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The Architecture of Avarice in Ion de Sosa’s Sueñan los androides or How I Learned to Stop Worrying About the Economic Crisis and Love the Sheep

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Part of the book series: Hispanic Urban Studies ((HUS))

Abstract

This chapter investigates how spatial constructions in Ion de Sosa’s experimental dystopian film Sueñan los androides (Androids Dream) (2014) draw attention to the role of avarice as a motivating force behind the antagonist’s behavior in the film and as a contributing factor to the 2008 financial crisis in real life. In addition, intertextual references to Philip K. Dick’s 1968 novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (on which the film is loosely based) underscore these parallels. The landscapes in the film suggest that the elite sacrifice the middle class (including, most notably, Spanish youth) in pursuit of symbolic displays of wealth. The film portrays the labor done by the Spanish precariat as menial and dehumanizing, while drawing attention to the obstacles they face in seeking socioeconomic mobility.

An abridged version of this chapter was presented under a similar title at the 2016 Society for Utopian Studies conference.

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Notes

  1. 1.

    Mies van der Rohe, “Ludwig.”

  2. 2.

    Mansharamani, “Skyscrapers”; Bourdieu, “Social Space,” 17.

  3. 3.

    Benidorm, one of Spain’s top tourist destinations, also serves as the backdrop for a popular British television series titled Benidorm. The town is known for attracting large numbers of older, foreign tourists. While the local population was registered at 72,154 in 2015 (of which 24,864 were foreign residents), the city registered approximately 11 million overnight stays that same year, about half of which consisted of foreign tourists. See “Benidorm en cifras.”

  4. 4.

    Skyscraper Page, s.v. “Edificio Neguri Gane,” accessed February 15, 2018, http://skyscraperpage.com/cities/?buildingID=337; Skyscraper Page, s.v. “Torre Lúgano,” accessed February 15, 2018, http://skyscraperpage.com/cities/?buildingID=23839; Skyscraper Page, s.v. “Intempo,” accessed February 15, 2018, http://skyscraperpage.com/cities/?buildingID=45334. The name of the building InTempo also appears as Intempo or In Tempo in various sources.

  5. 5.

    Poggioli, “Spain’s Boom to Bust.”

  6. 6.

    López Letón, “La burbuja.”

  7. 7.

    Buck, “Spain: Boom to Bust.”

  8. 8.

    Ibid.

  9. 9.

    Ibid. In fact, many cases of corruption were filed during the crisis, some of which were prosecuted, and there is now a stronger push toward transparency and oversight. See “La corrupción se estanca.” Although it is a work of fiction, Rafael Chirbes’ critically acclaimed novel Crematorio [Crematorium] (2007) captures the way in which some Spaniards were seduced into corruption by access to easy money, which contributed to the conditions that laid the foundation for the economic crisis.

  10. 10.

    “Evolución histórica.”

  11. 11.

    Madridejos, “Barcelona necesita reducir.”

  12. 12.

    Fernández, “Turismofobia: La revuelta.”

  13. 13.

    Blanchar, “Turismofobia.” Pablo Rodríguez Burón’s 2017 novel titled Turistia imagines what would happen if all of Spain belonged to a corporation and all of its citizens dedicated themselves exclusively to the tourist industry. Pablo Tusset’s satirical novel Sakamura y los turistas sin karma [Sakamura and the tourists without karma] (2017) explores similar themes, but is set in Barcelona.

  14. 14.

    “España encadena.”

  15. 15.

    De Sosa, interview by Cine a la Carbonara. It should be noted that even though Marina D’Or was de Sosa’s first choice for a filming location, he was pleased with how effective Benidorm turned out to be as a backdrop for his film.

  16. 16.

    Neate, “Scandal of Europe’s.”

  17. 17.

    “El paro subió”; Sevillano and González, “Evolución histórica”; Sanmartín, “El número de suicidios.” Although one cannot necessarily attribute these suicides directly to the impact of the market crash, it probably played an important factor in many of these deaths, even if indirectly.

  18. 18.

    Prats, “A cuántos españoles.”

