Rojo y negro (Carlos Arévalo, 1942)

Chelsea Street:

In his film Rojo y Negro Arévalo broke several social and political standards after the Spanish Civil War and made his voice heard in a changing time. Aside from his views on Falangism, which were clearly portrayed in this film, the most notable issue he addresses is gender roles. The strong character qualities of the women in this film and the fact that he placed a woman in the lead role went against the established gender views in the forties. He could have chosen to do this for many reasons but I argue that he specifically used a woman to draw parallels between the changing political and gender climates and to highlight that change in gender roles was just as important as every other form of change.

To start, let it be said that there are several reasons that Arévalo could have placed a woman in the leading role of his film. First of all, he could have chosen this simply to make a poignant love story in order to demonstrate the destructive nature of war and politics. The main plot of this film centers on the childhood love between Miguel and Luisa that is constantly divided by political views. Because homosexuality was not as widely accepted during that period as it is today, a woman was needed to be the counterpart for the tale of the two lovers. However, this argument is far too superficial and overlooks Luisa’s strength and convictions; it also overlooks the other women in the film and their strong character traits. The second fitting reason for this is that Arévalo was reflecting the presence of women in the Falangist party, specifically the Sección Feminina. Without a doubt, women held a very important role in the recovery after the civil war but they were torn in an identity between what Nino Kebadze terms as “oscillating between demure/traditional and enterprising/modern”[1]. Women had forever been viewed as caretakers and the upholding of this view was paramount in Falangist ideals. However, as Fuentes notes, with the decrease in the population of men that the war had caused, “la mujer timidamente había comenzado a tomar decisiones y responsibilidades que la había permitido disponer de un poco de independencia con respecto al hombre”[2]. Thus, women in this time were torn between the ideal of the housewife or caretaker bent under a patriarchal hand and an expectation to stand up and make decisions that would bring Spain to a better future. While this description fits Luisa’s character, this explanation is also too simple. Arévalo never directly stated that any of the women were of the Sección Femenina and it also does not account for the messages about change that Arévalo implemented through Luisa. Thus, the argument remains that Arévalo’s use of women in this film was to create parallels between changes in politics and society and the importance of changes in gender relations.

The first piece of evidence to support this focuses on the image of women and destruction. In the beginning of the film, as the two children walked by a shop, a model ship caught Miguel’s eye and a superimposed image of a beautiful ship named Luisita passed through his mind. When Luisa asked if she could be on his ship someday he denied her, telling her that women are bad luck and cause ships to be destroyed. First of all, this scene immediately makes Arévalo’s feminist message clearly known when Luisa responds saying that she will dress as a man, anything that’s necessary, even get a tattoo, to show that she can be allowed on a ship, to show that she is just as brave, if not braver, than any man. [3] Secondly, this short scene also highlighted an ideal for women that they were to be controlled by men, like a ship, but never allowed control of, or even presence on, ships for fear of destruction. Several years later in the lives of Luisa and Miguel, Arévalo brought the destructive stereotype to life and confirmed it by killing Miguel, the figurehead for the Republican Party. With this example Arévalo confirmed that women do have destructive powers. Luisa had a hold on Miguel’s heart and her death led him to his suicide. However, instead of ending it at the destruction women can cause he went a step further by showing the ultimate good they can bring, as demonstrated through Miguel’s revelation. It was only through Luisa’s death that Miguel saw the quote written on the wall near the field of San Isidro and recognized the error of his ways, creating both a touching love story and powerful political propaganda. She was empowered, and like a woman allowed on a ship, brought destruction, but in Arévalo’s opinion, destruction for the better. The parallels made in these scenes reflect what Arévalo believed needed to happen in society in order for it to be rebuilt properly. The minority was in desperate need of empowerment, in this case falangism and women, and in due course of allowing this empowerment and presence the change would cause some pain and destruction, but would overall lead to the growth and betterment of the country.

