Journal of Film Preservation - FIAF

the case of Spanish Cinema this characteristic variation of the
colonial cinema also appears to have reflected a preference for the
North African scenarios.
Far from being an occasional presence or a passing trend, the
Spanish colonies in Africa were the setting for more than fifty fiction
films – which, it must be said, take us through the greatest variety of
genre and sub-genre imaginable – to which we must of course add
the approximately 150 short films of a documentary nature (the lack
of a rigorous census of Spain’s cinematographic production makes it
impossible for the moment to establish such figures definitively and
with absolute certainty). For our purposes here, however, the films to
be considered are concentrated basically in the period from the Civil
War up to the mid-fifties, on the eve of the independence of
Morocco. Subsequent to that date, the Spanish cinema only had
recourse to Africa simply as a setting for adventure or espionage
films (often co-productions of questionable lineage), at least up to
the eighties, when a renewed interest was awakened but taking a
very different tack. It is nevertheless true that any analysis of the
Spanish cinema focused on Africa worth its salt must necessarily go
back to the period of the Moroccan wars and explore from its very
origin the evident militaristic dimension present at all times. In this
way, the well-documented interest of the Spanish army in using the
cinematograph for propagandistic purposes would soon find itself
reinforced by the first fiction films dealing with the conflict. Apart
from some occasional isolated precedent, Alma rifeña (José Buchs,
1922) can be considered to be the foundational milestone of this
subgenre, the continuity of which would later be guaranteed during
the silent film era by half a dozen titles, among which Aguilas de
acero o Los Misterios de Tánger (Florián Rey, 1927) and La Condesa
María (Benito Perojo, 1927) stand out. The end of the war in
Morocco determined an apparent loss of interest in African issues
and thus, the references to the theme would be few and far between
throughout the era of the Republic. However, and even before the
Civil War ended, the Franco regime once again had recourse to
African themes in order to undertake an overwhelming exaltation of
the military spirit in parallel to a no less intense self-affirmation of
the imperial destiny of the nation, in which the North African lands
would remain forever linked to Spain by brotherly bonds, thus
initiating what without a doubt constitutes the period of splendour
of Spanish colonial cinema.
In effect, under the Franco regime, the colonial cinema devoted to
African themes, not as monolithic as it has often been portrayed,
produced its best and most varied fruits. While it is true that it lacks
a major work to structure the subgenre around it, Romancero
marroquí (Carlos Velo and Enrique Domínguez Rodiño, 1939)
subsists not only as its greatest achievement, but also as one of the
most unusual experiences of the colonial cinema in any country. The
film was created on the initiative of the High Commissioner of Spain
31 Journal of Film Preservation / 63 / 2001
El cine colonial español no ha recibido hasta
la fecha la atención que sin duda merece,
persistiendo así un extraño vacío
historiográfico en los estudios sobre el tema
a escala internacional. Y, sin embargo, la
producción cinematográfica española cuenta
con un número abultado de films que cabría
fácilmente adscribir a cualquiera de los
variados subgéneros de inspiración colonial,
potenciando incluso algunas variantes
autóctonas como es el caso del cine de
misioneros. De todas formas, y acaso de
manera previsible, también en España el
cine colonial serviría básicamente de
coartada a la exaltación militarista y, en
menor medida, al énfasis en la misión
civilizadora, al menos hasta que la
independencia de Marruecos - el gran
reducto del pequeño y extemporáneo
imperio español en el siglo XX - truncara de
forma un tanto abrupta el interés de los
cineastas por tales temas y los escenarios
exóticos de antaño se convirtieran en meros
decorados para películas de acción de bajo
presupuesto. Pero antes de que tal cosa
sucediera, y particularmente bajo la presión
ideológica ejercida por el africanismo
franquista, la producción española ofrecerá
títulos tan atípicos como Romancero
marroquí, La canción de Aixa o La
llamada de Africa, por no hablar de una
nutrida obra documental, que aguarda una
urgente recuperación como un bien relevante
capítulo de la historia del cine colonial
europeo.