A relic of Buñuel’s commercial period in Mexico, Susana offers up sex, sensationalism, and literal Sturm und Drang. 

The vast majority of Luis Buñuel’s filmography was released before his ascension to the throne of surrealist cinema. The filmmaker may have first come into the public conscious in 1929 due to his radical vomit-inducing collaboration with Salvador Dali, Un Chien Andalou, but his career also included a largely fruitless seven-year Hollywood residency and an 18-year period in Mexico. Within those two decades, Buñuel churned out 21 films, nearly all melodramas or action films meant to appeal to large audiences. 

Susana (1951) is very much a product of Buñuel’s more commercial period in Mexico. Catnip for the scandal-starved population, Susana offers up sex, sensationalism, and good old-fashioned Sturm und Drang by the bucket-load. Nevertheless, the film still earns a place on display in Buñuel’s sophisticated boutique. Sewn together by a master-tailor, Susana is laced with unexpected surrealist touches and embroidered with an air of welcome irreverence. Even if they’re no longer the fashion, this author might argue that dated dramatics grow more stylish with age. 

Those dramatics begin the moment the opening credits end and only desist once the screen has faded to black. It takes about two minutes for the titular character to get out of jail free via God’s liberal hand. Lest we believe Susana’s prayers were answered because of her piety, Susana’s wicked nature is introduced early on as reformatory nuns throw her into solitary confinement. “Imagine,” they exclaim, “She’s been here two years and is worse than ever.” 

Exactly how bad Susana (Rosa Quintana) is remains to be seen until she finds herself lost in a stormy landscape that wouldn’t feel out of place in a Bronte novel. Taken in by a wealthy ranching family, Susana repays their kindness by seducing, in systematic order, the farmhand (Victor Manuel Mendoza), the son (Luis López Somosa), and the happily married father (Fernando Soler). All the while, the latter’s virtuous wife, Carmen (Matilde Palou), remains oblivious. In fact, the only person to notice that anything is amiss is the housekeeper, Felisa (María Gentil Arcos), an unnerving Mrs. Danvers type. 

Not all of Susana’s escapades burn quite as bright in this post #MeToo era. The character is defined chiefly by her sexuality, and the behavior of one of her suitors in particular comes off as troubling. Nevertheless, the film sparks more than it sputters out. 

The script hints at a shrewd rationale behind Susana’s steady conquest of the ranch’s men, and Quintana, whose eyelid-batting facade recalls Marilyn Monroe, has a lot of fun with the role. Whether she’s taunting the housekeeper, or playing a distressed damsel, one can’t help feeling that Quintana is enjoying every second on-set. 

Susana effortlessly outshines the victims of her affections, but the actors never hold this against her. All three men deliver solid performances and have fantastic chemistry with their titular temptress. Somosa, in particular, does an excellent job of playing a lovesick maiden; one expects that at some point he’ll faint and fall onto a chaise-lounge.  

Unlike most other films of the age and unlikely for a film about a serial seductress and her targets, the strongest scenes are those that focus on the women. Other actresses might turn to cardboard in Quintana’s presence, but Palou uses her blank basic role as a canvas for profound poetry. All the while, Arcos jumps between doddering harmless old woman and frightening hag with ease, sometimes in the same scene. 

Visually, Susana is cinematic dessert. Cinematographer José Ortiz Ramos has baked a glorious black and white confection and iced it with thick shadow. More than a bit of the film takes place during fierce thunderstorms, and the images of violent rain crashing down in the courtyard are some of the film’s most beautiful. Every moment is accompanied by a classic sweeping score that pushes every emotion to its utmost limit. 

The same year Susana was released in Mexico, Buñuel’s gritty controversial masterpiece Los Olvidados premiered at Cannes. At the time, it horrified commercial audiences, but today Los Olvidados is considered one of Buñuel’s most influential films. Alas, the reverse occurred to the once-crowd-pleasing Susana, now a mere bullet point on Buñuel’s Wikipedia page. 

Susana is far from radical surrealist cinema. Yet, it is a Luis Buñuel film, and it is worthy of our attention. It’s fascinating to watch how a member of the avant-garde aristocracy took on lurid sensationalism at its finest and created a melodrama that could hold its own against the modern day telenovela. It’s a cinematic storm of sex, scandal, and ominous weather. What’s not to love? 

Susana is available on DVD through Facets. Get your copy today. 

Author:  Ora Damelin is a film student at Columbia College Chicago. She loves to share her opinions on film and is delighted-and slightly befuddled-that those opinions are now published online.