Blu-ray Review: Berlanga's THE EXECUTIONER, A Satirical Masterpiece

I'll be the first to admit that my knowledge of Spanish classical cinema is meager at best. I'm quite familiar with some of the modern directors like Almodovar and de la Iglesia, but before the '80s, I'd be hard pressed to name a great film or filmmaker from the region outside of Victor Erice's Spirit of the Beehive.

Still, I've always found the history of Spain under the fascist rule of General Francisco Franco to be fascinating, especially as it's been depicted in modern films like Guillermo del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth and Alex de la Iglesia's The Last Circus. It was that promise of a first person view of Franco's Spain that drew me to The Executioner, and it delivers on that promise in spades.

The Executioner is the story of an undertaker who falls in love with the daughter of an executioner and who is then forced to take over for his father-in-law when the elder ages out of service. The undertaker, Jose Luis (played by Italian actor Nino Manfredi) is a hapless pacifist for whom the idea of becoming an executioner is antithetical to his weak constitution. However, when his father-in-law Amadeo (Jose Isbert) is forced to retire immediately after the extended family scores a government subsidized apartment for state workers, Jose Luis is forced with a choice. Take over for his father-in-law as the state's executioner, or lose the house and kick his entire family out onto the street.

When he reluctantly chooses the former, his entire life immediately sinks into a quagmire of dread. Jose Luis lacks the detached disposition necessary to be an executioner, he couldn't hurt a fly. However, he is permanently on call, just waiting for the state to bring him up to the big leagues, which imbues his every waking moment with fear. When he finally receives the notice that he has a client in a prison in the resort area of Mallorca, Jose Luis and his family heed teh call and park themselves in a beach side hotel, hoping that the comdemned will receive a stay of execution so that Jose Luis can retain his soul.

The tragicomic story of The Executioner is less about the fear of being forced to kill a man you've never met than it is about the fear that existed in Spanish society regarding the lengths to which one may have to go to maintain the status quo. Jose Luis doesn't become an executioner to better his station in life, even though the pay and perks are pretty decent, he does it because he has to. He is bound by tradition to his family profession, even if he wants nothing to do with it.

As I watched The Executioner I was frequently reminded of Alberto Lattuada's Italian underworld satire, Mafioso. In that story, a newly married man living in Naples with his wife decides to take her down to Sicily in the south to meet his family. While there, the husband gets netted into the family business and is drafted to perform a mafia hit in New York, all while his poor wife is subjected to the perceived savage ways of his Sicilian family. The idea of filial ties forcing young men to absolve themselves of their own morality in order to sate the horrendous obligations of their families is strong in both films, and I wasn't the least bit surprised to hear in the bonus material that Mafioso was a huge influence on The Executioner.

Director Luis Garcia Berlanga is one of Spain's greatest directors and The Executioner stands as one of the most celebrated of his works. With his graceful touch and mastery of mise-en-scene along with his ability to master rapid fire overlapping dialogue makes the film eminently watchable. I cannot recommend this film highly enough.

The Disc:

The Criterion Collection presents The Executioner (El Verdugo) in a brand new high-definition 4K scan with an uncompressed mono soundtrack. The film looks wonderful with deep blacks, crisp details, and excellent shadow detail. The audio track is also quite solid with dialogue crisp and clear and no major hisses or pops. This is a great presentation of a great film. 

Criterion spoils us on the bonus features as well with several fascinating pieces of Berlanga and the film. First up is an interview with Pedro Almodovar, who helps to explain and contextualise Berlanga's place in Spanish film history and to make the case for his place in international film history.

Next up is an hour long look at Berlanga and the film featuring numerous interviews including an extended piece with Berlanga's son in which we are privvy to some amazing artifacts from his life and the production of The Executioner among other films. Finally there is a 2009 TV program celebrating The Executioner that features archival footage of Berlanga that is also worth checking out. We finish off the supplements with an essay from David Cairns that helps to provide further context for the film and why it works so remarkably well.

The Executioner takes a very unfunny job and makes it hilarious and droll at the same time. While it isn't overtly a criticism of Franco-era Spain, one can definitely feel Berlanga poking at the censors, daring them to challenge him, and it's a glorious thing to watch.