1. “I have a friend who loves women very much, but he claims they’re sacks of excrement.”
2. He kisses her hair through the bars of the window, burying his face.
3. The woman sits in the window of the shop mending a filthy, torn garment with needle and thread. He watches her, fascinated, and hardly notices when Conchita storms off.
Buñuel’s last movie is one of his greatest. The ending is so mysterious, so perfect–hard to put into words the effect it has on me. It expresses longing, but also metes out a kind of justice. And Buñuel doesn’t even need to use words.