Blood and Sand. 1922. Directed by Fred Niblo.

(10/17/99-10/24/99)

It was probably the fact that my eyes were hurting, but I found this movie tedious. After all, I knew he was going to get killed at the end, so what was the big deal? Valentino seemed personable enough, but he didn't make any big impression on me. And I don't see how the film contributed to him becoming such a great romantic idol when he was jerked around by the two women.

Blood and Sand is a very nice production. The sets were really beautiful. One major problem was that there was a lot of footage of the crowds at the bullfight that was intercut and it didn't fit.

There was a lot of interesting stuff going on in this film which is never resolved. There is a scene in a cafe where Valentino humiliates a woman who is throwing herself at him and says, "I hate all women--except one." Is the "one" his betrothed or his mother? An issue is brought up about his feelings about women, then not resolved. We seem to be told that his wife is frigid. It's indicated when Valentino comes to talk to her from below her balcony that these two are not a perfect match: she doesn't approve of his drinking or his companions. All of this could create a solid basis for adultery, but the film fails to capitalize on it.

The figure of the philosopher who "studies" people seems kind of strained. He mostly seems an excuse for getting Blasco-Ibanez's prose into the film. He seems like a very old-fashioned convention. The figure of the bandit Plumitas whose life parallels Valentino's doesn't seem woven into the fabric of the film. There doesn't seem to be any reason for his presence than to point out the moral or the author's ideas about the Valentono character. Still, the milieu of the picture seems to tolerate these didactic touches.

The violence in the bullfighting scenes is very spare. I think I actually missed the charge that fatally wounds Valentino. Blood and Sand does not sell violence. Interestingly, bullfighting is criticized for its barbarism and it is ignored that it is a ritual of courage. I think it is legitimate to criticize it for its cruelty, but there is more to it than that. The filmmakers (or the novelist) had to choose which to emphasize, but it is noticeable one-sided.