Arrebato

Arrebato (Rapture) is a Spanish arthouse horror movie by Iván Zulueta from 1979.

From the publisher: Horror movie director José (Eusebio Poncela) is adrift in a sea of doubt and drugs. As his belated second feature nears completion, his reclusive bubble is popped by two events: a sudden reappearance from an ex-girlfriend and a package from past acquaintance Pedro (Will More): a reel of Super-8 film, an audiotape, and a door key. From there, the boundaries of time, space, and sexuality are erased as José is once more sucked into Pedro’s vampiric orbit. Together, they attempt the ultimate hallucinogenic catharsis through a moebius strip of filming and being filmed.

Well, this sure was bizarre. Arrebato is trippy, immersive, artsy, a bit clever, restless. It is a bit inaccessible at times but if you open yourself up to its atmosphere and mood, with its references to the flickering of film, its use of drugs and hallucinations and various stylistic devices, it is quite a trip indeed. Inconvenient at times, but honestly really good. What I found inconvenient? For example the annoying hissy voiceover and the actor it is supposed to be coming from is miscast. But at the same time all this is deliberate.

But then again what was the movie really about? I have no idea to be honest. Is it about a man telling the story of his own rapture through messages on a tape recorder and 16mm footage? Or is it a weird love story through the love for motion pictures? I admit I did not quite understand it. But it does get me thinking. There is clearly also something sexual, if not transsexual, about this film that may have to do with vampiric subtexts, lowered or age-unusual voice, the protagonists aversion to intercourse with his girlfriend, and his obsession with Pedro.

Space and time are no issue for Zulueta, who landed quite a cult film with Arrebato (Almodovar is credited as calling it “an absolute modern classic”). The halluzogenic picture (in which drug use itself is also a major element) leads the viewer into a rabbit hole, one where we see the protagonist struggle with almost vampiric developments within himself and the object of his obsession, the messages and behaviors of the schizophrenic seeming filmmaker Pedro, who left him reels of film and voice messages on tape. To either warn him of something or convey a message. The film ends with José more or less morphing into Pedro – all bets are off as to the interpretation of that.

The movie is awash with clever imagery and stylistic devices that while being playful are never just self indulgent film school game, but serious employment of filmcraft that make this movie a highly delightful cinematic experience. It may be a low budget indie, but Arrebato is top notch filmmaking that – if you are cool with some nudity, drugs, hints of queer sujet, audio visual gadgetry and tim jumps – should indeed dazzle. I found it strenuous to watch, but very interesting.

The film gets its UK release on BluRay (a year after a US release) on home video by Altered Innocence (and Radiance Films I suppose). And this is based on a new 4K restoration that really looks the part. This transfer looks greally great: super sharp, details not lost, rich textures, brilliant colors. A bit too bright overall (but the film was a bit too strongly lit, generally) but wow, what a restoration. Now, the screenshots used for this article are scaled down and all that but those with a good eye for film restoration will see that oh yes, this is gonna be good. The audio sounds alright, too, with the original Spanish track here being supplemented by fairly good English subtitles that are optional.

The disc is region free, and it is a limited edition slipcase with an o-card featuring the original poster artwork. After its limited 1000 copy run there may be a regular edition to follow. But why wait. There are a few extras on this disc. One is an audio commentary with Mike White of The Projection Booth. It’s a fairly interesting and analytical commentary that does the movie justice. Then there is a documentary on Ivan Z by Andres Duque (51mins). This is a very personal look into the life and work of the director, but in the form of a visit to the man’s home and less a journalistic treatment. Lastly, the theatrical trailer and some other trailers.

Buy now: From Amazon.co.uk | US Edition (2022, Amazon.com)