There are a few artists whose entire reputation is essentially built from their penchant for the strange and absurd – David Lynch, Alejandro Jodorowsky and David Cronenberg usually sit atop this pedestal, with their very different styles making them profoundly unique filmmakers, differing in style, but united in their general ambivalence to traditional logic. However, their work can all be traced back to one individual (at least cinematically) – Luis Buñuel, who I, like many other admirers, have consistently praised for being one of the most extraordinary filmmakers to ever work in the medium. Like several canonical icons of cinema, Buñuel’s career is often difficult to analyse in terms of finding a definitive work, with numerous films being representative of his brilliance. It isn’t made any easier by the fact that his work is divided into loose demarcations based on both era and geographical location in which his films were made – he had Spanish, French and Mexican stages, composed of numerous masterpieces, with many of them overlapping and influencing each other in different ways, creating a varied tapestry in the career of one of cinema’s most fascinating stalwarts. The subject of today’s discussion is that of the latter, The Exterminating Angel (Spanish: El ángel exterminador), which saw Buñuel working in Mexico once again, and putting together one of the most brilliantly deranged works of fiction of the 1960s, a daring and darkly comical social odyssey that is as enthralling as it is outright terrifying. Certainly one of his cornerstone works, this film is a complex masterpiece that sees Buñuel questioning many of life’s most unimpeachable truths, as he journeys forward to try and uncover a kind of reality that has been warped by socially-mediated perceptions, and repurposed to be a work of unmitigated genius that once again proves how Buñuel was truly the definitive pioneer of surrealist cinema, even in the last few decades of his prolific career, where he continued to push the boundaries of the form, while still clearly having some fun with his ideas, resulting in a truly magnificent work of alternative storytelling.

Art isn’t only subjective in terms of how each individual interprets it – each one of us have varying relationships with different genres or conventions, and we all extract multiple unique meanings that may often go against our own understandings of what art actually entails, but are all relevant and derive from our own understanding not only of what art can do but also what it can say in terms of the broader socio-cultural discourse. This is most evident in surrealism, which is a genre I am personally in utter admiration of, not only because some of the greatest artists across any medium have come from this movement, but since it often incites some fascinating discussions, even if they remain fully internal within a single individual, with the full scope of surrealist art often being quite difficult to verbalize. I normally tend to approach surrealism through the principle that the longer you look at a work of art and try and account for the form and choices made, the more you grow to understand it, but in the case of this particular genre, this is one of the few times where it is an impingement on the original vision. The more you question these works, the less meaningful they are, losing the mystique through the constant attempts to rationalize, an inherent human tendency drawn from the real world, where everything is supposed to make some kind of sense. No one knew this better than Buñuel, whose work reflected an outright refusal to provide answers – a film like The Exterminating Angel is effective in its overall premise, and where it truly succeeds is in how it completely lacks a direct resolution. Buñuel was a master when it came to building suspense that never abates, and what is even more fascinating is that the director often didn’t feel compelled to even allude to a particular meaning at all, keeping the true intentions quite vague, without detracting from the might of his ideas. This certainly doesn’t mean his films, even those that flirt with absurdism directly, are meaningless or works of fluent nonsense, but rather steadfast compositions of the director’s artistic curiosities and narrative eccentricities, which manifest in stunning ways that consistently keep us entertained, even when they’re so deeply impenetrable. The laissez-faire approach to finding meaning (or rather, the realization that not everything does have some broader explanation) in a film like The Exterminating Angel may seem frustrating (and we’ve seen numerous imitators surrealism with the idea of simply confusing audiences, which is often a case of tragic misunderstanding of both theory and style), but once we realize that this film isn’t striving to give any answers, and do our due diligence by suspending disbelief (but not abandoning it entirely), it becomes an extraordinary experience that fascinates just as regularly as it outright provokes.