The second evidence is the political side to which Arévalo assigned gender. In the film, almost all of the republicans shown are men (with the exception of Julio) and all of the falangists shown are women. This said it also becomes progressively more evident that all of the men are represented with terrible character. They are all causing destruction, or death, or are furiously shouting. Furthermore, during “El Día”, there are a few shots showing men discussing business but they are all blindfolded, while the women are shown holding a conference as well, but none of them are blindfolded. The most important example of the Republicans against Falangism is Luisa’s rape. This example was a very literal, and explicit, portrayal of Arévalo’s view of leftist ideals and there are very few ways that he could have expressed it better than through the rape of a woman. Clearly, these examples demonstrate Arévalo’s political views, showing that he believed the republicans to be evil and blindly leading Spain, but these examples also serve as a promotion for women. By showing the women leading clear-eyed he is portraying women as an important key to the reconstruction of Spain. Beyond this, while the rape of Luisa is politically symbolic, when taken literally it is just as important to note that he is asking for women to be looked at as more than just a sexual object, for which DeLaurentis notes, “In cinema the stakes for women are especially high…[they are a] body to be looked at, place of sexuality, and object to be desired”.[4]  Furthermore, as Sánchez notes, the act of rape itself is not shown, in order to preserve the honor of the woman, and the non-filmed image itself is one of the greatest strengths of the film Rojo y negro.[5] Arévalo did not need to explicitly portray the rape by tainting the screen, and the woman, with that image in order to successfully convey his message. In short, with Arévalo’s political leaning already well known, he used his positive bias toward falangism to propel his promotion of women. If he would have put a man in the role of Luisa, it would have just been another story about two political sides fighting until the best man won, but with the addition of women the battle changed entirely. The fight itself, between the Spanish Republic and the Nationalists, is no longer important, because in his mind that battle was already won. The battle that he addressed was the representation and the respect of women. Thus, by taking his already positive representation of Falangism and putting a woman as the figurehead for that party he placed women on the same pedestal as his political convictions.

The final evidence towards the importance of reformation in gender relations through Rojo y Negro that ties all of the above together is Arévalo’s unmistakable theme of advancement. Aside from the obvious propaganda of this film, the main message is the advancement of society in all aspects, which was especially appropriate considering the reconstruction that Spain was undergoing at the time. First of all, the film moves in a sequence of morning to night, from the light to the darkness, and from life to death. Second, in the series of superimpositions between the morning and the afternoon Arévalo integrated segments showing time moving forward with the clock tower and bell toll, life ending, new life beginning, and demonstrated scientific advancement through a scientist writing notes as he peered into a microscope. With the characters specifically, he tackled the problem of social status and political convictions, in both of which Arévalo once again used gender to make his point. Social status is important to note because, even though subtle, it is noteworthy that Luisa comes from a high-class family and Miguel is from a working class. In Falangism the idea of a trans-class society was extremely important and was already a huge historical step. However, that was only magnified when Arévalo placed a woman in a more privileged role. The final example of advancement is, as briefly discussed earlier, Miguel’s final rejection of his leftist beliefs and his step towards falangism. As a propagandist film the point of Miguel’s epiphany and conversion is pivotal to the plot and this turning point was enacted through Luisa. This moment marked the conclusion of the minority fighting for recognition against the majority, both for falangism and for women. Arévalo gave falangism victory over the reign of the republicans with Miguel’s death and forever imprinted Luisa’s beauty on the hearts and minds of the viewers with her strength and sacrifice for her convictions.

Though similar to many of its crusade and propagandist film contemporaries, when comparing them to Rojo y Negro, as Sánchez puts it, “Las plumas que las escriben y las cámaras que las filman no podrían ser más dispares”. [6] Arévalo, specifically in this film, was audacious in his characterization of the enemy and courageous in the casting of a strong woman. Luisa was a crucial character in this film and was inextricably tied to every symbol of advancement in this film, both mentioned and unmentioned. First she acted as a subordinate that was empowered to bring down the ship of a crooked regime, then as an example of innocence oppressed by the cruelty of the leftists, and finally as a sacrifice to a broken world helping it to break from its past and advance to a brighter future. All of which uncovered women from the shroud of patriarchy and brought them into the world, and not just involvement in the world but as the most important tool to create a better world. Brilliantly, Arévalo simultaneously tackled the fight between Falangism and the Republic, while calling for a promotion of women in society by challenging the norms of gender representation in film, sending both a political and social message.

Biibliografía

CAPARROS LERA, J.M.: Historia crítica del cine español. Barcelona: Ariel Historia,

1999.

CASTRO DE PAZ, José Luis: Un Cinema Herido. Barcelona: Ediciones Paidós Ibérica,

2002.

DELAURETIS, Teresa. Alice Doesn’t: Feminism, Semiotics, Cinema. Bloomington:

Indiana University Press. 1984.

FUENTES, Carmen Rodriguez: Las Actrices en el Cine Español.  Málaga: Caligrama

Ediciones.

GLENN, Kathleen and FERRÁN, Ofelia. Women’s Narrative and Film in Twentieth

Century Spain: A World of Difference(s). New York: Routledge. 2002.

KEBADZE, Nino. The Right to be Selfless and Other Prerogatives of the Weak in the

Rhetoric of Sección Femenina.  Romance Quarterly, 55(2), 109-127.

SÁNCHEZ-BIOSCA, Vicente: Cine y Guerra Civil Española: Del Mito a la Memoria.

Madrid: Alianza Editorial. 2006.

Chelsea Street, 2013.