Around the world, there are storytellers who feel it incumbent upon themselves to take deep and lasting looks at the truly unconventional if not downright forbidden.
Of course, these filmmakers come in all shapes, sizes, and subject matters. In the United States, the critically lauded David Lynch has built a career around exploring unsettling ideas just beyond the reach of the socially acceptable via surreal and often dreamlike settings and circumstances. Canadian director David Cronenberg has often examined that mysterious space where science and medicine intersect with the human experience, delivering dark stories that ponder the depths of desire. Similarly, Spanish movie maker Jesús Franco broaches more traditional Horror elements – vampires, werewolves, demonic spirits, etc. – and yet imbues then with new life by super-charging his tales with exploitation and sexuality.
Now, frankly, these examples are still a bit passé when it comes to others, such as the flicks from Spanish storyteller Eloy de La Iglesia. While I’m no expert on his catalogue (to any degree), I can say that I’ve read that a great many of his productions have been described as ‘quinqui’ (or ‘cinema kinki’), a strain of features exploring what some might call the underbelly of society. As such, he touched upon drug use, brutality, sexual depravity, and juvenile delinquency, all of it rendered a bit salaciously with concentration on detail. I don’t think is to say he glamorized bad behaviors to any degree; rather, he strove to shine light on things a bit abnormal from the cinema, and this resulted in a bit of controversy surrounding his various works.
All of this brings us to The Creature (1977), a drama that I’ve read some suggest had a mildly supernatural component which I, unfortunately, see as little more than wishful thinking. From a script written by Enrique Barreiro, The Creature plumbs the psyche of a married couple who’ve struggled for some time to conceive a child only to fail again and again. It stars Ana Belén, Juan Diego, and Claudia Gravy in prominent roles; and – in case you haven’t heard – there’s a fourth star of the – ahem – canine variety. It’s the dog’s inclusion as a potential paramour for the disturbed Bélen that led to the film being snubbed during distribution.
What can I say? It’s a ‘dog eat dog world’ out there.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Married woman miscarries after dog attack. Vacation helps her bond with stray dog of same breed. Her relationship with the dog strains marriage, forcing her to choose between husband and canine companion.”
Of course, these filmmakers come in all shapes, sizes, and subject matters. In the United States, the critically lauded David Lynch has built a career around exploring unsettling ideas just beyond the reach of the socially acceptable via surreal and often dreamlike settings and circumstances. Canadian director David Cronenberg has often examined that mysterious space where science and medicine intersect with the human experience, delivering dark stories that ponder the depths of desire. Similarly, Spanish movie maker Jesús Franco broaches more traditional Horror elements – vampires, werewolves, demonic spirits, etc. – and yet imbues then with new life by super-charging his tales with exploitation and sexuality.
Now, frankly, these examples are still a bit passé when it comes to others, such as the flicks from Spanish storyteller Eloy de La Iglesia. While I’m no expert on his catalogue (to any degree), I can say that I’ve read that a great many of his productions have been described as ‘quinqui’ (or ‘cinema kinki’), a strain of features exploring what some might call the underbelly of society. As such, he touched upon drug use, brutality, sexual depravity, and juvenile delinquency, all of it rendered a bit salaciously with concentration on detail. I don’t think is to say he glamorized bad behaviors to any degree; rather, he strove to shine light on things a bit abnormal from the cinema, and this resulted in a bit of controversy surrounding his various works.
All of this brings us to The Creature (1977), a drama that I’ve read some suggest had a mildly supernatural component which I, unfortunately, see as little more than wishful thinking. From a script written by Enrique Barreiro, The Creature plumbs the psyche of a married couple who’ve struggled for some time to conceive a child only to fail again and again. It stars Ana Belén, Juan Diego, and Claudia Gravy in prominent roles; and – in case you haven’t heard – there’s a fourth star of the – ahem – canine variety. It’s the dog’s inclusion as a potential paramour for the disturbed Bélen that led to the film being snubbed during distribution.
What can I say? It’s a ‘dog eat dog world’ out there.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Married woman miscarries after dog attack. Vacation helps her bond with stray dog of same breed. Her relationship with the dog strains marriage, forcing her to choose between husband and canine companion.”
Those who would dismiss The Creature based entirely on its presence of bestiality would be losing sight of the fact that Barreiro’s script is, actually, a rather good and sometimes tender one when it confronts with the difficulties of a married couple – a man and a woman from different sides of the track, as they say – in securing shared happiness.
Cristina (as played by the luminous Bélen) is the wife of Marcos (Juan Diego), a popular television star with aspirations beyond his feel-good variety show hosting job, ones that might lead to being a contender with the emerging political party of the day. In fact, Marcos is being heavily courted by the upcoming diplomatic brass because he’s so well-known and respected by the little people who make up the home viewing audience; and it’s this social influence that’s beginning to tear at the fabric of his marital relationship. He’s begun an on-again-off-again adulterous relationship with his playful cohost Vicky (Claudia Gravy), one he’s willing to put aside when Cristina announces that she’s almost miraculously become pregnant once more. They’ve had troubles conceiving a child, but now that it looks like they’re about to be blessed Marcos vows to clean up his act in preparation for becoming a father.
