The Grandfather, based on a novel by Galdos and directed by Jose Luis Garci, is one of those films about which there will never be consensus of opinion. Like many films, it has both strengths and weaknesses, and there seems to be relatively little disagreement among various critics as to what those strengths and weaknesses are. Instead, the disagreement emerges over the relative weight to be assigned to the strengths and to the weaknesses in determining the overall worthiness of this film. If there were twenty Epinion reviews of this film, it’s probably a safe proposition that the ratings might range all the way from two stars to five stars, based on viewer priorities.

Let’s start with the strengths. First off, this film examines in a way that is both fresh and incisive the issue of the essential nature of real love. And, it wastes no time in getting started with its musings. The film, which is set in Spain at the beginning of the twentieth century, opens with a handsome, upper class woman, Dona Lucretia (Cayetana Guillén) and her date, a highly situated politician, returning to her home after an evening out. It quickly becomes clear that their affair is about to come to an end. The lady offers a toast to her soon to be ex-lover, “To eternal love . . . and the short time it lasts.” We are immediately reminded, through this scene, of the limited durability of the kind of love that films most often portray – love based on romance and sexual passion.

From that opening thought, we then turn to the crux of the story. An old man, the aged Count of Albrit (Fernando Fernan-Gomez), has returned home to his former country estate in Spain after many years in Peru, where he has squandered his fortune in the Peruvian version of the gold rush. During his absence, the family’s Spanish properties 3had passed to his son and, then, after his son’s death, to his daughter-in-law, Dona Lucretia. The Count’s relationship with his daughter-in-law, never more than tolerably civil, is now severely strained on account of the Count having learned from his son’s last letter of an extramarital affair between Dona Lucretia and a painter. Worse still, the letter informed the Count that one of the Count’s two lovely granddaughters is, in fact, the product of that illicit affair. The letter did not, however, indicate which granddaughter is the legitimate heir of the Count and which the other. That uncertainty provides the driving force of the story. The proud old aristocratic Count has returned home for the express purpose of cleansing the family escutcheon of this blotch of illegitimacy. Now, viewers have duly laid out before them a second traditional meaning of love: love based on blood ties. The Count is determined to learn which granddaughter is his true heir and to disassociate himself from the other. This intriguing premise provides a very solid foundation for the film

The Count is greeted with excitement and warmth by both granddaughters. Both are lovely creatures: Dolly (Christina Cruz) and Nelly (Alicia Rozas). Each holds one of his hands as they walk him up to the dwelling where he once ruled as master, but which is now owned by former family retainers. Here, the principal subcommentary is introduced: a reflection of changing class relationships, illuminated through the persistence of haughty pride in the old man, despite now being penniless and dependent, toward those once beneath his station juxtaposed against his poor treatment by former servants and townspeople who once depended entirely on him for employment, charity, and town improvements.

When the Count confronts Dona Lucretia about the intelligence he received from his son about her affair, she acknowledges the truth of the accusation, but makes it clear that she will not divulge which child is legitimate and which not. She is not going to allow the life of one of her children to be destroyed by her parentage coming under a cloud. Having failed to gain satisfaction directly, the Count resolves to identify which child is his legitimate heir by spending time with them and closely observing their predilections and characteristics, presuming that his true heir will manifest genetic characteristics of the Albrit lineage. He learns, for example, that the younger daughter, Nelly, has a talent for painting. When he inquires who taught her, she indicates that she just always had a natural talent for it. Since artistry has not been much of an Albrit talent, he imagines this as one piece of evidence that Nelly is the child of the painter. He imagines, also, a similarity in the texture and smell of the hair of the older daughter, Dolly, to that of his own deceased wife. He notes also Dolly exhibiting the Albrit pride and, even, arrogance when she chastises the former retainers for not treating her grandfather with greater deference. Although both granddaughters love spending time with their grandfather, it is Dolly who grows most attached to him and protective of him, as they spend time together.

Dona Lucretia decides that she will return to Paris with the girls. For the girls, it offers an opportunity to attend a much better school as well as all the social opportunities and excitement that only Paris can provide. Dolly, however, is concerned about leaving her grandfather alone, without family love and at the mercy of the ungrateful and uncaring former servants and townspeople. The Count, now fully convinced that Dolly is his rightful heir, and Dolly both implore Dona Lucretia to allow Dolly to remain in the country with her grandfather. Dona Lucretia ultimately relents, but not before also informing the Count, in a manner that can leave no doubt as to the truth, that it is, in fact, Nelly, who is the Count’s legitimate granddaughter. Now, the Count and we, the viewers, must reckon the value of a third variety of love – love based on neither romantic attraction nor family ties, but, arguably, the purest kind of love of all. A love based on simple caring. The genuine love of a girl for the man that she believes to be her grandfather. We and the Count must now ask ourselves what kind of love is most important? What kind of love is most durable? I think that it is largely on the basis of the film’s success in positing these profound questions that it was nominated in the Best Foreign Film category at the Oscars in 1999.

Another strength of The Grandfather is the performances – most especially the performance of Fernando Fernan-Gomez as the grandfather. He effectively exploits the actor's full arsenal to give depth and complexity to his character: facial expressiveness, sad and weary eyes, and an old man’s gait. He fully embraces the Count’s worthiness as well as his haughty pride and even rudeness, bringing out the full complexity of this grand old man. The performances in the three lead female parts (Dona Lucretia and her two daughters) are very effective as well. The performances in the supporting parts are quite adequate though these roles are too close to caricatures to be truly satisfying despite good efforts.

The scenic Spanish landscapes provide many opportunities for lush cinematography, but, many times, the interiors are filmed to nearly as great advantage, emphasizing soft yellow hues as might occur in candlelight. The musical score is built around mainly two sources: Satie’s enchanting Gymnopedie I and Elgar’s Nimrod. These are liltingly lovely melodies but, perhaps, overused in this film.

The principal weaknesses of this movie are in its script and its pace. The quality of the dialogue is oftentimes weak, clichéd, and dull. The pace of the film is never quicker than languid and, at times, downright sluggish. When the story is pursuing its main thesis – the real nature of love (or real love vs. pride in blood ties), the emotional charge is sufficient to pull the viewer through the phlegmatic tempo, but the minor themes don’t succeed well enough to maintain interest with a pace so listless. The social commentary about changing class distinctions is weakened by dependence on largely stereotypical characterizations, such as obsequious politicians and bureaucrats whose loyalties shift as quickly as the standing of those to whom they kowtow. A second subplot involving emerging friendship between the Count and the granddaughters’ suicidal old tutor creates a little anticipation as to how it will all play out in the end, but gets tedious in its development.

So, what it comes down to, mainly, is that your tastes and needs as a viewer will determine whether this movie will be a worthwhile viewing experience for you. It has a meaningful message, a fascinating premise, quality performances in the lead roles, and frequently appealing cinematography. You need, however, to be a person with a taste for, or at least patience for, Garci’s languid pace of exposition. The film runs nearly two-and-a-half hours. It is in Spanish with English subtitles. In addition to its Academy Award nomination, it received twelve Spanish Goya nominations.


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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
Cria!
El
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

Viewing Format: VHS
Video Occasion: Good for a Rainy Day
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older