Barcelona Metropolis

A photograph of Luis García-Berlanga at the now-closed Bodega Bohemia greets us as we enter the exhibition Interior Berlanga. Cinema, vida i humor [Interior Berlanga: Film, Life and Humour], currently on display at CaixaForum Barcelona until 20 April 2025. This exhibition offers a sequence shot journey that, according to its curators Sol Carnicero and Bernardo Sánchez Salas, provides a fresh, more personal and reflective perspective on the life and work of Luis García-Berlanga, the director of Bienvenido, Mr. Marshall (1953), a key figure in Spanish cinema. This is achieved through hundreds of pieces drawn from his extensive personal archive.

“My father had Diogenes’ Syndrome”, explains José Luis García-Berlanga, referring to his father Luis García-Berlanga’s penchant for collecting and organising all sorts of objects and documents from a very young age. This habit meant that he and his siblings inherited an archive containing over 27,000 items. Overwhelmed by the sheer volume of material, José Luis wrote to the suggestion box at the “la Caixa” Foundation five years ago asking for help. This marked the beginning of a painstaking process to catalogue and digitally preserve the legacy of one of the most important filmmakers in Spanish cinema. The exhibition Interior Berlanga: Film, Life and Humour concludes this process with a carefully curated selection of 300 pieces. These items shed light on lesser-known aspects of his life and work, revealing a more intimate and reflective side of Berlanga, distinct from the “anarchic prankster” persona he liked to project in public.

The first section of the exhibition, titled “Cabinet: Refuge, Home and Family”, showcases Luis García-Berlanga’s most personal items. For instance, there is a list where he noted the films he watched, highlighting his deep appreciation for pre-World War II French and German cinema, especially directors like René Clair, with whom he exchanged letters. A specially curated montage for the exhibition, La barraca del cine [The Cinema Booth], presents scenes from some of these films, ranging from Jean Vigo’s Zero for Conduct (1933) to more obscure titles that were particularly revelatory for him, such as G. W. Pabst’s Don Quixote (1933).

We can also admire some of the optical toys he cherished, including a patheorama and a shadow cinema with a Chinese silhouette of Charlie Chaplin. Berlanga even sent Chaplin a script suggesting that he star in it. As the reply letter shows, Chaplin declined the offer, explaining that he only acted in films he wrote himself. Nevertheless, Berlanga continued to stay in touch with other members of the Chaplin family, as illustrated by a collection of Christmas cards, including one drawn by Oona Castilla Chaplin, daughter of Geraldine and granddaughter of Charles.

Spanish Civil War and Berlanga’s work

The “National Episodes” room explores the director’s connection to Spanish history and how it became a central theme in his films. Here, we can read a manuscript dated 19 April 1939, in which Berlanga, 18 years old, reflects on the impact of the Civil War on his well-to-do family. According to curator Sol Carnicero, the weight of the conflict significantly influenced Berlanga’s work, turning part of his filmography into a cautionary tale to prevent a repeat of such events – a concern he first attempted to address with La vaquilla [The Heifer] (1985) as early as 1948.

Censorship, however, consistently hindered his efforts. This also included his attempts to adapt other episodes of Spanish history into films, such as the Palomares bomb incident. Although this remains one of ten scripts he never managed to film, glimpses of it can be seen in the exhibition. More widely known is the filmmaker’s involvement with the Blue Division, a two-year experience for which he kept various mementos on display, including tobacco, matchboxes and letters to his family. The exhibition also features a notification from El Pardo informing him that Franco was about to watch Esa pareja feliz [That Happy Couple] (1953), his first feature film, co-directed with Juan Antonio Bardem. After the release of El verdugo [The Executioner] (1963), the dictator even labelled the filmmaker a “bad Spaniard”.

Berlanga considered himself “ill-prepared for the world of cinema”. However, the rooms tracing his professional journey reveal his training in this field, at what was then known as the Institute of Cinematographic Research and Experiences, later the Official School of Cinematography. They also show his intermittent involvement and links with events and institutions, as he disliked being tied to any single entity or party. This included his participation in the Conversations of Salamanca and his role as president of the Spanish Film Archive. In this capacity, he received a letter in 1981, also on display, from Josep Tarradellas, the former president of the Generalitat Government of Catalonia, offering the collection of films about the Spanish Civil War that Tarradellas had preserved during his exile in France.