Synopsis
The degeneration of high society!
A formal dinner party starts out normally enough, but after the bourgeois group retire to the host’s music room, they inexplicably find themselves unable to leave.
A formal dinner party starts out normally enough, but after the bourgeois group retire to the host’s music room, they inexplicably find themselves unable to leave.
Silvia Pinal Enrique Rambal Jacqueline Andere José Baviera Augusto Benedico Luis Beristáin Antonio Bravo Claudio Brook César del Campo Bertha Moss Enrique García Álvarez Lucy Gallardo Nadia Haro Oliva Ofelia Guilmáin Ofelia Montesco Patricia de Morelos Patricia Morán Rosa Elena Durgel Tito Junco Xavier Loyá Xavier Massé Ángel Di Stefani Ángel Merino Daniel Arroyo Fernando Yapur Jesús Gómez Juan Antonio Edwards Roberto Meyer Rubén Márquez Show All…
L'ange exterminateur, L'angelo sterminatore, Der Würgeengel, Los náufragos de la calle de la Providencia, El ángel exterminador, Minagoroshi no Tenshi, 泯灭天使, ملک الموت, 학살의 천사, 절멸의 천사, O Anjo Exterminador, Morderengelen, Yokedici Melek, El Ángel Exterminador, L'Ange exterminateur, Az öldöklő angyal, המלאך המחסל, Tuhon enkeli, Ангелът унищожител, Îngerul exterminator, Ангел-истребитель, Εξολοθρευτής Άγγελος, Ангел-винищувач, Anděl zkázy, Anjel skazy, Anioł Zagłady, Thiên Thần Hủy Diệt, 泯滅天使, 皆殺しの天使, Mordängeln
The breaking of a basic social contract exacerbates the pretenses of wealth, reason and etiquette and shatters the entire organized, material illusion to reveal the primal cruelty and death that sustains it. "I believe the common people, the lower class people, are less sensitive to pain."
79/100
Offers so much food for thought that it's easy to overlook what a remarkable high-wire act it represents, formally: Buñuel manages to orchestrate the activities of something like 20 people in a single room, for close to 90 minutes, without succumbing to proscenium-style theatricality—even though there essentially is a fourth wall that the characters can't traverse! Much more visually dynamic than I'd remembered (only previous viewing was almost 20 years ago), and still every bit as hilariously bleak; not only am I glad that no explanation for what happens is ever offered, but I'm reluctant even to entertain possible interpretations and theories of my own, for fear of somehow diminishing the film's resonance via rationality. It just feels perfect,…
My favorite Luis Bunuel film, and an all-time favorite in general, sees a group of upper-class elitists affected by a force they can't understand, which keeps them from leaving a fancy dinner party. Over the course of days, they head in a Lord of the Flies direction, sniping and tearing at each other while simultaneously critiquing each other's etiquette and bearing. Bunuel is, as usual, scathing about the pretensions and self-satisfaction of the bourgeoisie, but there's also a sense of humor to the fantasy, and I love the symbolism of the rich being stuck with each other in this unsatisfactory, cloistered life they've created for themselves.
Paired with Darren Aronofsky's Mother! — which it partially inspired — on the Next Picture Show podcast.
If I was in this I would simply leave the room. I'm sorry those people got trapped in there but I'm different
Well, I started to watch this movie, but then I got stuck in my chair and...
The Exterminating Angel was a Kafka-esque movie about a group of bourgeoisies who meet up for a dinner party and find themselve psychologically trapped in one of the large house’s room. Quickly as they realize their entrapment, the refined patrons quickly disseminate shifting into their rude, violent, selfish, primal selves. Bunuel uses this strange concept to explore existentialist themes of the bourgeoisie, the nature of entrapment and the dichotomy of the presented self and the true self.
At the beginning of the movie during the bourgeoisie dinner party, the patrons are presented as polite, artificial, and seemingly laid back though firm and unrelenting towards their workers. After they realize they are trapped within this room, their behavior changes. Some start…
i wanna program a film series called 'mother! superior' with good movies mother! wishes it were. this would be the centerpiece.
"They'll be ashamed when they look back on their behavior."
Spoilers? I don't know what's a spoiler for movies like this. If you think it's possible for me to spoil this movie for you and you think that might be a bad thing, probably don't read this.
So, like, what's going on here, exactly? A bunch of Fancy People are invited to a Fancy Party with a Fancy Dinner and all that, they stay up way past their bedtime getting rowdy, and when someone mentions that "it's late" and "I'm tired" and "we should probably be getting home now," the host graciously extends the invitation: "Late? This is the most intimate and pleasant hour of the…
***One of the best 150 films I have ever seen.***
SPANISH REVIEW:
Si bien alguna vez he visto en mi vida una directa y brillante crítica social hacia la clase alta y la burguesía, Luis Buñuel, quien es uno de mis directores gigantes del cine, es a quien debería agradecer. Me resulta un concepto bastante inteligente y bien pensado el hecho de que Buñuel, quien básicamente creó el surrealismo en el cine con su cortometraje Un Chien Andalou (1929) y con su largometraje L'Âge d'Or (1930), mezclara dicho género con su incomparable talento de dirección para crear una de las más astutas críticas a la clase alta que jamás he visto en el Séptimo Arte. El Ángel Exterminador es ciertamente…
There's something amiss with this genteel soiree:
A bear, sheep, and chicken feet, hidden away.
Inane chatter (strange in its lack of much sense)
Emits from the revelers; why'm I so tense?
Buñuel sets the stage for a party so odd
All this 'fore the meat (when the fête starts to nod).
Arise! You elite (so professions suggest)
And gaze at the chains swapped for tails, furs, and vests.
A prison of wealth and a carpenter's tool,
A room full of braggarts; of cheaters; of fools.
How's company now that you're stuck with yourselves?
What once was so decadent, now turns to hell.
The basest of instincts are wretched and spurned?
Hold onto your wallets; the tables are turned:
In…