There are things I cannot forget.
It seems unbelievable how memories can be so very strong.
Ana, in Cria.

The first thing that people outside of Spain need to understand about Carlos Saura’s 1976 film Cria, also known as Cria! or Cria Cuervos, is that, if you haven’t seen it, you’re missing out on an excellent piece of cinema. You won’t find anywhere a more evocative rendering of the mysteries of childhood and the strange inner mind of children than this film provides.

The subject matter of Cria exists on two levels – psychodrama and political allegory. As political allegory, it is a five-star film. Unfortunately, the full political meaning of the film will be lost on viewers who have less than a passing understanding of twentieth century Spanish history and society, including the Franco era and the subsequent transition to a more open and less patriarchal society. As psychodrama, Cria, in my judgment, is only a four-star film – in a way that breaks my heart. It is the kind of film that falls just one step short of utter greatness. It lacks only a point or resolution to the psychological aspects of the film to have achieved full success on both of the levels on which it operates. This film is truly Berman-esque in the depth of the psychological elements that it introduces but fails to pull those elements fully together into a cohesive message or insight.

Historical Background: From the end of the Spanish Civil War, around 1939, until General Franco’s death in 1975, Spain was under the yoke of a Fascist, reactionary, conservative and patriarchal government. Dissension was ferociously suppressed and strict censorship enforced. Cria, produced in 1976, was one of the first important Spanish films to emerge during the post-Franco thaw, known as the destape. Every individual in Cria can be seen as a metaphorical representation of an aspect of Spain’s past or present as of 1976. The sternness of the treatment of the children by Aunt Paulina can be likened to the strict authoritarianism of the Franco government. The denial of truth and lack of communication with the children also parallels the lack of openness of the Franco regime with its citizens. The father, as a military man, depicts the Spanish military, more concerned with its prerogatives than the welfare of the children (or citizens). The mother can be seen as representing the abuse and repression of women under the strictly patriarchal society of the Franco years. Even the old catatonic grandmother can be seen as the elderly of Spain, nostalgically remembering the golden days of the brief Spanish Republic. Ana and her sisters represent the youth of Spain in 1978, scarred by traumas of childhood in a repressive era but ready and excited to take on the hopes of a new future.

The Story: Ana (Ana Torrent), an inquisitive, angelic girl, awakens in the early part of the night and starts down the stairs to get a glass of water from the kitchen. She stops on the stairs, listening impassively to sounds from her father’s room. He, Anselmo (Hector Alterio), is in the midst of a tryst with his best friend’s wife, Amelia (Mirta Miller). As he whispers sweet nothings to her, he is suddenly struck down by a heart attack. Amelia hastily dresses and dashes out of the room as Ana stands a few steps up the staircase watching. Amelia buttons up, glaces at Ana, gathers items she has dropped in her haste, then dashes out of the house – anxious to avoid a scandal. Ana walks into the room, looks at the vacant face of her dead father, then, impassively takes the water glass from the bed stand, washes it thoroughly and places it among other glasses on the drying rack. Immediately, viewers recognize that we are not dealing, here, with an ordinary little girl nor an ordinary film.

Ana is the middle of three sisters, the older one being Irene (Conchita Pérez) and the younger one Maite (Maite Sanchez). (Some cast listings give the youngest sisters name as Juana, which is probably how it is spoken in Spanish, but the English subtitles say “Maite.”) These children are orphaned by the death of their father since their mother, Maria (Geraldine Chaplin), had passed away a year or two earlier. Though Ana is indifferent about her father’s death, she loved her mother deeply. They were kindred spirits – two peas in a pod. Ana has inherited her mother’s looks and disposition, including an observant but melancholy outlook. Ana yearns for her mother and has visions and recollections of her from time to time. After her father’s death, she imagines her mother appearing to her in the kitchen, reminding her how late it is and that she should be in bed.

Following their father’s death, Aunt Paulina (Mónica Randall) and the childrens’ elderly grandmother (Josefina Díaz), move into their country estate to care for the children. The grandmother is in an early stage of senility, however, and mainly exists in the memories afforded by her collage of pictures tacked to a large panel. Aunt Pauline is a decent sort of woman, but somewhat stern and lacking in affectionate nature. She sincerely tries to gain the love of the children, but is not especially adept at doing so. Most of the care for the children falls to Rosa, an affable, large-bosomed maid.

Some of the most noteworthy scenes in the film depict the three sisters playing together in their own unique world of make-belief. There is a tender and touching scene where the three girls dance together to a record and another where they get into their Aunt’s clothing and make-up. Irene tries on one of her Aunt’s bras and explains to Ana that she will have to wear one someday or she won’t be able to run. Meanwhile, Maite is prancing around in a pair of high heels. Ana puts on lipstick while Irene does her lashes and then used the eyeliner to draw herself a mustache. They then act out a familiar scene from their past – an argument between their mother and father, with Irene playing the philandering father, Ana the disconsolate mother, and Maite the maid.

