Goya’s Ghosts
I know Goya is a household name, but I‘ll tell you a secret. Usually when I hear the name I think of a can of black beans. As it happens, I’m not the only one. Just Google “Goya” and see what happens.I may be a troglodyte, but I know Francisco Goya is a famous Spanish painter. I also happen to be an educated troglodyte, in fact I may even have taken a course devoted to Goya in college for all I remember.Since I didn’t have the good sense to bone up on my art history before seeing Goya’s Ghosts, I went in knowing only the bare minimum about the man. When I got home and did some research it all started coming back to me. In the late 18th century Goya worked as the court painter, often performing such Herculean tasks as making the Queen look young and beautiful. His work in this capacity was a little uninspired and flat in my opinion. It was his later work, the “Black Paintings” and the “Disasters of War” series that made an impression on me.
Despite its title, Goya’s Ghosts is not so much about the man as it is about his observations. In life Goya bore witness to the atrocities of the renewed Spanish Inquisition and the Peninsular War that ravaged Spain. Indeed Goya was something of a photojournalist, for lack of a better word, and perhaps an anti-war activist. In the film, Goya (Stellan Skarsgard) takes a back seat to one Brother Lorenzo (Javier Bardem) and a young girl named Ines (Natalie Portman). Goya is merely a bystander chronicling their exploits as the years pass.
When we first meet Brother Lorenzo he is trying to impress upon the church officials, with the help of some of Goya’s more scandalous sketches, the extent of society’s moral decline. The Spanish Inquisition could really use a shot in the arm and Lorenzo is just the man to do it. He trains his inquisitors to be on the lookout for heretics at all times, as even the most innocuous actions can betray a Jew on the down-low.
Meanwhile Goya employs Ines, the beautiful and naïve daughter of a rich merchant, as his model. He is so taken with her beauty that he can’t close his eyes without seeing her. She has the face of an angel, in fact he uses her face as inspiration when painting angels. One fateful evening while in a tavern with her brothers Ines refuses the pork she is served at dinner, a grave error under Lorenzo’s watchful eyes. She is called before the Inquisition and confesses the “truth,” whatever that might be. In an instant loses her innocence, her freedom, her family, everything.
To Lorenzo, issues of guilt or innocence are black and white. If a truly innocent person is “put to the question” God would give her the strength to withstand the torture and she would never give a false confession. In a scene that is at once amusing and disturbing his theory is put to the test by Ines’ distraught father. Lorenzo fails of course, and his failure causes him to seriously reconsider his lifestyle choices.
Alas, all good things must come to an end. Years after Ines’ arrest Spain is invaded by the French and the Inquisition is put out of business. Goya has lost his hearing, but thankfully he is still able to see and document the carnage that takes place. Things have changed all over Spain, but Goya, Ines and Lorenzo once again cross paths.
If you really want to get the flavor of Goya’s Ghosts you only have to look at some of his later paintings, such as Saturn Devouring His Son or The Execution of the Defenders of Madrid. These paintings will leave the same taste in your mouth that you have after seeing the film. It is a beautifully conceived train wreck, horrible and alarming, and yet you can’t turn away.
Goya’s Ghosts was directed by the great Milos Forman, who directed such masterpieces as One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest and Amadeus. Since Goya‘s Ghosts takes place in roughly the same period as Amadeus I’m a little tempted to compare the two, but I left with the same feeling I had when I saw Cuckoo, frightened and sad. (Of course when I saw that movie I was like, seven. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, between that and Midnight Express it’s a miracle I’m not on stronger meds). Mr. Forman tells us what we already know, that he’s the master of keeping it real. He can do pretty along with the best of them, but when it’s time to show life’s cold, hard truths he goes for the jugular.
There’s been a lot of buzz over Natalie Portman taking it all off in this movie. Anyone who thinks he’s going to get his jollies watching that scene is going to be sorely disappointed; there’s nothing sexual about it. The torture scenes are abrupt and brutal, nothing titillating there.
I started out loving this film, but by the end I was a little worked over. In the press materials I read it was said that Lorenzo was supposed to be a “neither good nor bad” sort of guy. Javier Bardem was absolutely brilliant, but if moral ambiguity is what he was going for, it didn’t work. Lorenzo was a scumbag of the highest order, and in a time when men changed political and religious alliances as often as I change my underwear (that would be every day), that’s saying a lot. Natalie Portman’s performance was on point as always, but the film spent a little too much time watching her search for her figuratively lost marbles. Casting Randy Quaid as King Carlos IV was an interesting idea, and believe it or not it worked.
It’s interesting how certain themes will never go out of style. Centuries will pass but there will always be religious zealots, war and corruption. I almost choked on my popcorn when the French soldiers were told that they would be “greeted with flowers and kisses on the streets of Madrid.” Now where have I heard that before? (OK, I wasn’t eating popcorn, but you know what I mean).
By the way, I just remembered that I took American Art in college, so you can take my analysis of Goya’s work with a grain of salt. But just wait until they make a movie about John Singer Sargent.
This is a wonderfully detailed review!