Surrealistische film van Luis Buñuel uit 1928
duur 17 min.
"Een Andalusische hond"
"Un Chien
Andalou "
The
Movie
Original Shooting Script by Luis Buñuel and
Salvador Dalí Translated
by Haim Finkelstein
Un Chien Andalou
PROLOGUE
Once Upon a Time ...
A balcony at night. A man is sharpening a razor by
the balcony. The man looks at the sky through the window-panes and sees ... A
light cloud moving toward the full moon. Then a young woman's head, her eyes
wide open. A razor blade moves toward one of the eyes. The light cloud passes
now across the moon. The razor blade cuts through the eye of the young woman,
slicing it. End of Prologue.
EIGHT YEARS LATER
A deserted street. It is raining. A character
dressed in a dark-gray suit appears riding a bicycle. His head, back and loins
are adorned in ruffles of white linen. A rectangular box with black and white
diagonal stripes is secured to his chest by straps. The character pedals
mechanically without holding the handlebars, with his hands resting on his knees.
The character is seen from the back down to the thighs in a medium shot,
superimposed lengthwise on the street down which he is cycling with his back to
the camera. The character moves toward the camera until the striped box is seen
in a close-up. An ordinary room on the third floor on the same street. A young
girl wearing a brightly colored dress is sitting in the middle of the room
attentively reading a book. Suddenly she comes out of her reading with a start,
listens with curiosity, freeing herself of the book by throwing it on a nearby
couch. The book stays open with a reproduction of Vermeer's The Lacemaker
on one of the pages facing up. The young woman is convinced now that something
is in the offing: she, gets up, and, half turning, walks in quick steps toward
the window. The character we have mentioned before has just at this very moment
stopped, below on the street. Without offering the least resistance, out of
inertia, he lets himself come down with the bicycle into the gutter, in the
midst of a mud heap. Looking enraged and resentful, the young woman hurries down
the stairs and out to the street. Close-up of the character sprawling on the
ground, expressionless, his position identical to that at the moment of his fall.
The young woman comes out of the house, and, throwing herself on the cyclist,
she frantically kisses him on the mouth, the eyes and the nose. The rain gets
heavier to the extent of blotting out the preceding scene. Dissolve to the box
whose diagonal stripes are superimposed on those of the rain. Hands equipped
with a little key open the box, pulling out a tie wrapped in tissue paper. It
must be taken into account that the rain, the box, the tissue paper and the tie
should all exhibit these diagonal stripes, with their sizes alone varying. The
same room. Standing by the bed, the young woman is looking at the clothing
articles that had been worn by the character -- ruffles, box, and the stiff
collar with the plain dark tie -- all laid out as though they were worn by a
person lying on the bed. The young woman finally decides to pick up the collar,
removing the plain tie in order to replace it with the striped one which she has
just taken out of the box. She puts it back in the same place, and then sits
down by the bed in the posture of a person watching over the dead. (Note: The
bed, that is to say, the bedspread and the pillow, are slightly rumpled and
depressed as if a human body were really lying there). The woman is aware
that someone is standing behind her and turns around to see who it is. Without
the least surprise, she sees the character who now is without any of his former
accessory articles, looking very attentively at something in his right hand. His
great absorption betrays quite a great deal of anxiety. The woman approaches and
looks in turn at what he has in his hand. Close-up of the hand, the middle of
which is teeming with ants swarming out of a black hole. None of these falls off.
Dissolve to the armpit hair of a young woman sprawled on the sand of a sunny
beach. Dissolve to a sea urchin whose spines ripple slightly. Dissolve to the
head of another young woman in a powerful overhead shot framed by an iris. The
iris opens to reveal the young woman surrounded by a throng of people who are
trying to break through a police barrier. At the center of this circle, the
young woman, holding a stick, attempts to pick up a severed hand with painted
fingernails that is lying on the ground. A policeman comes up to her, sharply
reprimanding her; he bends down and picks up the hand which he carefully wraps
up and puts in the box that was carried by the cyclist. He hands it all to the
young woman, saluting her in a military fashion while she thanks him. As the
policeman hands her the box, she must appear to be carried away by an
extraordinary emotion that isolates her completely from everything around her.