Through flashbacks, we learn more about the mother, Maria. Maria died of some kind of wasting disease, but had long suffered from a degree of mental illness, which I would classify as depression with anxiety. The depression, in my judgment, was exacerbated by her husband’s unfaithfulness, but appears to be also partly endogenous. Her daughters, but most especially Ana, appear to me to have inherited the endogenous portion of the problem. All of the women in this family, from the grandmother (who is most likely the maternal grandmother, since Aunt Paulina is the mother’s sister), to the mother, and the three young girls all exhibit vacuous smiles but an otherwise listless disposition. All are somewhat pensive and withdrawn, though Ana most of all. It is no surprise that Rosa comments that Ana moves and speaks like her mother. (Saura underscores the similarity between Ana and her mother by having both the mother and the adult Ana played by the same actress – Geraldine Chaplin.) It is a mistake, in my opinion, to attribute all of Maria’s problem to her husband’s infidelity. In fact, there’s a hint in the film that he found Amelia appealing precisely because she was affectionate and sensual. Maria, by contrast, was something of a whiner and complainer with her husband and the love had gone out of their life together. Maria was capable of affection with Ana, at times, and the two engaged in tender biting and kissing games and hair-combing activities. Between those moments of tenderness, however, Maria was mostly brooding and listless.

Ana is somewhat obsessed with death, although it is not especially uncommon for death to be a pervasive issue with some children. She experiences suicidal ideation, including visualizing herself leaping from a tall building. Having witnessed the deaths of both her parents (as well as her guinea pig) at such a young age, it is perhaps not surprising that she would have issues surrounding death. As her mother lay dying and squirming in pain, Ana had heard her say, “Nothing exists. They’ve cheated me. I’m afraid. I don’t want to die.” While these words probably lacked definitive meaning to Ana, certainly the ideas and images evoked by the words have to be difficult for a little child. The children even played a variation of hide-and-seek in which those hiding, when spotted, had to feign death. Then, once all were dead, the seeker recited a kind of resurrection prayer that included the lines, “Guardian Angels, revive my sisters.” Obviously, Ana would very much like to have been able to revive her mother.

Rosa is the only person in the children’s lives who is honest with them. She talks openly with them about their father’s infidelities. She herself had found it necessary to keep out of his reach. By contrast, Aunt Paulina cares more about “reputation” and “appearances.” She insists that Ana recant on her story about her father spending his last night with Amelia. Ana learns that lies are oftentimes more acceptable than the truth. Later, Paulina takes up an affair with Amelia’s husband, Nicolas Garontes (German Cobos).

Ana is in possession of a canister that her mother asked her to throw out, claiming that it was a deadly poison – a spoonful of which would kill an elephant. Ana had placed a spoonful of it in her father’s water glass and believes herself responsible for his death. Hence, the washing of the water glass in the opening scene. She later adds a spoonful to her Aunt’s glass of milk, anticipating her demise as well. Instead, her Aunt is up as usual in the morning having slept especially well. Personally, I think it would have made for a better story if the powder turned out to be a powerful cathartic, but apparently it was only some kind of soporific.

The final scene leaves viewers with a feeling of optimism. Vacation having ended, the three girls return to boarding school for another semester. The children are abuzz and hope is in the air. The traumas of childhood aside, the future looks bright.

Themes: The political theme is clear enough. The Franco years in Spain were repressive and traumatic for many Spaniards. Those who were children during that time period will have less than the usual rosy nostalgia for their childhoods. As of 1978, the future in Spain looked a good deal rosier than the past.

Ana’s psychological status is not resolved nearly so well in this film. Although Saura furnishes several flash-forwards of Ana as an adult – still obviously harboring aftershocks from her difficult childhood – it is exclusively in the form of narration by Ana, without any context. We don’t even know to whom she is speaking. Like her mother, the adult Ana appears to suffer from a degree of both depression and anxiety. We have watched Ana as a child groping extraordinarily with fundamental issues of human existence, from illness and death to honesty, nurturance, and womanhood – but we are not made privy to how those profound experiences have played out in Ana’s psyche as an adult. It is all too much a study of antecedents without a view of the sequelae. The optimistic ending, with the girls trotting merrily off to school, full of hope, rings hollow precisely because we know that Ana’s issues from childhood remain unresolved in the adult Ana.

Production Values: The scripting and the filming of the childhood scenes in this film are really quite beautiful. I know of no more poignant depiction of the deep inner life of children than we see here. That by itself makes this film a must-see.

The performance of Ana by 9-year-old Ana Torrent won worldwide acclaim, likening her to such other wunderkind as Tatum O’Neal. Ana was already an experienced actress when she participated in this film, having been previously cast in Spirit of the Beehive (1973). Geraldine Chaplin, daughter of the great Charles Chaplin, has a long resume that includes Doctor Zhivago (1965), The Three Musketeers (1973), Welcome to L.A. (1976), The Age of Innocence (1993), and Talk to Her (2002). Hector Alterio, the father, is a fine actor as well. He played the lead male role in The Official Story opposite an award-winning performance by Norma Aleandro.

Bottom-Line: Cria is an exceptionally touching portrayal of the inner turmoil that childhood sometimes is. Its beauty lies in both its script and cinematography. For those with some understanding of life in Spain in the last half-century or so, the entire film can be viewed as political allegory. Even without that level of appreciation, the performance by Ana Torrent and the depth of insights into the inner mind of childhood make this film highly worthwhile. It is just one thread short of masterpiece status, needing a stronger resolution of the psychodrama. I highly recommend it to one and all.


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You might want to check out these other excellent films from Spain:

L’Age D’Or
All About My Mother
Belle Epoque
Butterfly
Carmen
El
The Grandfather
Labyrinth of Passion
Sex and Lucía
Spirit of the Beehive
Talk to Her
Thesis
Tie Me Up! Time Me Down!
Tierra
Tristana
Vacas
Viridiana
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older