expressed on the webpage of the Tate Gallery as "Surrealism aims to revolutionise human experience. It balances a rational vision of life with one that asserts the power of the unconscious and dreams. The movement's artists find magic and strange beauty in the unexpected and the uncanny, the disregarded and the unconventional."

Surrealists such as Andre Breton, Salvador Dali, and Luis Bunuel inspire Alejandro Jodorowsky and it shows in this film. The film is seemingly grounded in reality, but a very strange, off-kilter reality that in infused with a sense of dread. It was like watching a nightmare unfold across the screen in a very real sense. The Mexico City of Jodorowsky is not a typical urban landcape, but a strange world where there is always a performance happening, whether it is the 'Circus del Gringo' where our story starts, or the gospel singing choir outside the cult church, or the ongoing all-night street festival where prostitutes and citizens alike dance and make merry in a dingy plaza. But far from being a cheerful thing, it makes the setting a bit nightmarish. These are not happy people enjoying their lives, these are the damned, trying to forget they are in Hell. 

There is a constant through-line in this film of performance. Nearly every scene takes place either partially or fully in some sort of entertainment venue. The Circus, a Burlesque House, a Wrestling Ring, A film on television playing on a reconstructed movie set, at a piano, on a small private stage. The Shrine of the Santa Sangre (Holy Blood), is also arguably performative in nature, as Concha tells the Bishop the story of their saint while showing him the paintings of her martyrdom, and their arguement over the reality of their pool of sacred blood. Even the Elephant's funeral is played as a performance, from its New Orleans Jazz Funeral style procession to the eventual casting of the coffin into the landfill, where an onlooking crowd cheers and then breaks open the casket, stripping the meat from the carcass and passing it around... literally an audience consuming the performance. This even echoes the cult of the Santa Sangre, where one presumes that they have a ritual of communion.

It occurs to me also that we see something of the history of cinema here as well. On display, Alma is a deaf mute, who communicates through mime... which echoes Silent film nearly perfectly. Her white painted face and exagerrated gestures doing the work of communication where sound cannot. We see an homage to Universal's The Invisible Man in a lengthy scene, where Fenix re-enacts parts of it while it plays on television, in a carefully reconstructed stage laboratory. At the end of this scene, he pushes wide a door, opening the "set" to a vast open area, where his mother waits at the top of a massive stone stairway that reminded me of the ones seen in Dracula (1931) and Frankenstein (1932). There was the aformentioned scene that was reminiscent of the Italian giallo films of the 70s, and the scene in which the Pimp lead Fenix and the Down Syndrome boys to the street party with the prostitutes had me thinking of West Side Story (1961). 

More subtly, there is a mingling of performance and religion. In an early scene, we have a choir and band singing outside the Shrine of Santa Sangre. Jodorowsky utilized a genuine 40 member choir of blind singers for the scene, where they sang a religious song. They are colorful and it calls to mind a mariachi band, but mixed with a religious content. Inside, the sanctuary is dressed as a stage, with long red curtains, and the large pool of red water... while on the walls is a series of painting telling the story of their saint. Concha explains that her blood stained the water of the pool, and it has remained wet in a holy miracle... while the Bishop touches the waters and dismisses it as merely red paint. Which of these views are correct? That of the believers or the skepticism of the Bishop? We are not told directly, but given the staged qualities of the rest of the film, I would speculate it WAS paint... but that does not affect the belief of the congregation. We can say the same about the elephant funeral... the Casket is dropped from the cliff to the cheers and applause of the onlookers. In that aspect it is entertainment, but at the same time it provides food... almost literally 'Manna from Heaven' for them. When we see Concha and Fenix's performance in the Burlesque show, she is telling a story which is essentially that of Adam and Eve, and the Serpent. Again, that marriage of Religion and Art. 

The religious imagery is almost as present. The appearance of Fenix in the Mental Hospital is decidedly Christ-like... and the fish he chooses as his meal reminds one of the story of the loaves and fishes in the Bible. But this is also mixed with another frequent visual motif in this film, of Birds. I'm still puzzling over what the birds represent. We see them frequently or implied frequently. Concha's costumes often have feathers on them. We see a white swan emerge from the grave of one of Fenix's victims and fly away. At another point he hallucinates roosters. In one of his magic tricks, he tries to mirror his vision of the swan in the grave, by saying he will transform a rather stage-prop looking mummy into 100 white doves. He fails and instead conjures his mother in this performance, the confusion of his audience. At the end, when Alma shows him the reality of his mother, it is another "stage prop", and this time it is covered in pigeons. So... in a way, he really did bring his mother back from the dead, but in an inferior way, as pigeons would be to doves. 

Again, this touches on belief, as well. Fenix BELIEVES his mother is alive, just as he believe that Aladin, his childhood friend, is with them as well. He has surrounded himself with those he loves, at least in his mind. He apparently idolizes the invisible man... which is an interesting take for a performer to have. However, it makes a sort of sense that, in his act, if he is mannipulating a marionette version of his mother, and using his own arms as hers, it would create a more effective illusion of life for the puppet is he WAS invisible. And in that way, she is more truly alive, which is what he seeks.