It is as though she were enthralled by the echoes of distant religious music;
perhaps music she heard in her earliest childhood. Their curiosity satisfied,
the bystanders begin to disperse in all directions. This scene will have been
seen by the characters whom we have left in the room on the third floor. They
are seen through the window panes of the balcony from which may be seen the end
of the scene described above. When the policeman hands the box over to the young
woman, the two characters on the balcony appear to also be overcome to the point
of tears by the same emotion. Their heads sway as though following the rhythm of
this impalpable music. The man looks at the young woman and makes a gesture as
though he were saying: "Did you see? Hadn't I told you so?" She looks
down again at the young woman on the street who is now all alone and, as if
pinned down to the spot, in a state of utter restraint. Cars pass all around her
at breathtaking speeds. Suddenly she is run over by one of the cars and is left
there horribly mutilated. It is then that, with the decisiveness of a man fully
knowing his rights, the man goes over to his companion, and, having gazed
lasciviously straight into her eyes, he grabs her breasts through her dress.
Closeup of the lustful hands over the breasts. These are bared as the dress
disappears. A terrible expression of almost mortal anguish spreads over the
man's face, and a blood-streaked dribble runs out of his mouth dripping on the
young woman's bare breasts. The breasts disappear to be transformed into thighs
which the man continues to palpate. His expression has changed. His eyes sparkle
with malice and lust. His wide open mouth now closes down as if tightened up by
a sphincter. The young woman moves back toward the middle of the room, followed
by the man who is still in the same posture. Suddenly, she makes a forceful
motion, breaking his hold on her, freeing herself from his amorous advances. The
man's mouth tightens with anger. She realizes that a disagreeable or violent
scene is about to take place. She moves back, step by step, until she reaches
the corner of the room, where she takes up a position behind a small table.
Assuming the gestures of the melodrama villain, the man looks around for
something or other. He sees at his feet the end of a rope and picks it up with
his right hand. His left hand gropes about too and gets hold of an identical
rope. Glued to the wall the young woman watches with horror her attacker's
stratagem. The latter advances toward her dragging with great effort that which
is attached behind to the ropes. We see passing before our eyes on the screen:
first, a cork, then a melon, then two Brothers of Christian Schools, and finally
two magnificent grand pianos. The pianos are loaded with the rotting carcasses
of two donkeys, their feet, tails, hindquarters and excrement spilling out of
the piano-cases. As one of the pianos passes in front of the camera lens, a
large donkey's head is seen pressing the keyboard. Pulling with great difficulty
this burden, the man desperately strains toward the young woman, knocking over
chairs, tables, a floor lamp, etc., etc. The donkey's hind-quarters get caught
in everything. A lamp hanging from the ceiling is jostled by a stripped bone,
and continues rocking until the end of the scene. When the man is about to reach
the young woman, she dodges him with a leap and escapes. Her attacker lets go of
the ropes and begins pursuing her. The young woman opens a communicating door
and vanishes into the next room, but not quickly enough to be able to lock the
door behind her. The man's hand having made it past the joint, is held captive,
caught at the wrist. Inside the other room, pressing the door harder and harder,
the young woman looks at the hand which wrenches in pain in slow motion as the
ants reappear and swarm over the door. Right away, she turns her head toward the
middle of the new room, which is identical to the previous one, but on which the
lighting confers a different look; the young woman sees ... A man sprawled on
the bed who is the one and the same man whose hand is still caught in the door.
Wearing the ruffles with the box resting on his chest he does not make the least
movement but lies there, his eyes wide open, his superstitious expression
seeming to say: "Something really extraordinary is now about to
happen!"
