El Bruto is, quite simply, a melodrama in the literal sense; romantic music cues the romantic scenes, action music cues the violent scenes, etc. Moreover, the characters are introduced as stock archetypes and are mostly undeveloped; Don Andres the cruel capitalist, Meche the unassuming maid, Paloma the adulterous wife (Katy Juardo, in a performance that, looking back, boarders on misogynist in its hypocritical implications of female sexual aggression), and of course, Pedro, the beast turned from his wicked ways because of a good (looking?) woman.
The film follows an uninspired tale of eviction of tenants by Don Andres, and El Brudo - Pedro - is hired to rough em up, and stop those "revolutionaries" from stirring up trouble. Perhaps Bunuel was making a commentary about Franco's Spain with such references, but any analogy is lost in the mire of an all-too-predictable plot. The details are not really worth mentioning, on account of their banality.
What, then, saves this film from registering a 3 or worse on my scale? Well, while the film seems at first aggravatingly conventional, there are enough subversive digressions from the genre (beast-mollified-by-virtuous-beauty) that makes you rethink the point of the entire film. First of all, there's the matter of perspective - we are all used to seeing Film Noir heavies take the protagonist/troublemaker aside with a little "message" from the boss. This time, though, we are asked to sympathize with the heavy's side. Sure, it's been done elsewhere (The Godfather trilogy comes to mind), but not with, as in Armendariz's performance as Pedro, intensity reminiscent of Marlon Brando as Tennessee Williams' Stanley Kowalski.
Otherwise, a lingering question of motive remains. It is not a simple, beast-man changes his ways and saves the day story, because Pedro's motivation for change seems to be attraction to Meche, not benevolence towards the lowly tenants. Does that make him a selfish, animal man? Or does it actually reveal his humanity, above that of the loveless Don Andres and Paloma? In the end, Pedro doesn't change his nature, but a certain part of his nature - that of attraction - gets the better of him.
The final image of the film is also deliciously enigmatic: Paloma gazing - fearfully? anxiously? - at a dark hen that defies interpretation. Perhaps I missed a plot detail about that hen - was it the same one that was a gift from Pedro to Meche? then perhaps she is jealous - but more likely, it is a statement of rebellion against Paloma's otherwise static character type. She seems to be have been involved with some potent set pieces earlier (the flowers to be cut, representing tenants; the meat to be cut, representing the subtlety of seduction).
We are not meant to leave fully knowing or understanding either Paloma or Pedro (sadly, Meche remains 1-dimensional), and enough scenes are introduced that challenge our preconceptions about type characters that makes the story surprisingly compelling.
The film follows an uninspired tale of eviction of tenants by Don Andres, and El Brudo - Pedro - is hired to rough em up, and stop those "revolutionaries" from stirring up trouble. Perhaps Bunuel was making a commentary about Franco's Spain with such references, but any analogy is lost in the mire of an all-too-predictable plot. The details are not really worth mentioning, on account of their banality.
What, then, saves this film from registering a 3 or worse on my scale? Well, while the film seems at first aggravatingly conventional, there are enough subversive digressions from the genre (beast-mollified-by-virtuous-beauty) that makes you rethink the point of the entire film. First of all, there's the matter of perspective - we are all used to seeing Film Noir heavies take the protagonist/troublemaker aside with a little "message" from the boss. This time, though, we are asked to sympathize with the heavy's side. Sure, it's been done elsewhere (The Godfather trilogy comes to mind), but not with, as in Armendariz's performance as Pedro, intensity reminiscent of Marlon Brando as Tennessee Williams' Stanley Kowalski.
Otherwise, a lingering question of motive remains. It is not a simple, beast-man changes his ways and saves the day story, because Pedro's motivation for change seems to be attraction to Meche, not benevolence towards the lowly tenants. Does that make him a selfish, animal man? Or does it actually reveal his humanity, above that of the loveless Don Andres and Paloma? In the end, Pedro doesn't change his nature, but a certain part of his nature - that of attraction - gets the better of him.
The final image of the film is also deliciously enigmatic: Paloma gazing - fearfully? anxiously? - at a dark hen that defies interpretation. Perhaps I missed a plot detail about that hen - was it the same one that was a gift from Pedro to Meche? then perhaps she is jealous - but more likely, it is a statement of rebellion against Paloma's otherwise static character type. She seems to be have been involved with some potent set pieces earlier (the flowers to be cut, representing tenants; the meat to be cut, representing the subtlety of seduction).
We are not meant to leave fully knowing or understanding either Paloma or Pedro (sadly, Meche remains 1-dimensional), and enough scenes are introduced that challenge our preconceptions about type characters that makes the story surprisingly compelling.