Los abrazos rotos / Broken Embraces (Pedro Almodóvar, 2009)

Penélope Cruz and Lluís Homar

Director: Pedro Almodóvar

Screenwriter: Pedro Almodóvar

Cast: Penélope Cruz, Lluís Homar, Blanca Portillo, Tamar Novas, Rubén Ochandiano, José Luis Gómez, Ángela Molina.

Synopsis: Told in flashback, as a man reminisces about meeting the love of his life, Broken Embraces tells the story of the production of a film fourteen years earlier, the love affair between the director and the lead actress, and the punishments inflicted on the actress by her financier husband. The film was hacked to pieces under the financier's influence, but a greater tragedy than bad reviews awaited the couple...

I was initially disappointed when I saw this film, at least in part because I’d hyped it up in my own mind (I seriously need to calm down about La piel que habito, or it’ll happen again). My reaction after my first viewing was that it unravels, or deflates, about three-quarters of the way through when Judit (Portillo), has to fill in the blanks to what we have seen in flashback as Mateo / Harry (Homar) recounted the story of his last film as a director to Diego (Novas). I felt that too much exposition was done in that one scene and it also seemed jarring that we were being told rather shown what happened. But watching it again now, that scene does not seem as jarring, although I do still think that the film just kind of tails off at the end. However, even with those ‘doubts’ in mind, the film is still a powerful and heartfelt meditation on cinema and filmmaking; the film stands as a love letter to cinema, and to his (then) current muse, Penélope Cruz. The scenes where Mateo meets Lena (Cruz) for the first time and then sets about turning her into his lead actress clearly demonstrate why Cruz is a star -the camera loves her as much as Pedro does. I don’t think that it’s a coincidence that the ‘deflation’ (from my perspective) happens after Lena (Cruz) has left the narrative –Cruz’s absence is palpable, and although that fits with the desolation that Mateo is initially left with, to me it made the film feel a bit unbalanced (even though we see her performance in Chicas y maletas (the film within the film) at the end of the film).

Volver (Pedro Almodóvar, 2006)

Yohana Cobo and Penélope Cruz

Director: Pedro Almodóvar

Screenwriter: Pedro Almodóvar

Cast: Penélope Cruz, Carmen Maura, Lola Dueñas, Blanca Portillo, Yohana Cobo, Chus Lampreave, Antonio de la Torre.

Synopsis: Raimunda (Cruz) has raised her daughter (Cobo) in the city, far away from the village where she grew up and the painful memories of a fractious relationship with her now-dead mother (Maura). But the past has a way of catching up with you - Raimunda's sister, Sole (Dueñas), returns from their aunt's (Lampreave) funeral apparently experiencing visions of their dead mother. But is she dead? And what does their aunt's neighbour (Portillo) know? But Raimunda has enough problems of her own -like what to do with the dead man (de la Torre) in her kitchen...

This is probably my favourite of Almodóvar’s films, although it does have some pretty strong competition. Few directors can veer so masterfully between comedy and tragedy as Almodóvar does in this film, sometimes within a single scene –it is genuinely funny but also carries a powerful emotional punch. My longer post on the film, seen through the prism of Cruz’s star image, is here.

La mala educación / Bad Education (Pedro Almodóvar, 2004)

Gael García Bernal

Director: Pedro Almodóvar

Screenwriter: Pedro Almodóvar

Cast: Gael García Bernal, Fele Martínez, Lluís Homar, Daniel Jiménez Cacho, Javier Camára, Francisco Boira.

Synopsis: Where to begin with this one? ‘In 1980s Madrid two young men, filmmaker Enrique (Martínez) and aspiring actor Ignacio (García Bernal) open up dark secrets as they revisit their early years together at a Catholic school. As they try to uncover the truth about themselves, each other and the diverse characters in their story, they realize that things and people are not as they first seem’ (from the UK edition of the DVD because it’s a more concise summary than I could come up with).

This is one of those films that is best seen with as little knowledge about the plot as possible. Probably Almodóvar’s most narratively-complex film, we are given several narrative layers, a film within a film, and flashbacks that are not entirely trustworthy. With hindsight (or on second viewing), the complexity of the plot is signaled in the design of the opening credits (designed by Juan Gatti, Almodóvar’s habitual collaborator on credit sequences, posters, and press-packs since Women on the Verge…); layers are torn back to reveal names and other images underneath, and pictures are turned into mosaics (a motif in the film) as if torn up in a fit of pique. As the film unfolds we come to see that that we should not trust what is being presented to us; the past is being reconfigured, or rewritten, to suit the desires of one particular person (although he appears in many different guises).

I loved the film when I saw it for the first time and went back to see it again a couple of days later (it is definitely a film that can withstand multiple viewings), taking a friend with me who had never seen an Almodóvar film before. She was left speechless (and not in a good way), so be warned that it is not to everyone’s taste –but I think that people who like his films will find much to enjoy here (there are quite a lot of visual references to his other films hidden in the mix as well).