  19. 19.

    Campos, “Fenómeno migratorio”; Cuesta, “La fuga de cerebros.” One problem with using the number of Spaniards registered as working abroad to determine the flow of emigration is that there may be a substantial number of Spaniards who are choosing not to officially register as residents when they go to work abroad.

  20. 20.

    Campos, “Fenómeno migratorio.”

  21. 21.

    De Sosa, interview by Cine a la Carbonara.

  22. 22.

    Álvarez-Blanco and Gómez López-Quiñones, introduction to La imaginación hipotecada, 9. With the publication of The Precariat: The New Dangerous Social Class, Guy Standing has helped standardize the use of the neologism “precariat,” which is a cross between “precarious” and “proletariat.” Standing, The Precariat, 7. Álvarez-Blanco and Gómez López-Quiñones cite Giorgio Agamben, Judith Butler, Michael Hardt, and Simon Critchley as other theorists who have expanded our understanding of the concept in various academic contexts. See Álvarez-Blanco and Gómez López-Quiñones, introduction to La imaginación hipotecada, 9.

  23. 23.

    Olivan, “De los JASP a los NiNi.”

  24. 24.

    Gallego-Díaz, “La Generación del Milenio”; Fernández S., “Millennials: La generación”; Prensky, “Digital Natives.” People well into their thirties or forties may still be considered relatively young in Spain, even if not classified that way in census reports. See Douglass, “We’re Fine at Home,” 187. For that reason, the youth who endured the recession of the mid-1990s may sometimes be grouped together with those in similar circumstances right now. In other words, it is common practice to associate Gen Xers with millennials since they are both experiencing financial hardship. The nickname Generación Hipotecada (Mortgaged generation) is primarily applicable to Spaniards in their thirties and forties who are tied to mortgages and suffering under the crushing weight of debt. See Gil Calvo, “Una generación hipotecada.” Examining the generational trends in the literary world, Christine Henseler explores the differences between earlier Generation X writers who were prolific in the mid-1990s like José Ángel Mañas, Ray Loriga, Benjamín Prado, Lucía Extebarría, and Gabriela Bustelo, and later Generation X authors, like Agustín Fernández Mallo and Eloy Fernández Porta, who are sometimes associated with different labels like Generación Nocilla, Generación After-pop, or Generación Mutantes. See Henseler, Spanish Fiction.

  25. 25.

    Olivan, “De los JASP a los NiNi”; Pérez-Lanzac, “Generación ‘nimileurista.’” Approximately 24% of Spaniards aged 15–29 were considered “ninis” (those who neither work, nor study) in 2010, according to Ana Teruel and J. A. Aunión, who cite as their source the Panorama de la Educación 2012 from the Organización para la Cooperación y el Desarrollo Económico (OCDE). Teruel and Aunión, “España es el país.”

  26. 26.

    Olivan, “De los JASP a los NiNi.”

  27. 27.

    For this rough estimate, I have utilized my own informal database of over 250 Spanish dystopias, which is discussed in detail in the introduction to this book.

  28. 28.

    Prádanos, “Decrecimiento o barbarie,” 77.

  29. 29.

    To a lesser degree, Prádanos also explores this same topic in Pablo Tusset’s Oxford 7, which critiques various forms of authoritarian control within a hyper-capitalist, intergalactic society.

  30. 30.

    For differing critical views of the novel, see “Doble hélice: Cenital” by Inés Arias de Reyna and Laura Luna and “El apocalipsis como simulacro postraumático en Cenital de Emilio Bueso” by Gabriel Saldías Rossel.

  31. 31.

