Luis Buñuel
Un Chien Andalou

"Un Chien Andalou" is the film born during the period of French surrealism, in that glorious 1929, when Bunuel and Dalí brought to life what would become the masterpiece of avant-garde cinema: a work that in just sixteen minutes encompasses the wildest and most insane emotions that the seventh art has ever been able to offer in its blooming years.

A continuous succession of macabre and distressing images, imbued with necrophiliac poetry, without an apparent reason: it feels like witnessing a neurotic extrasensory dreamlike experience.

It all begins with an eye (compared to the full moon) slit by a perfectly horizontal razor: the incredible act of slitting the viewer's eye to force them, even at the cost of suffering and physical pain, to see everything they have never seen, even the most disturbing and profound reality. A real shocking sequence that gave rise to gore in cinema, which will not always take deep and reflective roots like that of this film, which is a true cinematic delirium, where temporal data only serve to confuse and make everything even more delirious and extreme.

The erotic drive of a man, the anticipation of being touched by the woman (who will, however, reject the impulsive act of the beloved). The memories of the past and finally a walk by the sea, with almost triumphant love: they are swallowed by the sand, so close, but unable to touch each other, to make love.

In the middle? A severed hand devoured by ants and a piano (to which two priests, one of whom is Dalí, are tied) on which lie two dead donkeys eaten by worms (a critique against sex condemned by the Church).

Everything is photographed in a dirty, very dirty and dated black and white, making these sixteen minutes more and more agonizing: extreme images with an incredibly fierce impact, which were offensive in an educated era, not yet accustomed to the phenomenon of surrealist and Dadaist cinema.

A little masterpiece.

You will be captivated.

Let yourself be slit.