Hable con ella / Talk to Her (Pedro Almodóvar, 2002)

Dario Grandinetti, Javier Camára and Leonor Watling

Director: Pedro Almodóvar

Screenwriter: Pedro Almodóvar

Cast: Javier Camára, Dario Grandinetti, Leonor Watling, Rosario Flores, Geraldine Chaplin.

Synopsis: Two men, a nurse (Camára) and a travel writer (Grandinetti), care for two comatose women (Watling and Flores). Through a series of flashbacks we discover how the women (a ballerina and a matador respectively) came to be in their comatose states, but also realise that their relationships with the men are not what they first appear to be.

A film that is both dark and unsettling but also nonetheless profoundly moving, especially in the later stages. On first viewing I don’t think that I ‘liked’ it, but it has grown on me over the years thanks in part to the two central performances from Camára and Grandinetti, but also because of Almodóvar’s refusal to judge his characters –it is now among my favourites of his films. A longer post on the film can be found here.

Pedro and Penélope

    Penélope Cruz has appeared in four Almodóvar films to date (Live Flesh (1997), All About My Mother (1999), Volver (2006), and Broken Embraces (2009)). I was going to simply write about Volver for the blog, it is among my favourite films, but in my mind the film is inextricably linked to Cruz and her star image (in part, no doubt, because that was the prism through which I initially viewed it –see note at the end of this post). Almodóvar has over the years worked with a succession of female muses: Carmen Maura, Victoria Abril, Marisa Paredes, and most recently Penélope Cruz. He adeptly both plays to their strengths and also pushes them beyond what they have delivered for other directors –labelling him a ‘women’s director’ is often meant to be derogatory, but Almodóvar directs women like few others. While his muses have played iconic roles for other directors, I would argue that the roles given to them by Almodóvar are among their most memorable, and (in terms of UK audiences) often their best known as well. It is a well-circulated story in her interviews that after sneaking into a screening of Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (1990), a young Penélope Cruz told her mother that she was going to be an actress and would someday work with Almodóvar. This post looks at how her career has intersected with his, and why Volver can be seen as a ‘star vehicle’ custom-made for her.

Todo sobre mi madre / All About My Mother (Pedro Almodóvar, 1999)

Antonia San Juan, Cecilia Roth and Penélope Cruz

Director: Pedro Almodóvar

Screenwriter: Pedro Almodóvar

Cast: Cecilia Roth, Antonia San Juan, Penélope Cruz, Marisa Paredes, Candela Pena, Rosa María Sardà, Fernando Fernán Gómez, Eloy Azorín, Toni Cantó.

Synopsis: After watching a stage production of A Streetcar Named Desire as a treat for her son's birthday, Manuela (Roth) watches in horror as her only child (Azorín) is killed in a hit and run while chasing after his favourite actress (Paredes) for an autograph. In a state of shock, Manuela leaves Madrid to return to Barcelona (after a long absence) in search of her former husband (Cantó) to tell him about their son. Along the way she meets old friends and makes new ones...

Along with Women on the Verge… this is the film I usually suggest when someone asks me where they should start with Almodóvar –I think it is among the most accessible of his films, but without losing any of the elements that make his films so distinctive.

Carne trémula / Live Flesh (Pedro Almodóvar, 1997)

Francesca Neri and Javier Bardem

Director: Pedro Almodóvar

Screenwriter: Pedro Almodóvar, Ray Loriga, and Jorge Guerricaechevarria (based on a novel by Ruth Rendell)

Cast: Javier Bardem, Francesca Neri, Liberto Rabal, Ángela Molina, José Sancho, Penélope Cruz, Pilar Bardem, Alex Angulo.

Synopsis: During a confrontation between two policemen (Bardem and Sancho) and a youth, Victor (Rabal), in Elena's (Neri) apartment, a gun goes off and one of the policemen, David (Bardem), is shot, leaving him paralysed from the waist down. By the time Victor is released from prison, David and Elena have married and the former policeman is representing Spain in basketball at the Paralympics. But Victor feels he has been wronged and swears revenge...

The Inspector Wexford TV series was never like this! Almodóvar uses the Ruth Rendell novel as a starting point but then takes the initial situation (the shooting of a policeman) in his own inimitable direction. This seems to be another of his lesser-known films in the UK, probably in part because it is somewhat difficult to track down (it appears to currently be OOP, but secondhand copies can be found on ebay and Amazon). My longer post on the film is here.

La flor de mi secreto / The Flower of My Secret (Pedro Almodóvar, 1995)

Marisa Paredes and Imanol Arias

Director: Pedro Almodóvar

Screenwriter: Pedro Almodóvar

Cast: Marisa Paredes, Juan Echanove, Imanol Arias, Chus Lampreave, Rossy De Palma.

