The Persistence of Memory
Like some overlooked warm-up bout to a heavyweight prize fight, the
Spanish Civil War is known more as an immediate precursor to World War
II than for its own events, causes, and implications. But even if it was
smaller in scope, this "war before the War" was no less brutal and no
less tragic in its consequences.
From 1936-1939, Spain (encouraged by financial and military assistance
from Fascist Germany and the Communist Soviet Union, among other
nations) wrestled with itself over issues of class, politics, and
religion. On one side were the Republicans, comprised of the working
class, intellectuals, and other leftist sympathizers who defended the
fledgling government of the Second Republic of Spain, established just
five years earlier. Against them aligned the Nationalists: the upper
class, the military, and the Catholic Church, all vehemently opposed to
the socialist stance of the Second Republic. The violent, three-year
conflict between the two groups physically and spiritually tore apart
the fabric of Spanish society and prompted the famous epigraph at the
war's end: "Here lies Spain, killed by its other half."
Jose Luis Cuerda's film, Butterfly, mourns the Spain destroyed by
civil conflict by remembering it through the enchanted eyes of a small
boy. Moncho (played by Manuel Lozano) is just old enough to begin
attending public school. The son of the Republican Ramon (Gonzalo
Uriarte) and his devout Nationalist wife, Rosa (Uxia Blanco), Moncho is
blissfully unaware of the tense, political undercurrent that runs
beneath his family and his country. Instead, he is content to while
away his days in the idyllic countryside of Galicia, a small town in
northern Spain. There he divides his time between following his older
brother's exploits in a local big band and chasing butterflies with his
compassionate schoolteacher and mentor Don Gregorio (played by Fernando
Fernan Gomez).
Moncho's happy childhood is represented in a series of back-lit,
pastoral episodes that emphasize the wonder of the world around him and
the appeal of young Lozano's enormous brown eyes. Much like the French
film Ponette, Butterfly seems initially designed to place its child
protagonist in as many adorable situations as possible. To this end,
the audience is shown a series of unconnected yet relentlessly charming
episodes in Moncho's life: Moncho runs away from home, Moncho gets into
a fight at school, Moncho dances with his childhood sweetheart at the
town fair, and so on.
However, Butterfly offers more than a simple Bildungsroman. Based on
a collection of short stories by Manuel Rivas entitled ?Qui Me Quieres Amor?, Butterfly includes several smaller stories within the larger
narrative of Moncho's childhood. The characters who populate the film
include a local drunk, tormented by the bond between his lover and her
dog. While spying on a liaison between the two, Moncho receives his
first introduction to human sexuality. The drunk's jealous temper toward
her dog later gives him an introduction to the dark possibilities of
human vengeance and wrath. Moreover, the alcoholic's lover is revealed
to be Moncho's half-sister, the daughter of his father's previous
marriage. On another occasion, Moncho's brother Andres (Alexis De Los
Santos), while touring with his band, falls in love with the mute child-
bride of a coarse farmer, and must learn his own difficult lesson about
romance.
These narrative digressions, intriguing in their own right, are finally
only brief tangents from the main dynamic at work in the film: the
relationship between Moncho and Don Gregorio. In addition to nature
lessons, Don Gregorio tutors Moncho in literature, theology, and life in
general. Through his relationship with his teacher, Moncho opens his
eyes to the splendor of the natural order and the mysteries of love. The
older man imparts his philosophies to Moncho as a grandfather would, and
on one occasion, even manages to save the child's life during one of
Moncho's asthma attacks.
The beauty of Moncho's surroundings, his youthful exuberance, and his
evolving regard for his mentor weave an idyllic tapestry that is jerked
out from underneath the viewer by film's end. With the start of the
Civil War, Nationalist forces take control of the village and {the
peaceful life that was Moncho's childhood collapses. Neighbor turns
against neighbor, as people try desperately to avoid violent persecution
by the forces in power. Not even Moncho's loving family is immune to the
Nationalist fervor that grips the village, as they join in a public
denunciation of their former friends. The movie's final, tragic moments
reveal how the irrational hatred that inspires war can corrupt even the
purest hearts and destroy the most sacred of relationships.
Like many films about war, Butterfly is a tale of loss. While no one
is actually killed in the film, it is the loss of innocence, for a small
boy and an entire country, not the loss of life, that drives the true
tragedy of the story. For the Spanish, who emerged from Fascist rule
only in 1975 with the death of their dictator Francisco Franco, the
Civil War remains a persistent and painful memory. While the
sentimental artifice of Butterfly is overstated and its drama heavy-
handed, it can be forgiven these indulgences, when the scope of its
tragic subject matter is taken into account. This film is not interested
in the subtleties and nuances of cinema, but rather in communicating the
raw horror of a war whose violent legacy echoes through Spanish history
even today.