ABOUT THREE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING
A new character is seen from the back on the landing; he
has just stopped by the entrance door to the apartment. He rings the bell of the
apartment where the events are taking place. We don't see the bell nor the
electric hammer, but in their place, over the door, there are two holes through
which pass two hands shaking a silver cocktail shaker. Their action is
instantaneous, as in ordinary films when a doorbell button is being pressed. The
man lying on the bed gives a start. The young woman goes and opens the door. The
newcomer goes directly to the bed and imperiously orders the man to get up. The
man complies so grudgingly that the other is obliged to grab him by the ruffles
and force him to his feet. Having torn off the ruffles one by one, the newcomer
throws them out of the window. The box follows the same route and so do the
straps which the man tries in vain to save from the catastrophe. And this leads
the newcomer to punish the man by making him go and stand with his face to one
of the walls. The newcomer will have done all this with his back completely
turned to the camera. He turns around now for the first time in order to go and
look for something on the other side of the room. The sub-title says:
SIXTEEN YEARS BEFORE
At this point the photography becomes hazy. The newcomer
moves in slow motion and we set that his features are identical to those of the
other; they are one and the same person, but for the fact that the newcomer
looks younger and more doleful, as the other must have been years before. The
newcomer goes toward the back of the room with the camera tracking back and
keeping him in medium close-up. The school desk toward which our individual is
heading enters the frame. There are two books on the school desk, as well as
various school objects, whose position and moral meaning are to be carefully
determined. The newcomer picks up the two books and turns to go and join the
other man. At this point everything goes back to normal, the fuzziness and slow
motion having disappeared. Having come up to the man, the newcomer directs him
to hold out his arms in a cruciform position, places a book in each hand, and
orders him to remain so as a punishment. The punished character's expression has
now become keen and treacherous. He turns to face the newcomer. The books he has
been holding turn into revolvers. The newcomer looks at him with tenderness, an
expression that becomes more pronounced with each passing moment. The other,
threatening the newcomer with his guns and forcing him to put his hands up, does
not heed the latter's compliance and fires both revolvers at him. Medium
close-up of the newcomer falling down fatally wounded, his features contorted in
agony (the photography's fuzziness is resumed and the newcomer's fall is in slow
motion, in a way that is more pronounced than previously). We see in the
distance the wounded man falling; this, however, happens no longer inside the
room but in a park. Seated next to him is a motionless woman with bare shoulders,
who is seen from behind leaning slightly forward. As he falls the wounded man
attempts to seize and stroke her shoulders; one of his hands is turned shaking
toward himself; the other brushes against the skin of the naked shoulders.
Finally he falls to the ground. View from afar. A few passers-by and several
park-keepers rush over to help. They pick him up in their arms and bear him away
through the woods. Let the passionate lame man play a role here. And we are back
at the same room. A door, the one in which the hand had been caught, now opens
slowly. The young woman we already know appears. She closes the door behind her
and stares very attentively at the wall against which the murderer had stood.
The man is no longer there. The wall is bare, without any furniture or
decoration. The young woman makes a gesture of vexation and impatience. The wall
is seen again; in the middle of it there is a small black spot. Seen much closer,
this small spot appears to be a death's-head moth. Close-up of the moth. The
death's head on the moth's wings fills the whole screen. The man who was wearing
ruffles comes suddenly into view in a medium shot bringing his hand swiftly to
his mouth as though he were losing his teeth. The young woman looks at him
disdainfully. When the man takes away his hand, we see that his mouth has
disappeared. The young woman seems to be saying to him: "Well, and what
next?" and then she touches up her lips with a lipstick. We see again the
man's head. Hair begins to sprout where his mouth had been. Having caught sight
of this, the young woman stifles a cry and swiftly examines her armpit which is
completely depilated. She scornfully sticks out her tongue at him, throws a
shawl over her shoulders, and, opening the door near her, goes into the adjacent
room which is a wide beach. A third character is waiting for her near the
water's edge. They greet each other very amiably, and meander together down the
waterline. A shot of their legs and the waves breaking at their feet. The camera
follows them in a dolly shot. The waves gently wash ashore at their feet, first,
the straps, then the striped box followed by the ruffles, and finally the
bicycle. This shot continues a moment longer without anything else being washed
ashore. They continue their walk on the beach, little by little fading from
view, while in the sky appear the words:
IN THE SPRING
Everything has changed. We see now a desert without
end. We see the man and the young woman in the center, sunk in sand up to their
chests, blinded, their clothes in tatters, devoured by the sun and by swarms of
insects. Original Shooting Script by Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí Translated
by Haim Finkelstein