Synopsis: Leo (Paredes) secretly writes bestselling romance novels under the pseudonym Amanda Gris, but as her marriage to Paco (Arias) falls apart (he is in Brussels working for NATO) she finds herself unable to write and her fiction takes a darker turn, much to the annoyance of her publisher (who threatens to sue). Hoping to be taken seriously as a writer, and wanting to leave her romance novels behind, Leo approaches Angel (Echanove) -the arts editor at El País- about writing criticism for the paper. Her first job? Reviewing the new Amanda Gris anthology. She decides to commit commercial suicide and attacks the book with gusto. Everything comes to a head when Paco comes home on leave…

The film marks the beginning of a more ‘serious’ phase in Almodóvar’s career. Aside from Marisa Paredes’s powerfully pain-stricken performance, it is probably most interesting for containing elements that would go on the shape the plots of All About My Mother and Volver. The organ donation scenes (specifically the training course for doctors, which features a nurse called Manuela ‘playing’ the mother in the role play) recur in All About My Mother, and the plot of the much darker novel (‘The Freezer’) that is rejected by the Amanda Gris publishers includes plot points that appear in Volver (the freezer of the title is where the main character hides her husband’s body in the restaurant next door).

Kika (Pedro Almodóvar, 1993)

Victoria Abril

Director: Pedro Almodóvar

Screenwriter: Pedro Almodóvar

Cast: Verónica Forqué, Victoria Abril, Peter Coyote, Alex Casanovas, Rossy De Palma.

Synopsis: Make-up artist Kika (Forqué) lives with her photographer boyfriend Ramón (Casanovas) who remains obsessed with his mother’s suicide some years earlier. Ramón’s ex-stepfather (and Kika’s ex-lover), Nicholas (an American writer (Coyote)), returns to Madrid after two years of travelling and moves into the studio above their apartment. Andrea (Abril) is a former psychologist (and Ramón’s ex) who now presents a garish reality TV show, El peor del día (The Worst of the Day), which broadcasts real footage of horrific crimes. Meanwhile, an escaped rapist seeks assistance from his sister (De Palma), who happens to be Kika’s housekeeper…

A.k.a. the first Almodóvar film I ever saw. Despite it being disliked by many people, and despite my own ‘issues’ with the film (namely the rape scene), I do hold it in some affection simply because it was my introduction to the director. It gives a scathing critique of ‘reality’ television and is a difficult film to like, perhaps not surprisingly given that Almodóvar has said that it is about ‘the sickness of big cities’ (Strauss 2006: 123). But Verónica Forqué gives a wonderful performance as the ever-optimistic Kika (and was memorably described in Sight & Sound as ‘a curious combination of Judy Holliday and Barbara Windsor’ by Paul Julian Smith (1994: 8)), and Victoria Abril also looks like she’s having fun as the deeply malevolent Andrea Caracortada (‘Scarface’). 

Machos in Madrid: Carne trémula / Live Flesh (Pedro Almodóvar, 1997)

Javier Bardem and José Sancho

       Paul Julian Smith states that, along with Almodóvar’s previous film (The Flower of My Secret (1995)), Live Flesh signals the start of a more mature phase of the director’s career (2003: 150), although it maintains several of his predominant interests, including the subversion of gender stereotypes (Smith 1998: 8). Live Flesh is effectively a treatise on machismo and the damage that it inflicts on both men and women, articulated through the generic guise of a thriller. It was the first of Almodóvar’s films to focus exclusively on masculinity and its incarnations (although women are the cause of much that goes on in the film), and Rikki Morgan-Tamosunas argues that this focus on male characters ‘exposes some of the contradictions inherent in traditional notions of masculinity’ (2002: 190). 

     Steve Marsh posits that the film is also the first of Almodóvar’s films to use men as something more than ciphers and that not only are they imbued with history, but they are also constructed by it (2004: 54): ‘While this is indisputably Almodóvar’s male movie, its exploration of heterosexual masculinity is intimately linked to the political configurations of the time and space of the city of Madrid’ (58). Almodóvar is part of Madrid’s cultural heritage, having been a major figure in la movida in the 1980s, and all of his films (including Live Flesh) had been set in Madrid. However, Almodóvar had always been a chronicler of the here and now, refusing to focus on the past, and his films were famous for avoiding direct references to Franco or the dictatorship; what marks out Live Flesh is that it is the last of his films (to date) to be set exclusively in Madrid (his next film, All About My Mother (1999), was his first to be set outside of Madrid (it mainly takes place in Barcelona) and his subsequent films have been made in a variety of locations), and the first in which Spain’s past reverberates through the narrative. History, masculinity, the city of Madrid, and Spain itself, become encapsulated in the lives of the three male characters (Sancho (José Sancho), David (Javier Bardem), and Víctor (Liberto Rabal)).