Goya's GhostsAn artist has a responsibility to chronicle his perception of the world in all its beauty and all its horror. Francisco Goya is widely regarded as a revolutionary artist, sometimes heralded as the "last of the classical artists and the first of the moderns". His style was evocative, both lovely and fiercely brutal. His work embodied the spirit of an age where the world was undergoing a rapid and tumultuous series of revolutions and invasions, particularly in his native Spain. Goya's Ghosts is a fictionalized account of events to which Goya--portrayed by Stellan Skarsgård--is witness as one century bleeds into the next, and the great wheel of change turns and turns.
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Although Goya's Ghosts draws its name from the eponymous artist, the plot is largely a fabrication, a period drama set in the violent days at the end of the 18th century and into the 19th. Goya remains at the center of the story, although he is largely an objective observer of the effects of the era over two particular people whom he has painted. One is Brother Lorenzo Casamares (Javier Bardem), a fervent supporter of the waning Spanish Inquisition, and yet paradoxically a man who is an aficionado of Goya's work, contrary to his colleagues assertions that some of Goya's prints are the work of a mind of darkness. Another is the lovely and young Inés Bilbatúa (Natalie Portman), a member of a well-to-do merchant family, who poses for Goya, and whose image has caught the eye of Lorenzo before, her likeness cast used to represent an angel on the ceiling above one of the churches he attends. When Inés is arrested then tortured by the Inquisition under the pretense that she is Jewish, Goya is solicited by Inés' father, Tomás Bilbatúa (José Luis Gómez), to speak to Lorenzo on his behalf to save her. But lust overtakes Lorenzo, and instead he rapes her while she is imprisoned, and is unable to secure her release from prison, even under threat of blackmail by Tomás. His denouncement from the Inquisition and exile leaves Inés seeming stranded forever in jail, until the armies of Napoleon Bonaparte invade Spain and release the prisoners, including an emaciated Inés, who seeks the now deaf Goya in the hopes that he can help her find her daughter, Alicia (also played by Natalie Portman). As one tyranny falls to another, so too does Lorenzo return to his homeland, waiving the banner of the French Revolution, seeking retribution against his former comrades who ostracized him, and shouting new rhetoric with the same fire, looking as committed as he was in his prior crusade.
Goya's Ghosts is directed by Miloš Forman and produced by Saul Zaentz, both of whom also directed and produced the film adaptation of Amadeus, and both films share more in common than just the time period. Both are dramatic, fictionalized stories about some of history's most gifted artists, men who are portrayed as being ahead of their time either by their manner or values, through a combination of irreverence and their perception of the world via their art. Both stories also feature an antagonist who is the antithesis of these values; both Antonio Salieri of Amadeus and Lorenzo Casamares are in their element while operating within the structure of bureaucracy, and use deception and demagoguery to achieve their own selfish goals--they even dress a little alike. Like Mozart, Goya presents himself as being a man who is apolitical, although the content and portrayal of the world and its power players in his art clearly suggests otherwise. Although not cowardly, Goya realizes that he is merely an artist, albeit a vaunted one, so when confronted with conversations or insinuations that he has ulterior motives in his work, he is often quick to be ingratiating or otherwise try to mediate between disputes, such as the confrontation between Lorenzo and Tomás Bilbatúa at dinner. After the display of his portrait of the queen--which is grandiose yet unflattering--Goya is confronted by King Charles IV of Spain (Randy Quaid), who subjects him to a cacophonous display of his lack of talent with the violin. The King is obviously aware he has no ear at all when it comes to music, but Goya claims the music is beautiful, even though we see his meager attempts to deceive the King all over his face. Goya's reaction represents a basic truth about the best artists: that although they may lie with their words, their craft will always speak the truth about their perception of the world, and Goya's times are fraught with darkness. The Inquisition is portrayed in as unflattering of a light as possible, one that is comfortable in subjecting the innocent and kind Inés to the most gruesome of tortures--put to "the question", as euphemized by Lorenzo to conceal the reality of its cruelty--and is then violated by the manifestation of faith in whom Inés relies upon to save her from her unfair incarceration. Lorenzo claims that putting subjects to "the question" is necessary due to the "troubled times" they live in, a frequent justification used by politicians to rationalize their immoral actions. The parallels drawn between the intolerance of Inquisition and Nazi Germany one-hundred and fifty years later resonates not just in the charge against Inés of being a Jew, but even in the banners of the Inquisition hanging in their hall, sharing design similarities with the Nazi swastika. Even as the Inquisition is brought down by the invasion from France, the so-called liberators are nothing more than reavers, ravaging Spain and merely replacing one tyranny for another, claiming to serve mankind when they both only serve themselves. Is it any surprise then that, following his exile, it is Lorenzo who emerges as the figurehead for the trials against the Inquisition, claiming newfound enlightenment through the humanist teachings he once condemned? Lorenzo is no liberator; he is the same self-serving opportunist he was fifteen years prior, willing to conceal his past dealings with Inés for the glory of his image. The ultimate conflict in Goya's Ghosts is again alike Amadeus, where a gifted observer of humanity and society takes up the responsibility to portray the world through his work, on the cusp of a new era of both enlightenment and volatile warfare. It is the artists responsibility to speak this truth in their craft, even if the world is not yet ready to listen.