Trouble begins to brew when – at a roadside gas station wherein they stopped for a fill-up – Cristina is attacked by a black dog for no discernible reason. While not outwardly injured, she quickly begins to sense contractions, demanding that Marcos rush her to the nearest hospital. Soon, they learn the unfortunate news that she’s lost the child, and her prospects for another pregnancy are dire, indeed.
Saddened by these unforeseen developments, Marcos takes her away for a vacation, hoping that a change of scenery might lift his wife’s spirits. While spending time on the beach under the sun, the couple are approached by another black dog – one who appears almost identical to the canine from earlier – a kind beast who only wants for some attention from the lovely lady. At the end of the holiday and on the drive home, they spy the animal chasing the car, prompting Cristina to insist her husband stop the vehicle so that she can bring the seemingly abandoned beast home with them. Begrudgingly, he agrees, and the new family speeds away.
Once they are back in the normal environment, Marcos begins to notice that his wife is investing more and more time with the dog than she is him. Eventually, she’s taking the faithful Bruno everywhere, and her lack of attention to her spousal duties puts an even greater strain on their relationship. The man reaches his breaking point when he comes home late one evening only to discover that his wife has apparently spent the evening in her wedding gown frolicking in – ahem – some inappropriate ways with the animal, with Bruno now occupying his side of the best and refusing to budge.
There’s a bit more to the unfolding story – the family priest suggests surrendering the dog to a shelter, Marcos rekindles his affair with Vicky, Cristina slumps back into a crippling depression when Bruno briefly falls for one of his own species, etc. – but the second half of the film never quite shakes the foundation of ‘girl-meets-dog, girl-loves-dog, and dog-loves-her-back’ so I’ll dispense with those particulars. For reasons that are never perfectly clear, Cristina has transferred all of her spousal affections to Bruno; and – once it becomes that there’s no way back – she’ll stop at nothing to live out the rest of her days happily at their weekend retreat with man’s best friend instead of man himself. To complicate matters, the lady even becomes pregnant once more; and de la Iglesia never clarifies whether her impending spawn belongs to Marcos – who has raped her as a response to his rejection – or Bruno, though I suspect many will agree that the canine is about to be a daddy.
Cristina (as played by the luminous Bélen) is the wife of Marcos (Juan Diego), a popular television star with aspirations beyond his feel-good variety show hosting job, ones that might lead to being a contender with the emerging political party of the day. In fact, Marcos is being heavily courted by the upcoming diplomatic brass because he’s so well-known and respected by the little people who make up the home viewing audience; and it’s this social influence that’s beginning to tear at the fabric of his marital relationship. He’s begun an on-again-off-again adulterous relationship with his playful cohost Vicky (Claudia Gravy), one he’s willing to put aside when Cristina announces that she’s almost miraculously become pregnant once more. They’ve had troubles conceiving a child, but now that it looks like they’re about to be blessed Marcos vows to clean up his act in preparation for becoming a father.
Trouble begins to brew when – at a roadside gas station wherein they stopped for a fill-up – Cristina is attacked by a black dog for no discernible reason. While not outwardly injured, she quickly begins to sense contractions, demanding that Marcos rush her to the nearest hospital. Soon, they learn the unfortunate news that she’s lost the child, and her prospects for another pregnancy are dire, indeed.
Saddened by these unforeseen developments, Marcos takes her away for a vacation, hoping that a change of scenery might lift his wife’s spirits. While spending time on the beach under the sun, the couple are approached by another black dog – one who appears almost identical to the canine from earlier – a kind beast who only wants for some attention from the lovely lady. At the end of the holiday and on the drive home, they spy the animal chasing the car, prompting Cristina to insist her husband stop the vehicle so that she can bring the seemingly abandoned beast home with them. Begrudgingly, he agrees, and the new family speeds away.
Once they are back in the normal environment, Marcos begins to notice that his wife is investing more and more time with the dog than she is him. Eventually, she’s taking the faithful Bruno everywhere, and her lack of attention to her spousal duties puts an even greater strain on their relationship. The man reaches his breaking point when he comes home late one evening only to discover that his wife has apparently spent the evening in her wedding gown frolicking in – ahem – some inappropriate ways with the animal, with Bruno now occupying his side of the best and refusing to budge.
There’s a bit more to the unfolding story – the family priest suggests surrendering the dog to a shelter, Marcos rekindles his affair with Vicky, Cristina slumps back into a crippling depression when Bruno briefly falls for one of his own species, etc. – but the second half of the film never quite shakes the foundation of ‘girl-meets-dog, girl-loves-dog, and dog-loves-her-back’ so I’ll dispense with those particulars. For reasons that are never perfectly clear, Cristina has transferred all of her spousal affections to Bruno; and – once it becomes that there’s no way back – she’ll stop at nothing to live out the rest of her days happily at their weekend retreat with man’s best friend instead of man himself. To complicate matters, the lady even becomes pregnant once more; and de la Iglesia never clarifies whether her impending spawn belongs to Marcos – who has raped her as a response to his rejection – or Bruno, though I suspect many will agree that the canine is about to be a daddy.
