Review of Un Chien Andalou (1929) by Kalel J — 13 Sep 2007

More along the lines of an experiment in aesthetics rather than an ingrown example of cinema, Bunuel's innovative piece of surrealism is a film to admire for it's pioneering steps in the conversion of pictures to moving imagery. The film feels like the dabbings of a paintbrush in a seemingly randomised portrait - cohesive elements of film and a leveled rythm are distinguished immediately as we are thrust into this strange world, alternating between memorable imagery and incongruous concepts.

From beginning to end, Un Chien Andalou is filled with memorable imagery brought upon through an artist's insight into the cinematographic process. Dali's inflictions are felt throughout the iconic images of the eye splitting, the ant-ridden hand clutching through a door space, and the donkey corpse in the piano. The film never makes sense, but like all post-modernistic art - it doesn't need to. Instead, we are meant to sit and admire the visual implications of the film, rather than delve into it's non-existent philosophies.

However, what truly pushes this short film further into the minds of film enthusiast's comes through it's stunning editing, where techniques seem to be at a first here. The film's claims to cinematography and editing alone make the film canonical for lovers of the medium.

A technical masterpiece with translucent traditional film needs, Un Chien Andalou is a visual masterpiece in it's own right. The experiment pays off in the sense of pioneering film methods and burning images into the minds of the audience.