When I spoke earlier of the inhabitants of this film being "the damned", I was not being entirely metaphorical. practically every character we meet is a genuinely horrible person, in one way or the other. There is something 'off' about all of them. Physically, mentally, emotionally, morally, or even spiritually, every person depicted is somehow outside what is perceived as 'normal'. Terrible things happen to nearly everyone... and you, as a viewer, don't really mind seeing it, because we have established that they usually deserve what happens to them. 

There are a couple key exceptions.

First, there is the elephant. The Elephant has done literally nothing wrong. It is simply a part of the circus and is especially beloved by Fenix and his friend, the little person Aladin. It is genuinely traumatic to see the bloody death of this poor elephant... You share the trauma of it with Fenix. It is REALLY upsetting to watch. It is also his first step toward the madness that encompasses him. In many ways, the death of this elephant is what really unhinges him.

In the documentary Forget Everything You Have Ever Seen: The World of Sante Sangre (2011), Jodorowky talks about Elephants, and waxes very metaphysically about how an elephant appears in the Muladhara Chakra, or Root Chakra, and how it is a symbol of the strength of the Earth. He talks about travelling to India specifically to ride and elephant, and that was when he understood the powerful strength of this Chakra in grounding one. It is no surprise then to see Young Fenix in the film, riding the elephant early on... and then when the elephant dies, he becomes a bit untethered. It opens him to what happens next.

His father, Orgo, after the funeral, brutally tattoos Fenix with a phoenix on his chest, to 'Make him a man.' In short, he is trying to replace that grounding root Chakra with a bird. This is very deliberate. In the Chakra system, the Eagle or Hawk represents the Heart Chakra, Anja, the Third Eye. It opens visualization, or imagination. This is the next part of Fenix's ordeal... Jodorowsky is implying that he has lost his grounding, but had his imagination opened wide in its place. And indeed, from this point, things become much more strange and imaginative. He is impersonating a bird of prey in the mental hospital, to the level of sitting in a tree in his waking hours, and sleeping in a nest-like bed, or eating raw fish like an eagle would. It is also worth noting that the same tattoo is on his Father's chest. 

Orgo is played by Guy Stockwell to sleazy, greasy, alcohol addled perfection. He is the 'Gringo' of the Circus del Gringo (or amusingly 'The White Guy's Circus). He is the only American in the cast, and he plays a sterotype of an ugly American. He is fat, unkept, tasteless, careless, flashy, violent, and... has a strange appeal to some. His costume is all sequines and cowboy hats. He is unfaithful to his wife, but exercises a hypnotic, magnetic influence over her. 

In some ways, the tattoo of the bird binds the father and son together. It is speculated early on that Orgo fled the United States after he killed a woman. This is very much true of his son. His son ALSO becomes a killer of women. Fenix also develops an unhealthy fascination with Concha which is ultimately mutually destructive. 

Fenix struggles with his affliction through the film. He knows what he is doing is wrong, is evil, but he seems possessed more by the influence of his mother. Like Norman Bates, his murderous impulses are filtered through the personality of his mother: a religious fanatic with a very strange personal saint. We get the impression that he knows he is almost possessed when he acts as his mother's arms. She has become one with her armless saint, and enacts a sort of retribution against others. She is an avatar of the Santa Sangre. But as we have seen, the performative quality of the cult calls into question its reality. This is a stage show of religion, a false front pretending to be something else.

But that brings us to the most genuinely pure character in the entire work; Alma. Alma is a young deaf mute acrobat in the circus, the daughter of the Tattoed Lady who Orgo has his affair with. She is a sweet presence in white face makeup who establishes a comforting relationship and friendship with young Fenix. The two of them are quite sweet and gentle and innocent together. Jodorowsky manages a wonderful trick in that, no matter what horrible thing is happening on screen, when you see Alma in her white makeup, you suddenly feel calm and at ease. She is a peaceful presenvce in the otherwise nightmarish world of the film. 

Once Concha is mutilated, and Orga kills himself, Fenix sees the Tattoes Woman flee the circus, dragging Alma after her. 

I knew this was significant but I couldn't quite figure out how until I heard Jodorowsky speaking in the documentary I mentioned, and he revealed that the name 'Alma' in Spanish means 'soul.'

It all clicked into place. Fenix has lost his elephant, the grounding, was tortured until that totem was replaced by a kind of bird, unlocking his imagination. His mother was mutilated, and we discover later, murdered, and his father emasculated and then dies by suicide.... and then... His soul is taken away from him. 

While the majority of the film is focussed on Fenix.... there is a significant amount focused on Alma as well. We reconnect with her after we see her mother among the prostitutes in the Street Carnival scene. Fenix himself sees her during his 'field trip' with the Down syndrome patients. This encounter is what seems to drive Fenix to escape, because it is shortly after this that he sees his mother outside the hospital and escapes. He then begins his own series of performances with her in the Burlesque house and readopts his magician's guise. 

