Manuela

Manuela’s father, a poacher, is shot dead by the lord of the manor. All of a sudden, the proud young woman and her mother are alone in the world and have to look after themselves. Gonzalo García Pelayo’s directing debut is an unconventional mix. It embodies the dream of classical cinema and at the same time celebrates its disintegration in the name of cinematic modernity. When he orchestrates vast expanses of landscape in autumn, or the warmth of sunlight, García Pelayo is completely committed to old-fashioned filmmaking; but the film becomes utterly modern in moments when the young Manuela dances on a grave in a bright red dress – alienation personified (“Verfremdungseffekt”). These aesthetic conflicts fit the circumstances surrounding the birth of this film: One day, while editing the film in Madrid, García Pelayo was passing by a long line of followers of the caudillo, queuing up to pay their last respects to their idol, who was lying in state. To them, it was the end of the world; for Pelayo and millions of others, life was about to begin.

In the presence of Gonzalo García Pelayo.