Name: A Forbidden Orange
Genre: Documentary, History
Released: 2021-10-23T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Malcolm McDowell, Carmelo Romero, Vicente Molina Foix, Gustavo Martín Garzo, María Calleja

The screen fades to black, and Malcolm McDowell’s voice, that unmistakable growl from A Clockwork Orange, cuts through the silence: “It was a strange time, Spain in the 1970s.” So begins A Forbidden Orange (2021), Pedro González Bermúdez’s documentary about the clandestine screening of Stanley Kubrick‘s controversial masterpiece in Francoist Spain. The film is less a traditional documentary and more an archival detective story, piecing together how a film banned by a repressive regime found its way to Spanish audiences. But beyond the intrigue lies a deeper exploration of censorship, cultural resistance, and the power of cinema—a trifecta that makes this documentary compelling for those who care about film history.

Bermúdez frames the narrative around the 20th Valladolid Film Festival (Seminci), where A Clockwork Orange premiered in Spain on April 24, 1975—without censorship. The documentary leans heavily on interviews with key figures like Vicente Molina Foix and Carmelo Romero, who were present at that screening, as well as archival footage and stills from the era. McDowell’s narration ties it all together, lending an air of authority and gravitas. The film’s strength lies in its meticulous research; Bermúdez digs deep into the political climate of Spain under Franco, explaining why a film about ultraviolence and free will was deemed too dangerous for Spanish audiences.

One of the most compelling sections explores the semantic games played by Seminci organizers to circumvent censorship. They rebranded A Clockwork Orange as an “artistic event” rather than a commercial release, exploiting loopholes in Franco’s cultural policies. Bermúdez uses close-ups of festival pamphlets and letters between officials, letting the documents speak for themselves—a clever choice that avoids heavy-handed exposition. This section is where the documentary shines, revealing how art can defy oppressive systems through ingenuity rather than confrontation.

The most engaging moments come from the interviews with Molina Foix and Romero. Molina Foix, a writer and critic, provides insightful commentary on the cultural landscape of Spain at the time, while Romero, a filmmaker, offers firsthand accounts of the screening’s impact. Their testimonies are complemented by appearances from other cultural figures like Gustavo Martín Garzo and María Calleja, who add depth to the discussion. These interviews are where the film feels most alive, grounding its historical analysis in personal experiences.

However, A Forbidden Orange often feels like an academic lecture, bogged down by dense historical context. While fascinating, the deep dives into Francoist propaganda and Spanish cinema regulations risk losing casual viewers. The documentary also struggles to balance its dual focus: the political backdrop of 1970s Spain and the cultural impact of A Clockwork Orange. At times, it feels like two separate films vying for attention. This imbalance is particularly evident in the film’s pacing, which can feel uneven as it shifts between historical analysis and personal anecdotes.

Bermúdez’s direction is competent but unremarkable. He relies heavily on talking heads and archival footage, with little experimentation in visual storytelling. The documentary could have benefited from more creative editing or dynamic cinematography to keep viewers engaged. That said, the film’s climax—the actual screening in Valladolid—is handled with cinematic flair, cutting between interviews, archival footage, and dramatic reenactments of festival attendees sneaking into theaters. It’s a gripping moment that underscores the power of art to defy oppression.

Thematically, A Forbidden Orange explores the tension between censorship and artistic expression. It raises important questions about the role of cinema in challenging oppressive regimes and the lengths people go to preserve cultural freedom. However, these themes are sometimes overshadowed by the film’s academic approach. The documentary would have benefited from a stronger narrative arc or a more personal lens through which to explore these ideas. As it stands, it feels more like a scholarly article than a cinematic experience.

In terms of genre fit, A Forbidden Orange is a niche documentary that will primarily appeal to Kubrick enthusiasts and cinephiles interested in Spanish cinema history. Casual viewers may find it too specialized or dry. The film’s originality lies in its focus on a specific historical event, but it doesn’t break new ground in terms of documentary filmmaking.

The performances, while not the traditional focus of a documentary, are noteworthy for their authenticity and depth. McDowell’s narration is a standout element, providing a familiar voice that ties the narrative together. The interviewees, particularly Molina Foix and Romero, deliver compelling testimonies that add emotional weight to the historical analysis.

If A Forbidden Orange had streamlined its narrative and tightened its focus on the screening itself rather than the broader historical context, it might have been more engaging for general audiences.

Tags: Malcolm McDowell, A Forbidden Orange, Carmelo Romero, Pedro González Bermúdez, Vicente Molina Foix