| by ROB SMART Originally Published in the Bright Lights Film Journal (May 2011, Issue 72) "These shoestring-budget shot-on-video works already demonstrate Atanes' characteristic gifts for composition and staging combined with a knack for finding bleakly evocative locations that reinforce his themes of power, oppression, exile or, entrapment and the dream of alternate realities where freedom might be possible."
Atanes arrived on the scene in 1990’s with several surreal, underground short films, including Metaminds & Metabodies, Morfing and the corrosive Welcome to Spain. Original, bizarre, provocative, they reveal many of Atanes’ principal influences, including surrealist progenitors such as Bunuel, Arrabal, and Jean Cocteau as well as Greenaway, Lynch, Cronenberg, Ionesco, Stanislaw Lem, Philip K. Dick and Boris Vian, among others. These extremely low budget shot on video works already demonstrate Atanes characteristic gifts for composition and staging combined with a knack for finding evocative, barren locations that reinforce his themes of power, oppression, exile or entrapment and the dream of alternate realities where freedom might be possible. Despite getting several prominent Spanish directors to make cameos in his short Morfing Atanes remains outside Spanish industry, where he has found no financial or institutional support from an industry with no tradition of independent filmmaking. Though some state subsidies are available Atanes found the requirements of obtaining it too onerous and restrictive. Therefore he felt there was no choice but to self-finance his work. For features such as FAQ, Proxima and Maximum Shame he has had to spread out a range of one to four actual weeks of shooting over several months or even a year. Yet despite extremely low budgets Atanes’ shot-on-video features largely belie the limitations of ultra low-budget production and look and sound like the work of a far better funded filmmaker. Visually, his dystopian science fiction film FAQ is distinguished by a canny choice of present-day urban locations, not particularly futuristic but suggestive of a distressed future and stunningly beautiful desert landscapes. He struggles to get his films made and then because there is no interest by Spanish distributors or Spanish festivals or the majority of Spanish reviewers he is compelled to heavily work the festival circuit to get his films seen and to pick up some scattered distribution. Though Atanes’ films have received numerous positive reviews from American websites that specialize in underground and horror films his films have as yet received only a limited and highly problematic arrangement with a sub-distributor for one film (FAQ) and distribution via online download on Amazon.com (Proxima).
The other lead character, Angeline (Anne-Celine Auche), is a young woman scheduled to surrender her reproductive functions to metacontrol and become a cog in that power structure but she is clearly ambivalent. During the sequences of the film where she is central she renders her thoughts and observations in Voice Over creating a counterpoint to Nono’s silence. She decides to take None with her on a trek into the wilderness Ultimately they venture into a stunning desert wasteland. But any thought of resistance or escape appears to be squashed immediately and order and control are again imposed. The ending suggests that only in the space outside of reality, the place of fantasy, is any kind of escape from the oppressive system possible. FAQ is noteworthy for its striking visuals – Atanes camera placement and framing are nearly always impeccable – and for his characteristically brilliant use of locations, none of which are explicitly futuristic and yet they all succeed in creating the sense of degraded, alienating near-future.