Through all of this madness (there is some obvious political messaging going on but not being up on my Spanish history I can’t make much sense of it), what truly propels the story forward is the work of Bélen. A celebrated actress in her native country, she moves rather delicately through Cristina’s highs and lows, never quite showing the obvious tears at the seams of her womanhood. Despite the obstacles and even the attachment of so much of her esteem to that of the family pooch, she maintains the composure of her high-class upbringing, even occasionally reminding Marcos that her family and friends saw him as being a bit beneath her stature. Diego – in contrast – keeps trying to make sense of Marcos’ life separately and as her would-be suitor, but even he realizes that he cannot stand in the way of the woman still in search of personal happiness when it can’t be found in the home.
As I stated above, I’ve read some commentary online that suggested a kinda/sorta supernatural attachment on the part of the two black dogs featured in The Creature. While I don’t recall the specifics, I believe the inclination was that the gas-mart canine sensed something amiss within Cristina not limited to the health of her unborn child, that perhaps it saw the ‘hole in her existence’ and attacked it on her behalf as she’d buried such hurt deep in her subconscious. Once it had been properly frightened off, this allowed for Bruno to detect a void that needed to be filled; and – as a faithful servant – the dog acted accordingly, perhaps to a fault. While such theorizing is interesting (and it certainly gives the reader something to consider beyond the offensiveness of the evolving sexual relationship between beauty and the beast), I don’t make too much of it myself. Academics like for their to be some explanation to such behaviors, and I’m okay with just concluding that Cristina has serious “doggy issues.”
The Creature (1977) was produced by Alborada P.C. and Guión Producciones Cinematográficas. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish: there was one small sequence that seemed a bit out-of-focus, but I’m not sure whether that was intentional or not. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts two interviews exploring the film through different perspectives along with a brief introduction to the picture from a 2023 special screening. Also worthy of mentioning is the fact that – according to the product packaging – this is the first time this story has been available in North America, likely owed to the controversy it provoked upon its original release in 1977, and that alone might make it worth a glance for some of you. You know who you are.
Recommended.
Here’s the thing, folks: keep in mind that just because I recommend a picture doesn’t in any way mean that it’s going to be for everyone, and that’s definitely the case with Eloy de la Iglesia’s The Creature. A psychological Drama exploring love, loss, and – ahem – bestiality is understandable taboo to the great many readers who traffic in this space on SciFiHistory.Net. Still, I can’t dismiss the fact that there’s a bizarre almost infectious quality to the story as told – with solid performances and some very good cinematography here and there – which pulled me into its spell wanting to know a bit more than, perhaps, the flick tells. Sometimes, such magic alone is worthy of note, and it’s that incantation that can’t quite be denied.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Creature (1977) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
As I stated above, I’ve read some commentary online that suggested a kinda/sorta supernatural attachment on the part of the two black dogs featured in The Creature. While I don’t recall the specifics, I believe the inclination was that the gas-mart canine sensed something amiss within Cristina not limited to the health of her unborn child, that perhaps it saw the ‘hole in her existence’ and attacked it on her behalf as she’d buried such hurt deep in her subconscious. Once it had been properly frightened off, this allowed for Bruno to detect a void that needed to be filled; and – as a faithful servant – the dog acted accordingly, perhaps to a fault. While such theorizing is interesting (and it certainly gives the reader something to consider beyond the offensiveness of the evolving sexual relationship between beauty and the beast), I don’t make too much of it myself. Academics like for their to be some explanation to such behaviors, and I’m okay with just concluding that Cristina has serious “doggy issues.”
The Creature (1977) was produced by Alborada P.C. and Guión Producciones Cinematográficas. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish: there was one small sequence that seemed a bit out-of-focus, but I’m not sure whether that was intentional or not. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts two interviews exploring the film through different perspectives along with a brief introduction to the picture from a 2023 special screening. Also worthy of mentioning is the fact that – according to the product packaging – this is the first time this story has been available in North America, likely owed to the controversy it provoked upon its original release in 1977, and that alone might make it worth a glance for some of you. You know who you are.
Recommended.
Here’s the thing, folks: keep in mind that just because I recommend a picture doesn’t in any way mean that it’s going to be for everyone, and that’s definitely the case with Eloy de la Iglesia’s The Creature. A psychological Drama exploring love, loss, and – ahem – bestiality is understandable taboo to the great many readers who traffic in this space on SciFiHistory.Net. Still, I can’t dismiss the fact that there’s a bizarre almost infectious quality to the story as told – with solid performances and some very good cinematography here and there – which pulled me into its spell wanting to know a bit more than, perhaps, the flick tells. Sometimes, such magic alone is worthy of note, and it’s that incantation that can’t quite be denied.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Creature (1977) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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