Film Review--El Topo (1970)

The scene is pretty familiar to Western fans: a man in black rides slowly through the open desert. Pausing briefly to force his unclothed son to bury his favorite toy and his mother’s picture in a display of his emerging adulthood (maybe that’s not so common), he continues on until he arrives in town. There, he sees the aftermath of an epic massacre; man, woman, and child all lying in pools of blood and curled around their slaughtered animals. He and his son coldly walk through the grue and enter the church. There, they find a mass more dead, all hung from the rafters. They find a lone survivor, an old man, who begs the stranger to kill him. El Topo hands his son a pistol, and he shoots the old man through the belly. This cold, brutal scene begins the spiritual journey of El Topo, both of Alejandro Jodorowski’s mystical western and the silent, violent title character, played by Jodorowski himself. With each subsequent scene, the story touches on more than can be counted becomes more and more violent and increasingly surreal.

El Topo and son leave town as coldly as they came, but not before our hero robbing the victims. On their way out, three of killers attack. El Topo shoots two in the face and tortures one to get the name of their boss: The Colonel. The Colonel is crippled and decrepit, able to do little except have his feet kissed. But, as he dons his uniform, he gains power and takes on the posture of royalty. Villains beyond villainy, his group makes games out of shooting restrained men with machine guns and raping monks and, as he throws his concubine to them for their amusement, El Topo rides into town, exacting vengeance on the gang and, finally, emasculating The Colonel. In gratitude, the saved woman begs El Topo to take her with him. Though he agrees, he only has room on his horse for two and he (literally) kicks his son to the sand, forcing him into the hands of the surviving monks and riding off into the sunset with his new girlfriend. She praises his skills but, for her dubious devotion, demands he murder the four great gunfighters of the desert. So begins his rewardless quest, one in which he cheats tricks to win, which leads to both his own villainy and murder. But only part of El Topo has died. Years later, he awakens, wild-eyed in a cavern, care for by the crippled, deformed outcasts from the town, whose only desire is to escape the cave. El Topo now has a purpose and a method to atone for the heinous actions of his former life and, when he completes this quest, he will be granted the reward of enlightenment.

There is a lot going on in El Topo, more than I can write here and much more than I realized when I first saw a bootlegged copy of the film a decade ago. By using the anti-hero paradigm and settings of the Italian westerns, Jodorowski is deftly able to spin a tale of a man’s search for spiritual enlightenment and, though he is often as cruel and brutal as his adversaries (and, sometimes, the definite antagonist), there is sympathy for his remorse. Because of this familiar setting, as well as a masterful use of surreal imagery, he is able to satirize religion of all types and the decadent social hierarchy of the elite; effective, biting criticism that still rings true. This may be the one big problem with the film, however, at the same time: there is, indeed, so much going on that he can’t focus on one point and, thus, is sometimes muddled. Jodorowski is certain of his viewpoint, but it is often not as clear as it could be (or would be in his next film, Holy Mountain). Sometimes, his switching of subject is jarring and it may take a little while to understand where he’s suddenly coming from. Moreover, as a result, the plot suffers. There isn’t a lot of spoken dialogue and, with much of the story coming visually, there is more to invest and it can come off as jumpy.

That said, from a visual standpoint, there are few who can go match Jodorowski’s imagery and command of the camera. Even if one doesn’t remember the plot or the character’s names, there will inevitably be images used (in all of Jodorowski’s films) that are impossible to shake. Whether these images are violent, religious, or erotic, they etch themselves in the mind. Again, this is sometimes to the film's own detriment but, as a visual piece, image after image is shot in such unique ways that, though the scenery is familiar, and even passe in 1970, are unmatched by even the finest western directors, including Leone.

While El Topo is extraordinarily cruel in its violence, disturbing in its sexuality, and obscure in its imagery, it is fast paced and striking in how it demands repeat viewings. For those who love their Westerns truly beautiful and truly bizarre, there is no higher recommendation from me than El Topo. That this is the first official video release of this film is a travesty. Right about a year ago, I had lamented the fact that I hadn’t been able to see Holy Mountain, but I now realize that I’d never truly seen El Topo, either. Anchor Bay’s restoration of the movie is a truly a feat. That his movie had not officially seen the light of day in over thirty years, the print, the colors, the sound are all phenomenal, impeccable given the film’s treatment. This will, without a doubt (along with the entire Jodorowski boxed set, including Holy Mountain, Fando y Lis, La Cravate and two soundtracks) is the best DVD release of 2007, and I have a hard time seeing anything coming close.