    Un futuro sin más (A future without anything more) by Antonio Turiel and the anthology of stories Escasez de petróleo (Oil scarcity) edited by Juan José Aroz are among the many works that also approach the topic of peak oil (i.e., when nonrenewable oil supplies reach their peak and then drastically decline, thus igniting an energy crisis) from a dystopian perspective. There are also dystopian currents in the postapocalyptic zombie novels by Manel Loureiro, as well as similarly themed short stories, such as “Camp Century” by Marc Pastor in the anthology Mañana todavía edited by Ricard Ruiz Garzón. Instead of a zombie apocalypse, the novel Los días grises (The gray days) by Sergio Alonso Mínguez is based on the premise of a lethal pathogen transmitted by contact with money, while the novel Últimos días en el puesto del este (Last days at the Eastern post) by Cristina Fallarás examines a postapocalyptic, ultrareligious society and the short story “Limpieza de sangre” (Blood purity) by Juan Miguel Aguilera explores the double threat of Ebola and ISIS. Though many of these texts indirectly touch upon the financial crisis, most are primarily survival narratives and may not necessarily be considered dystopias per se.

  32. 32.

    Oliver, “ABC desvela”; Bolinches, “Los verdaderos motivos.” Eurovegas and Alcorcón will be discussed in further detail in the next chapter.

  33. 33.

    De Sosa, interview by FilmArte; Slarek, “The Way.”

  34. 34.

    “Scenes from America.”

  35. 35.

    Arribas, “‘Sueñan los androides’”; De Sosa, interview by Cine a la Carbonara; Liébana, “Haciendo visible los confines.”

  36. 36.

    Sala, “Crónica Sevilla 2014.”

  37. 37.

    Liébana, “Haciendo visible los confines.” Liébana analyzes the connection between the two films effectively: “Si el film de Luis López Carrasco partía de un tiempo pasado, aquella noche de 1982, cuando el PSOE ganó las elecciones, para hacer balance y crítica acerca del devenir de España (tratándose nuestro presente de aquel futuro que aún estaba por llegar), el largometraje de Ion de Sosa parte del futuro (año 2052) para terminar hablando, precisamente del pasado” (If Luis López Carrasco’s film is based on a time from the past, that night in 1982, when PSOE won the elections, in order to take stock of and criticize the future of Spain [dealing with our present of that future that was yet to come], the feature-length film of de Sosa is based on the future [the year 2052] in order to finish talking, precisely, about the past). An interesting area for further investigation would be an examination of the dialogue between the two films and the utopian and dystopian tensions in them.

  38. 38.

    Ibid.

  39. 39.

    “Camira Statement.” CAMIRA “is composed of critics, academics and curators in the domain of cinema and other moving image arts. CAMIRA is an association emerging at a moment when cinema and other moving image practices are undergoing profound structural changes in the domains of production, dissemination and reception. The association seeks to create adequate responses, critiques and relations alongside these new and mutating forms, technologies and practices.”

  40. 40.

    De Sosa, interview by Natxo Velez. José Luis Guerín deliberately chose the English title Work in Progress instead of Under Construction to de-emphasize the materiality of the process of construction. See Guerín, “Work in Progress.”

  41. 41.

    De Sosa, interview by FilmArte.

  42. 42.

    Encyclopaedia Britannica, s.v. “R.U.R.,” accessed February 15, 2018, https://www.britannica.com/topic/RUR.

  43. 43.

    De Sosa, interview by Cine a la Carbonara.

  44. 44.

    Miguel Llansó’s extremely odd, yet visually stunning film Crumbs (2015) is set against a postapocalyptic backdrop in the backwaters of Ethiopia. It is about a man who lives in an abandoned bowling alley with his partner and embarks on a long journey to reach a spaceship that has been hovering over Earth for years and has recently become active. An altar to Michael Jordan and old Michael Jackson records used as a form of currency are just a few of the many pop-cultural references that seem comically out of place, and yet surprisingly appropriate, in this setting. They emphasize not only the impact of globalization and cultural appropriation, but also the tendency toward recycling and repurposing in postapocalyptic societies.

  45. 45.

    Sala, “Crónica Sevilla 2014.” In his article “Futuro en pretérito: Apropiaciones visuales del pasado en la ciencia ficción distópica” Rafael Jackson-Martín presents a fascinating survey of dystopian films from the 1970s to the present in which imagery of and references to the past are incorporated into the landscapes. The aim of his investigation is to explore the function of these remnants of the past in the dystopias.

  46. 46.