The Exterminating Angel is a film that draws you towards it in ways that are singularly unexpected, and often quite uncomfortable in theory. It’s an alluring work, one that carries the rare sensation that can best be described as occurring somewhere between insatiable curiosity and foreboding terror, the feeling of fearing what is lurking just out of sight, but being unable to resist peering around the corner, regardless of what is waiting there for us. Surrealism is a dangerous art form, because not only does it cause us to question reality, it actively encourages a complete dismissal of everything that can be considered conventional. Buñuel was actively interested in the relentless power of a good mystery – he considered it utterly essential and infused it into so much of his work. The Exterminating Angel plays like a combination of a traditional murder mystery, but by way of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, insofar as it looks at the degradation of human society as a result of mass confinement and the growing implausibility of escape, and how these situations gradually cause social graces to fall apart, and be replaced by savagery – and much like the numerous works that have looked at the inner barbarism of our species, this film is built on ambiguities – we never quite know what the cause of the events depicted here are, with the truth being unknown to us in the same way these characters are unable to find any explanation too. Needless to say, this was the entire point, since Buñuel’s interest in challenging the idea of conventional truths was reflected in many of his works. He outright stated that “even today, I’ve no idea what the truth is, or what I did with it”, which implies some deep distrust to traditional structures that seek to define that can be considered reality. It’s a fascinating concept, and something that may appear to be quite intimidating in a film like this, but through the careful guidance of a director whose implicit understanding of the human condition was interwoven with his unique style, it becomes an absolute pleasure to experience, albeit quite a challenging one.

Naturally, this is all heightened for the sake of The Exterminating Angel, which is a film that benefits massively from the assured hand of a filmmaker, whose vision was endless in its creativity, but still exceptionally grounded, anchored within a recognizable reality that is as striking as it is profoundly honest. Allegory is often a fundamental aspect of Buñuel’s work, many of them using symbolism and implication to comment on broader issues, and bring light to some ideas in a way that is far more effective in this form than had it been stated outright. In The Exterminating Angel, we’re presented with a group of bourgeois individuals – they run the gamut of classical pianists, composers, doctors and politicians, all representing the upper-class in various ways. Their pleasure soon turns into terror when they are trapped in the site of their debauchery and excess, the flippancy that previously took for granted now being repurposed as a weapon against them. The Exterminating Angel has some fascinating conversations embedded in it – and naturally, Buñuel doesn’t provide context for any of them, leaving it up to the viewer to determine what they believe the director is saying with this film, extracting our meaning through the vague associations between reality and the world he has created here. In both concept and execution, The Exterminating Angel is extraordinary – employing a large ensemble cast that is composed of distinct personalities who all purposefully blend in the eventual chaos, with the debonair tuxedos and gorgeous ballgowns causing them to become a homogenous entity of desperation by the end of it, and made with a kind of underhanded humour that is more darkly satirical than it is outrageously funny, Buñuel’s work here is undeniably fascinating, and he goes to great lengths to provide entertaining context to a film that would’ve easily faltered had it not been done with such precision and elegance. Even at its most bewildering, The Exterminating Angel is the epitome of restraint, each frame being composed with meticulous detail, all of which go into the construction of this film as one of the most pivotal works of surrealist fiction.

The Exterminating Angel is a staggering work, which is certainly not something that we shouldn’t have expected from a director like Buñuel, who consistent efforts throughout his career weren’t merely to challenge taut boundaries but to genuinely expand cinema beyond the confines of mere traditions. This film stands as one of his most significant works and has been the subject of endless discussion over the past fifty years – and for good reason since it stands as one of the most insightful, fascinating glimpses into human nature ever recorded on film, a bold and unconventional satire that lays claim to some of our deepest idiosyncrasies, portraying them through a complex work that straddles the boundary between surrealism and absurdity, a careful distinction that Buñuel was well-versed in exploring in different ways. He is an artistic Virgil, guiding us through the darkest recesses of our existence, without giving us direct answers, but rather leading us down a path that facilitates our own active engagement with the material. Unlike some of the less-successful individuals that were inspired by Buñuel’s work (with this film in particular being one often cited as an influence), there’s nothing about The Exterminating Angel that leaves us with anything other than deep satisfaction at having witnessed something so effortlessly original, there’s no possible analogue between this and any other work of art. It’s a visceral film that carefully balances dark comedy and horror in an exceptional manner, and converges into a layered portrait of humanity that is relentless in its pursuit to show something deeper. As is the case with many works of surrealism, the audience is put to the test with The Exterminating Angel, and we’re constantly placed in a compromising position, where the answers to some of the most profoundly difficult questions are nowhere to be found. There are so many possible interpretations that can be asserted onto this film, and none of them are validated or denied, resulting in a film that is impenetrable and difficult to understand. Ultimately, the question that needs to be asked isn’t what The Exterminating Angel means exactly, but rather something more simple: does it actually matter?