Recommended for: Fans of a period piece and costume drama more than a strict biopic of one of history's greatest painters. Set during the tumultuous time at the end of the 18th century in Spain, it is more like a story composed by Goya, where he has painted himself into the background.
Goya's Ghosts is directed by Miloš Forman and produced by Saul Zaentz, both of whom also directed and produced the film adaptation of Amadeus, and both films share more in common than just the time period. Both are dramatic, fictionalized stories about some of history's most gifted artists, men who are portrayed as being ahead of their time either by their manner or values, through a combination of irreverence and their perception of the world via their art. Both stories also feature an antagonist who is the antithesis of these values; both Antonio Salieri of Amadeus and Lorenzo Casamares are in their element while operating within the structure of bureaucracy, and use deception and demagoguery to achieve their own selfish goals--they even dress a little alike. Like Mozart, Goya presents himself as being a man who is apolitical, although the content and portrayal of the world and its power players in his art clearly suggests otherwise. Although not cowardly, Goya realizes that he is merely an artist, albeit a vaunted one, so when confronted with conversations or insinuations that he has ulterior motives in his work, he is often quick to be ingratiating or otherwise try to mediate between disputes, such as the confrontation between Lorenzo and Tomás Bilbatúa at dinner. After the display of his portrait of the queen--which is grandiose yet unflattering--Goya is confronted by King Charles IV of Spain (Randy Quaid), who subjects him to a cacophonous display of his lack of talent with the violin. The King is obviously aware he has no ear at all when it comes to music, but Goya claims the music is beautiful, even though we see his meager attempts to deceive the King all over his face. Goya's reaction represents a basic truth about the best artists: that although they may lie with their words, their craft will always speak the truth about their perception of the world, and Goya's times are fraught with darkness. The Inquisition is portrayed in as unflattering of a light as possible, one that is comfortable in subjecting the innocent and kind Inés to the most gruesome of tortures--put to "the question", as euphemized by Lorenzo to conceal the reality of its cruelty--and is then violated by the manifestation of faith in whom Inés relies upon to save her from her unfair incarceration. Lorenzo claims that putting subjects to "the question" is necessary due to the "troubled times" they live in, a frequent justification used by politicians to rationalize their immoral actions. The parallels drawn between the intolerance of Inquisition and Nazi Germany one-hundred and fifty years later resonates not just in the charge against Inés of being a Jew, but even in the banners of the Inquisition hanging in their hall, sharing design similarities with the Nazi swastika. Even as the Inquisition is brought down by the invasion from France, the so-called liberators are nothing more than reavers, ravaging Spain and merely replacing one tyranny for another, claiming to serve mankind when they both only serve themselves. Is it any surprise then that, following his exile, it is Lorenzo who emerges as the figurehead for the trials against the Inquisition, claiming newfound enlightenment through the humanist teachings he once condemned? Lorenzo is no liberator; he is the same self-serving opportunist he was fifteen years prior, willing to conceal his past dealings with Inés for the glory of his image. The ultimate conflict in Goya's Ghosts is again alike Amadeus, where a gifted observer of humanity and society takes up the responsibility to portray the world through his work, on the cusp of a new era of both enlightenment and volatile warfare. It is the artists responsibility to speak this truth in their craft, even if the world is not yet ready to listen.
Recommended for: Fans of a period piece and costume drama more than a strict biopic of one of history's greatest painters. Set during the tumultuous time at the end of the 18th century in Spain, it is more like a story composed by Goya, where he has painted himself into the background.