I approached this film because of my recent interest in surrealist cinema, and it especially drew my attention because Bunuel was one of the founders of the genre. However, the film was not the abstract meditation on religion that I expected--instead, it is more like a 101 minute essay on the nature of religion and herecy, and yet somehow manages to remain entertaining.
The majority of the film consists of either discussion or encounters through time displaying the various events in Christian herecy's history. Not knowing much about the history of herecy (like most other people, which was acknowledged by Bunuel and his co-writer Jean-Claude Carriere), the film was more like a history lesson for me at many of these parts, somewhat distracting from the more important details and satire of film. Even so, the more comprehensible events are so well-developed and staged that one can remain hooked on the film even through the seemingly meaningless religious jabberings; I do not say that as an insult to the film, more as an observation of my own religious incompetence. There are, however, several key points of Bunuel's vision that I could pick out.
One that seemed quite prominent was his insistence that religious people's ideas constantly change with the winds, and no matter how set they are on them one minute, a mere change in tone can shift them in a complete opposite direction. He comments on the hippocracy and contradictions of the Catholic religion in several scenes: A priest and a police-man debate the nature of the Holy Eucharist, and whether Christ is contained inside of the Eucharist or if he just is the Eucharist, no questions asked. The priest firmly debates the latter. Two wanderers come and add to the discussion ("What happens to Christ after you swallow him?") and are shooed away. Suddenly the priest changes his mind, having a revelation about the nature of the Eucharist (in contradiction to the official Catholic belief)--and a van comes to take him away to a mental asylum. This scene is pure tongue-in-cheek Bunuel, poking fun at several aspects of the Catholic church in one perfectly staged scene.
Another scene that displays Bunuels firm belief in religious contradictions is a hilarious duel between two nobles who contradict each other's views on fanaticism. One minute they're having a slap-stick duel, discussing and making argumentative points at intervals--and then when the two wanderers make a point about the topic and the camera strays from the duel, the two nobles are seen shaking hands, brushing off each other's coats, and walking away laughing. The wanderers are somewhat confused--but as they encounter more and more on their pilgrimage through space and time ("The Milky Way") to St. James' final resting place (The Milky Way is also known as "St. James' Way") to scam the other travelers, they learn to observe the events and continue rather than dwell on them in the least. Even in the film's final chapter, where a miracle happens and they do not get arrested, they just shrug at each other and continue on--they are merely the narrators, not making judgements either way, and only provoking the discussion of the film as a whole.
There are literally thousands of occurences in this film that can be nitpicked into their smallest form to try and conceive what Bunuel's purpose was in making the film (some have tried to get the film banned, but his closest friends asked him how much the Vatican paid him to make the film), but I have come to a conclusion and attempted to sum it up in a single statement: Religion is a mysterious and strange thing, and people have been trying to put it into perspective since the beginning of time. Some turn to fanaticism and depraved ways of worship, and others will discuss it endlessly and never come to a conclusion. Most people will accept it and carry on with their lives, disregarding the miracles that have the potential to happen every day. No one can really explain it, and what Bunuel was trying to do was give a simple explanation through episodic encounters about the history of Christian deviance, herecy.
This is where the surrealist aspect comes in. There are the surreal continuity errors, where one person appears in another place and then another based on the shot, most prominently in an encounter with a personified death (dressed in what looks like 70s and 80s glam-rock attire). More often than not, when the films dives into more bizarre or abstract occurences, it is more due to Bunuel's style of direction than the actual events, with exception of a select few brilliant images (he seems to have a penchant for great imagery--see Un Chien Andalou). These include a nun being nailed to a cross, a priest directly addressing the camera about the Virgin Mary, and the Lord walking down an abandoned country road with a midget next to him releasing doves. They are hilariously strange.
I suppose it's a coincidence that I watched this film just a couple of nights after I rewatched the absolutely hysterical Life of Brian, which also tries to provide rhyme or reason to the Christian faith through broad British humor. Both films succeed immensely on their respective levels, though I have to say I enjoyed Life of Brian a little bit more.
As for me, I cannot provide any insights on either topic at the moment; it seems as though Bunuels words are all the more relevent after watching these films: "Thank God I'm an atheist."