Must sí

Machuca

Photo: Menemsha Entertainment

¿Como se dice “the man who fell to Earth” en español? David Bowie has not only starred in movies, but scored and inspired them (see Todd Haynes’s glam-rock valentine Velvet Goldmine). Now he curates them, presenting ten of his favorite Spanish-language films during the High Line Festival.

How did you discover these films? Did you see them in theaters, on television or on DVD?

All three.

Is Spanish-language cinema a particular passion of yours?

It is now. For this festival I chose to go with either a single European director, or a personalized overview of a genre of some kind. I heard that the work of the director that I had homed in on was to be shown in spring by another organization, so I opted for my other choice, namely Latin American and Spanish film of the last 100 years—and what a fortuitous one it has been! It's so exciting to dive headfirst into this world. Such talent, and there’s great innovation going on. Like many people, I was really only aware of the most obvious work, Almodóvar, Buñuel, Saura and a few others. But being thrown in at the deep end—this is how I like to find things. And I really make the effort.

This is such a fascinating array of films. Is there anything that links them together?

Terror—mine. It was imperative to me that I pull together an eclectic choice not too familiar to the audience. Discovery was the keyword. I could call this selection, “One Hundred Years of ‘Look What I’ve Found.’”

It’s interesting that there are no films by Pedro Almodóvar or Carlos Saura—who are considered the biggest names in Spanish-language cinema—on your list. Why is that?

And no Buñuel, unhappily. Devising a 100-year presentation has been harder than I possibly could have imagined. The opener on the tenth of May, El Automóvil Gris, was one of the few existing great films of the 1910s. And when I heard that Teatro de Ciertos Habitantes was available to perform against it, it seemed to be falling into place so easily. (ciertoshabitantes.com/)

But then the ’20s posed a problem, as very little was made till the talkies, and what was made is in dreadful shape. I compensated by using two ’30s movies, one of them being a very rare showing of Dos Monjes (Two Monks), showing that German Expressionism was alive and kicking in the mid-’30s in Mexico. This was recommended by Carlos Gutiérrez of Cinema Tropical, who has been instrumental in booking all the films. The ’40s lighten up a little with Aventurera, with its suicides, prostitution, dancing in fruit hats. Oh yeah!

Buñuel nearly got the ’50s with Los Olvidados, but there are legal battles over it, apparently, so I’m working on the very dark Argentinian piece La Casa del Ángel, by Torre Nilsson. By the time of Alea’s 1968 classic Memories of Underdevelopment into the present, I found it harder to choose from the overwhelming number of great movies being made.  So I really had to lose the obvious choices and go with little-known pieces that I felt may not have been as widely seen: for the ’90s, Medem’s Lovers from the Arctic Circle, for instance, rather than Tango, say, or All About My Mother, brilliant as they are. For every one that I placed, there are 15 I had to pass over.

I’m so delighted to see The Spirit of the Beehive on your list.

I think it’s one of the best films about childhood ever made. The recent Machuca also explores childhood with great intelligence. Do you think it’s accurate to say that Spanish-language cinema excels in depictions of youth?

Yes, and I think there’s one very cogent reason for that. It’s possible that Latin America, having been plunged in and out of war and revolution so consistently for so much of its existence, has the child in all that it surveys. Identity is still forming. So the child of the film, whether tormented or betrayed, in awe or in rapture, is reflecting the conditions of an ever-changing and evolving identity.

I am a huge fan of Aventurera, also. Did the amazing theatrics of Ninón Sevilla, the film’s star, ever inspire you?

LOL, erm…no.

Are you a fan of the “new wave” of directors emerging from Argentina—Lucrecia Martel, Pablo Trapero, Albertina Carri?

Of those three, I only know Martel. And what a find she is. I can’t wait to see how she will develop. She’s working in a swelter of claustrophobic sensuality, not all of it “good” sensuality. She’s creating life patterns rather than straightforward narratives with backstory. Her work is very exciting.

How often do you go to the movies?

Maybe once a week. Not like I used to. I’ve become a DVD guy.

The program runs May 11 through 20 at Quad Cinema. For a schedule, go to highlinefestival.com.

Plus:

• High fidelity: David Bowie curates the High Line Festival, recruiting pals Ricky Gervais, Arcade Fire and more to benefit the elevated park (which the fest isn’t on or, at times, even near). Our exclusive behind-the-scenes preview explains it all.
• Flipping the bird: Performance artist Laurie Anderson gets “weird” again, filling another show with feathered friends. A David Bowie interview.
• Pussy galore: The bizarre chanteuse Meow Meow gets ready to pounce.
• Cyberspace oddity: Exclusive! Bowie interviews Ricky Gervais by e-mail—sort of!
• Must sí: Ziggy zeroes in on ten Spanish-language flicks.
• Keeping track: More highlights of the High Line Festival.
• High Line: Behind the scenes: What does it takes to turn a stretch of land from overgrown weed patch to beautiful High Line? Adrian Benepe, commissioner of the Parks & Recreation Department, tells us.
• The Time Out New York High Line Guide: Your ultimate resource for swank eats, stylin' stores and everything under the trestle.
• High Line in progress: The developers of the High Line gave Time Out exclusive access to their bird’s-eye site photography. See how the construction zone stands today and a few details about what it will become.