Wandering in this strange new environment the husband, the Rook (all the characters are named after chess pieces) encounters the Queen, who immediately assumes a position of dominance over him. After allowing him to suckle at her breast she has him impaled through the throat with a spear by a mute, idiot character, the Pawn. His wife, the Bishop, wanders through the warehouse in search of her lost husband. For the time being the Rook is removed from the “game.” The Queen has under her control one primary captive, an attractive woman (Ariadna Ferrer) with a fetish apparatus on her face that prevents her from eating (implicitly she is the King but never named as such). The Queen’s domination of her prisoner appears to be part of an overall attempt to prevent the realization of some kind of prophecy, which entails the loss of her power and a reversal of the power dynamic. Throughout the film there is a subtle parallel with Pedro Calderon de la Barca’s great play of the Spanish classical period Life is a Dream. In this play a King receives a prophecy via Horoscope that his son will grow up to destroy the country and has him imprisoned in a tower to avoid his usurpation. After briefly releasing him only to have the prince go on a rampage the son is drugged and returned to the tower, persuaded that the events of the day before were a dream. Ultimately rebel forces free the Prince and he defeats his father in combat, taking his place. And indeed in the film there is an oracle, which appears in a gilded mirror (Eleanor James) and, in a messy scene involving gobs of pasta and the hungry king kneeling on the floor foretells and appears to abet the reversal that brings about the overturning of the Queen’s reign. Despite the film’s eschewal of any conventional causality one earlier sequence seems to lead decisively to this reversal and involves yet another dream. After the Bishop, searching the warehouse for Rook is knocked unconscious by the Queen’s pawn she apparently dreams of an encounter with another character, the Knight (Ignasi Vidal). The knight suggests that he is an angel. He carries illustrations and calculations for the construction of a transverberation machine designed to bring about extreme or ecstatic states. Mystical or sexual transport, violence or death, or some combination thereof they are all forms of violent rupture with things as they are, possible transcendence or escape, an opening to another dimension or order of being (including perhaps union with God). Transverberation derives from a particular brand of Spanish Catholic mysticism, especially that of Saint Teresa de Avila. The spear that impales the Rook at the beginning of the film and that will impale him and the Bishop as they embrace in reunion is the spear that pierces the heart of the mystic whose quotidian reality is shattered by union with the divine. Ultimately the Bishop’s dream yields a decisive moment when she finds herself imprisoned in cardboard box next to the Knight who is imprisoned in a box of his own. Here, during one of the film’s two surprisingly compelling musical numbers, she is able to provide him with crucial lost number sequence that appears to influence the oracle’s actions that lead in turn to the Queen’s downfall.
Even more than Calderon de la Barca’s play Maximum Shame is permeated by dreamlike indeterminacy. Its plot cannot be reduced to one simple log line. Like David Lynch’s Lost Highway or even Last Year at Marienbad it is open to multiple interpretations. It defies any easy genre categorization as well, perhaps explaining the difficulty the film has had in finding distribution. In Maximum Shame Atanes’ presents what is perhaps the definitive delineation of his themes of power and oppression. But here the consolatory power of dreams or fantasies seems in question since the entire alternate world is itself essentially oneiric if not literally a dream — or more accurately a nightmare permeated with the dynamics of domination, dread and subjugation. This alternate universe is a trap; a suffocating enclosed world, where every variation in the “game” ultimately leads to the same result. Whatever the actual rules of this mysterious chess match (and it hard to tell) it always ends in oppressors and the oppressed, winners or losers: there is no escaping the nature of the game itself. The nightmare warehouse, a locus of radical isolation and constraint, is a totalized system in the mode of the extreme utopias or dystopias of discourse delineated by Roland Barthes in his Fourier/Sade/Loyola (whom Atanes cites as an influence). The warehouse of Maximum Shame is very particular closed universe, a freakshow wonderland that Ana Mayo’s Alice ventures into. But it is also and more disturbingly a distilled mirror version of the real universe we all occupy right now.
Yet one can hope that with luck Atanes will soon achieve a breakthrough that will allow him to produce another and perhaps more ambitious feature-length project, one that perhaps will finally succeed at making the work of this singular and neglected contemporary director available to all of us.
Note: The primary sources for information on Carlos Atanes and his films are various websites devoted to underground or science fiction film such as Bad Lit: The Journal of Underground Film; Extraordinary Video and Movie Guide (interview); Cinetrange (interview); Atanes’ own website; and personal communication between the director and me. Rob Smart is a fringe novelist (Mother’s Got a Whip); screenwriter, solitary unaffiliated film scholar and struggling video maker residing in Seattle WA.
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||








In the wake of Maximum Shame Atanes turned his attention back to long-held dream project, a biopic of Aleister Crowley. Aliester Crowley, a complete outsider, with his practice of magick involving sex and power and ritual placing him at odds with established values and society, is a natural and attractive subject for Atanes. A previous attempt had resulted in the forty-minute Perdurabo. This most recent attempt quickly ran aground due to lack of financing and he has already been forced to shelve it for the time being.