    Through email correspondence, de Sosa affirmed (on July 2, 2017) that the sound was included in postproduction and that he believes that it was a nuclear alarm. He commented that “la intención era sugerir que aquella ciudad aparentemente tan apacible entraña riesgos o bien de toque de queda, o bien de contaminación o algún otro riesgo que disuada a los ciudadanos de salir a las calles” (the intention was to suggest that the apparently calm city harbors threats, whether it be of a curfew or of contamination or some other threat that dissuades the citizens from going out into the streets).

  47. 47.

    As the shots at the very beginning of the film do not include a lot of the surrounding area in them, they could be described as tightly composed establishing shots of high-rise buildings.

  48. 48.

    Bourdieu, “Social Space,” 17.

  49. 49.

    Tufft, “Package Holiday Resort Benidorm”; Burgen, “In Tempo: Towering Testament.”

  50. 50.

    Given the explosion of the Spanish housing market in the early 2000s and the fact that there is no such thing as unlimited growth (especially when that growth is dependent on “securitization,” “large increases in bank credit to the private sector,” “looser lending practices” and “large increases in housing prices”), it was inevitable that the bubble would burst. Carbó-Valverde, Marqués-Ibáñez, and Rodríguez Fernández, “Securiziation, Bank Lending,” 6–7. Overreliance on flimsy mortgage-backed securities was just one of the many factors that contributed to the instability of the Spanish economy.

  51. 51.

    Dawber, “Benidorm’s Towering Monument.”

  52. 52.

    Ibid.

  53. 53.

    Burgen, “In Tempo: Towering Testament.”

  54. 54.

    Esquitino, “InTempo, una incompetencia.”

  55. 55.

    Ibid.

  56. 56.

    Patalong, “A Spanish Skyscraper’s”; Mattson, “Spain’s 47-story InTempo.”

  57. 57.

    López, “In Tempo, tocar el cielo”; López, “Se vende”; Willett, “Debunked: That rumor”; Yus, “El edificio residencial.” Journalist Raquel López documented her experience of traveling in an elevator to the top of InTempo. While López suggests that the story claiming that there was no elevator to the top was a misunderstanding, several news sources like Business Insider have called the story an outright lie. See López, “Se vende” and Willett, “Debunked.”

  58. 58.

    Pagés, “Dos grupos de inversión.”

  59. 59.

    J. G. Ballard’s classic novel High-Rise (1975), which was made into a film with the same name in 2016, is one of the most well-known dystopias in which the metaphorical value of an architectural structure dominates the narrative. Though to a much stronger degree, High-Rise is similar to de Sosa’s film in that skyscrapers embody tensions between socioeconomic classes. It portrays how the residents of a high-rise building, detached from the outside world, descend into madness, savagery, and tribalism in the period of just three months. Lesser known is José Saramago’s A caverna [The cave] (2000), an allegorical novel with dystopian leanings in which an old-world potter is forced to move to the Center, which is an ever-expanding complex of apartments and shops that continually absorbs all the surrounding communities.

  60. 60.

    Neate, “Scandal of Europe’s 11m.”

  61. 61.

    In egregious cases like with Torre Lúgano, construction was done so quickly and shoddily that toilets were falling apart, tiles were broken, and doors and windows were defective, even though the residences were branded as luxury apartments. See Balaguer and Navarro, “Si lo sé.” In a time of austerity, ostentatious displays of wealth (especially those that directly contributed to the crisis) are routinely criticized in the Spanish press. So the images of luxury buildings in De Sosa’s film are likely to rouse skepticism and cynicism, particularly among Spanish middle-class viewers and those who are sympathetic to their plight.

  62. 62.

    There is an excellent website dedicated exclusively to Architecture and Dystopia, in which the creator, Daniel K. Brown, presents some probing research questions on the topic and samples of scholarly projects concerning the intersections between dystopia and architecture.

  63. 63.

    Merino, José Luis, “InTempo Colosal,” Ladrones de fuego (blog).

  64. 64.