The Tattoed Woman attempts to prostitue Alma, who escapes by smashing a bottle over the head of her would be rapist and making her way out the window. In this way, she actually escapes the fate of the Santa Sangre and remains pure. But she is definitely undergoing a harrowing experience... Not only does she need to avoid her rapist, but she must avoid all these strange people in the streets. One man removes his own ear and rubs it on her face as she attempts to pass. She has NO ALLIES in this world. As I said, this is a world of the Damned, and Alma is a pure soul, trying to make her way safely and uncorrupted through it. 

We see aspects of her journey, but not the whole thing. She finally spots the burlesque theater and recognizes Fenix from his photo... and decides to seek him out. When she does find his home, she sneaks inside, and puts on a version of her old makeup and costume. She seeks out Fenix in a final confrontation.

To say that this scene is moving is really understating the power of it. Fenix is caught between the corrupt, false religious fervor of his mother... and the pure love of a pure soul in Alma. It is worth noting that while Concha is always screaming for him to kill Alma (and he is her arms, holding the knives of his father), Alma never shows fear... nor anger... nor hatred. She always just steps out of the way of his attacks, and holds out her arms as if ready to just hold him. Her way of fighting back is to NOT fight back. She embodies the gentleness that a mother or a lover should. Forgiving, not condemning.

She doesn't attempt to flee. She is accepting. The battle is not hers, but Fenix's. And when he finally is able to exorcise the spirit of his mother, by stabbing her. Alma simply embraces him comfortingly. And in fact, all the the figures who were of comfort to Fenix in his life... The clowns of the circus, Aladin, the Elephant... they all return to comfort him at this point as well. She shows him the reality of what has happened. Again there is a strange sort of balancing act. Alma represents the true religious soul, appearing quietly, and in the disguise of a mime. She is however REAL despite appearing as an entertainer. Concha was the corrupt religious figure, shouting loudly and demading blood, while seeming to wield real power. And she is revealed to not be real at all. She is a puppet masquerading as a real person. And Fenix is finally able to see that when he is reunited with his True Soul. She strips away the performance. She not only shows him the manniquin of his mother, but she gently peels away the false nails her wore, symbolocally taking away his mother's power over his arms and returning them to him.

This is driven home as they walk outside where the police are waiting for them. She smiles at him encouragingly, and raises her arms, signalling for him to do the same. He raises his arms and to his delight sees that they ARE his arms again, and not his mothers. Despite all the horrors of the film, this is a shockingly upbeat ending.We are not often treated to the redemption of a villain in a horror film, but this one provides it.

It is worth noting that film critic Roger Ebert praised this film for just that reason... he found it ultimately a redemptive story in a sea of films that seemed to celebrate evil. And indeed that is what Jodorowsky seemed to be going for. He made the acquaintance of a multiple murderer, who was ultimately "cured" in an asylum, and released back into the public where he lived the rest of his life as a model citizen, claiming to remember nothing of the time when he did those killings. The idea of that sort of a redemption intrigued Jodorowsky and led him to write the story, along with Roberto Leoni, and joined with Claudio Argento (brother of Dario) in the screenplay.

It even made Empire Magazine's list of the top 500 Films of all times.

Which is not to say its a perfect film. Its not. There ARE some things that just don't work. I'm thinking of the scene in which Fenix is asked out by a lady at a shop, and as he turns away, he hallucinates about a massive snake emerging from his pants which he has to wrestle with. This is a bit of an 'on-the-nose' metaphor for wrestling with his own libido, and is equally clumsy as a religious metaphor given we have seen his performance with Concha where they talk about the serpent in the Garden of Eden. It is hoewever possible that this was MEANT to be a bit of campy humor in the same vein as the name 'Circus del Gringo' was. 

There are many aspects of the film with are uncomfortable and almost seem gratuitous. Partly this may be due to Jodorowsky's love of 'kitchen sink' directing, where he hears about someone unusual or strange and just threw it in the production. 

That said, the filming is beautiful. The color usage is vibrant. The world seems fully realized even if it is a dark, grimy, and unpleasant place. This is one of the few times I have seen Dutch angles used in the late 20th century to good effect.

I came out of the film with a confusing mix of feelings about it. On the one hand, I felt repelled by many aspects of it. As I said, I dislike horror films about murderers, as they are all too real. However, the dreamlike quality, even if nightmarish, drew me in. The layers of meaning, the symbolism, the visual metaphors, and the performances kept me thinking about it LONG after the film was over. THAT is something I like. I love a film that makes me think about it this much. On the other hand, I am uncertain I will revisit it again soon. Its a difficult thing to watch. Its absolutely WORTH watching, but it needs a lot of time for processing I think.

I'm not sure I did it justice on the podcast, but.... This article helped me to really put some things into focus for myself.