voyeur to the cannibal feast
by Douglas Messerli
Luis Alcoriza, Luis Buñuel, Hugo Butler, and
Phillip Roll (screenplay, based on the novel by Daniel Defore), Luis Buñuel
(director) Aventuras de Robinson Crusoe (Robinson Crusoe / The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe) / USA 1954, Mexico 1955
His
salvation seems God-sent when he discovers that a portion of his ship has
lodged itself only a short distance away on an outlying rock, allowing him to
retrieve food, tools, wood, guns and, just as importantly, the crews’ cat Sam
and dog, Rex.
Yet it is the lack of human company which tortures this Crusoe,
particularly when he becomes sick and lies dreaming in a fever in which he
calls up the image of his unforgiving father. Crusoe is even more devastated
after the death of his beloved dog. His cat, quite amazingly, seems to have
found another of her species on the island, producing kittens, which, along
with her, soon grow wild and leave him, predicting, perhaps, what will
ultimately have to happen to him if he is to survive.
In order to maintain his sanity, Crusoe—even in this religious-hating
director’s telling—has no choice but to
read, over and over, the one book he has retrieved, the Bible. In his most
lonely moment, he reads the Psalm of David (“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall
not want.”) to the hills from whence his melodious voice echoes, creating an
imaginary friend out of his own voice and God’s word. But, as he himself
admits, soon after, dressed in furs and carrying an outrageous umbrella, he
would appear as a terrifying figure in any civilized city.
After years of loneliness, he accidently discovers, one day, that the
island is regularly visited by the most uncivilized beings we can imagine,
cannibals from a nearby island who use his island to kill and consume their
victims. In fear for his life, he is forced to watch the horrible ceremony,
later retching when he comes upon their left-over skeletons. Although he
imagines and even prepares a bomb for their eventual destruction, he determines
not to destroy them—in part, it is hinted, because to destroy them would mean
that he has no possibility for human connection.
The next time they appear, he observes through his trusty telescope that
one of the two men they are about to kill, has escaped. As two of the cannibals
attempt to chase down the escapee, Crusoe hits one over the head with a rock
and shoots the second. When the first comes to, the escaped victim kills the
other man himself.
The
relationship between them predictably begins, since Crusoe’s open bigotry has
already been established, as that of master and slave; when Friday sneaks into Crusoe’s
room one night, the “master” immediately shackles his feet, much to the shock
of the loyal servant. But by morning, Crusoe perceives that his Friday has
entered the room more from curiosity than any ill intent, and determines to
free him. A trust between the two soon arises, and together they create an even
stronger settlement, both physically and, Buñuel implies, spiritually. Although
there is nothing in Buñuel’s version that openly suggests a sexual relationship
between the two, we must presume that once Friday has become a near equal of
Crusoe, or perhaps even earlier, the two must certainly satisfy each other’s
sexual as well as their psychological and spiritual needs.
The
cannibals soon again intrude, and this time they perceive that there are far
too many of them to intervene, retreating to their fortress home. A sudden
explosion draws them out to inspect once again, only to discover that Spanish
sailors have come ashore, scaring the local natives off. Not so very
differently from the cannibals, the newcomers—mutineers we soon discover—have
taken two “loyalists” from their ship in order to tie them up and maroon them.
Crusoe and Friday secretly cut the ropes which bind the “believers,” and help
the two escape.
Crusoe’s last great gesture is to ask his now equal friend whether—having just witnessed that the so-called “civilized” men are not so very different from Friday’s native companions—he still wants to travel with him to England. Friday commits to the voyage, willing to embrace a new world that, given his race, may be far more brutal than even than the one he has left behind. Obviously, he newfound friendship with Crusoe has provided more faith than the values of his past or those he might imagine to be provided by those to whom he is traveling. And it is now inevitable, even if unstated, that the two shall live the rest of their lives together.
Jaime Fernández, brother of the famous Mexican actor Emilio Fernández,
was working as a film grip when Buñuel spotted him; apparently he did not know
a word of English when the director began shooting his Robinson Crusoe simultaneously in both English and Spanish. The
younger Fernández evidently learned to speak the language on the set, much in
the same way (but surely more quickly) as the character, Friday, learned it
from Crusoe. Certainly, his bronzed handsome look made a perfect foil for the
virile Irish actor who had previously played in Shakespeare characters in Abbey
Theatre productions.
Los Angeles, January 22, 2016
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (January 2016).
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