    Vince, “Architecture After Excess.” In response to the ethical questions regarding preserving architectural structures associated with authoritarian regimes, Vince cites an Iraqi commander, who asks “You people in Europe have kept all the castles of your bad guys, so why shouldn’t we?”

  65. 65.

    Ibid.

  66. 66.

    Lyons, “What ‘ruin porn’ tells”; Verlaan, “Ruin Porn.”

  67. 67.

    Bourdieu, Outline of a Theory, 183.

  68. 68.

    This is evocative of what was once the world’s tallest squat, Torre de David (Tower of David) in Venezuela. See Taylor, “Squatters.” The 45-story high-rise was abandoned before it was completed in the mid-1990s and it was not shut down by the government until 2014. See Fulcher, “Some Like It Squat.” In a city with 70% of the residents living in slums, it is understandable that this building would be transformed into a squat occupied by an estimated 2000 families, despite the inconvenience caused by the improvised systems for dealing with water, electricity, and sewage, as well as the absence of an elevator. Ibid.

  69. 69.

    Moreiras-Menor, “Spectacle, Trauma and Violence.”

  70. 70.

    Cervera, “‘Spain is Different!’”

  71. 71.

    Mayalde, “En la provincia.”

  72. 72.

    Bourdieu, Outline of a Theory, 183.

  73. 73.

    In many respects, the members of the android family seem more like humans than the bounty hunter himself. Since the androids are the first characters to speak (after about 10 minutes into the film), it appears as if they had more agency than they actually do and as if they could actually be human. Also, their affectionate conversations and the compassion that they show toward others suggest a strong sense of humanity.

  74. 74.

    Unlike the assassinations of the androids at the beginning of the film, which sparked little reaction, the deaths of the homosexual android, the father android, and the mother android are all immediately followed by montages accompanied by folkloric songs with meaningful lyrics. The montage after the death of the homosexual android is filled with images of weddings, churches, scenery of the countryside, the interior of a humble home, an elderly woman with a breathing tube in her nose, and a cemetery. The song in the background conveys a sense of solitude, as the lyrics express how it feels not to have a father, a mother, or any other relatives to help out in times of need.

  75. 75.

    A quick google search of “Benidorm before and after” will bring up a barrage of photos that show how much the landscape of Benidorm has changed since the 1960s. Millennials in Benidorm have not had as much access to the natural, untouched beauty of Benidorm as the older generations of Spaniards and even they only have access to it now through their memories.

  76. 76.

    De Sosa, Interview by FilmArte. Titled “Al buen ladrón,” the Lope de Vega poem that serves as the inspiration for the song “Ángeles que estáis de guardia” is a Romance. See Lope de Vega, “Al buen ladrón.” There are several different versions of the poem; however, in the original version, the words “al arma” are repeated twice (whereas it appears as “alarma” the second time in some other versions). The lines of the poem that are included in the song (which are proceeded by the translation from the film) are as follows: “Angeles, que estais de guarda / a los presidios eternos, / al arma, al arma, a la puerta, / que quieren robar el cielo. / ¿Qué importa que de diamantes / os viesse Juan, muros bellos? / que estando Christo clavado” (You angels, who are on the watch / in the eternal prisons / to the weapons, alarm, to the door, / they want to steal all of heaven. / What do those diamonds matter? / What does it matter to you that these beautiful walls see you wearing diamonds / whilst Christ is crucified?). Ibid.

  77. 77.

    A study that shows that “80% de los niños pobres lo son de adultos en Epaña” (80% of children in poverty remain poor as adults in Spain). See “La pobreza.” This demonstrates how poverty can have a detrimental and lasting impact on the younger generation.

  78. 78.

    Dawber, “Benidorm’s Towering Monument.”

  79. 79.

    Bourdieu, Outline of a Theory, 183.

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Palardy, D.Q. (2018). The Architecture of Avarice in Ion de Sosa’s Sueñan los androides or How I Learned to Stop Worrying About the Economic Crisis and Love the Sheep. In: The Dystopian Imagination in Contemporary Spanish Literature and Film. Hispanic Urban Studies. Palgrave Macmillan, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-92885-2_4

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