Its title given to Ripstein by Octavio Paz – and taken from a seminal essay on Marcel Duchamp – The Castle of Purity is itself an absolute work of high art which uses its haunting poetic imagery and rigorous avoidance of explanation to conjure a frightening yet strangely familiar world shadowed with somber metaphors. Starring Buñuel regular Claudio Brook as a father who imprisons his wife and children in their crumbling mansion home for eighteen years, operating an artisanal rat poison production to support themselves, The Castle of Purity only gradually reveals the rigid laws and logic of the father who exerts total and unflagging dominion over his family. As the unquestioned imprisonment comes under increased strain from within while the father's will never falters, The Castle of Purity begins to simultaneously inspire and resist the stubborn meaning that clings to the narrative; readings of the film, for example, that discover a critique of the State or exploitation of the Third World. Yet the strange effect of the film ultimately lies in the uncanny familiarity of the father's cruel regimentation, reminding us of the ways we ourselves are thoroughly subjected and shaped by the concentric institutions of state, school, church, family.