In his review of a Dali on Flm exhibit at the Tate Modern, Richard Dorment points out that Dali was nothing without the great Luis Buñuel as his collaborator.
But real dreams normally take place in ordinary, everyday settings - it's the oddness of what happens in them, and the disorientation caused by abrupt dislocations in time that feel so weird. In the films Dalí made with Buñuel, he respects this reality. What he serves up here is high camp, cardboard stage sets that so insistently call attention to their strangeness that the meaning the dream has within the film's narrative is overwhelmed by the screaming symbolism of the backdrops and props.
My only complaint would be that Dorment gives Dali a bit too much credit for Buñuel's work.
But real dreams normally take place in ordinary, everyday settings - it's the oddness of what happens in them, and the disorientation caused by abrupt dislocations in time that feel so weird. In the films Dalí made with Buñuel, he respects this reality. What he serves up here is high camp, cardboard stage sets that so insistently call attention to their strangeness that the meaning the dream has within the film's narrative is overwhelmed by the screaming symbolism of the backdrops and props.
My only complaint would be that Dorment gives Dali a bit too much credit for Buñuel's work.
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