Some artists describe their creativity as an unquenchable thirst. They have a constant stream of ideas spilling out of them that they must release, and once one work has been completed, it’s onto another one in an unending compulsion to create. In a veryliteral depiction of this concept, Iván Zulueta's 1979 arthousefilm Arrebato examines the lives of filmmakers who become so immersed in their craft that it becomes as much of an addiction as the drugs they consume, and it’s an intense journey riddled with escapism, casual sex, nostalgic whimsy, and pure hedonism.
Arrebato commences with a horror filmmaker named José Sirgado (Eusebio Poncela) getting into a spat with his editor, frustrated at how abruptly the final scene of his latest film ends. Upon his return home, José discovers a mysterious package waiting for him, which contains a key, a Super-8 film, and an audiotape featuring the voice of his eccentric acquaintance Pedro (Will More), who is also a filmmaker and yearns to experience what he describes as “arrebato” (rapture) when he creates his short films, which throws him into a heightened state of consciousness. As Pedro’s strange message to José progresses, the film fluidly alternates betweens flashbacks of their decadent times together and José’s present-day situation, trying to make sense of Pedro’s recount, which feels equally attracting and foreboding.
Zulueta has a knack for telling the audience just enough to stay engaged while inviting a great deal of self-interpretation inArrebato. There is no outwardly linear plot but rather overarching themes that dominate the majority of the film, creating a vastly sensory experience. The motif of drug use is perhaps the most overt one: both Pedro and José use heroin and cocaine frequently, and it quickly becomes synonymous with the “rapture” they feel through filmmaking. Zulueta mimics this concept with his hallucinatory style of storytelling and camerawork: space and time become so fluid that it’s easy to lose track of those constructs while watching it.
Most interestingly, the desire to regain the childlike wonderment of youth is explored here, which might seem to some like a sharp contrast to the very “adult” concept of drug use, but Arrebato makes them seamlessly intertwined: they are both vehicles to help the characters reach a higher state of enlightenment akin to what they experience through their filmmaking. Pedro is a twenty-something-year-old who is described as behaving like a twelve-year-old, and Will More does a brilliant job depicting this complex character who encourages his friends to embrace beloved toys of their youth when they’re high to achieve peak “rapture.” This dichotomy between hard drug use and children’s toys is jarring and brilliant, and the more they transform Pedro, the more magnetic they become.
Any exploration of Arrebato would be incomplete without acknowledging its more ethereal qualities. Often described as a psychological horror film, both Pedro and the film stock have an understated vampiric quality to them. Pedro, portrayed as eternally youthful, often speaks of himself with a sense of “otherness,” while his films seem to demand people’s life force in order to exist. The camera gradually begins to present itself as some sort of self-aware monster that should be feared, demanding offerings in an increasingly predatory nature. This speaks of the symbiotic nature of filmmaking and other art forms, too: while the creator must create, it is never without sacrifice. The horror in this self-reflexive film is more abstract and cerebral than a traditional horror film, but it certainly is potent.
The 4K restoration of Arrebato is available on video-on-demand December 21st, and it is not to be missed. Catch it on iTunes, Amazon, GooglePlay, or Vimeo. The unsettling, experimental sound design and striking imagery are better than ever and invigorate this cult masterpiece. For a physical copy with killer cover art by Sister Hyde Design, this Altered Innocence release will be available on DVD and Blu-ray on January 25th, 2022.
Pedro Almodóvar considers Arrebato his favorite horror film, and it’s easy to see why. Similar to many of Almodóvar’s films, this visceral feature has a way of getting under the skin and never letting go. It will keep introspective audiences thinking for days about the nature of art and the hold it has upon the artist. Often described as “a vampire film without vampires,” Arrebato will suck you into its void in the most hypnotic and seedy way possible.
—Andrea Riley