Broken Embraces

Los abrazos rotos (Broken Embraces, Pedro Almodóvar, Spain, 2009)
OK, some of you may be aware of my love/hate relationship with Pedro Almodóvar. I love elements of his films and hate others. I saw his latest film tonight and need to brain dump. Apologies for any lack of coherence; I could write a whole lot more but don't have the time. I do, however, welcome any feedback and am happy to discuss my opinions or yours, whether you agree with me or not.

In case you're wondering, my Week in Review for last week has been quickly written but requires a basic proof-read. I simply haven't had the time, but hope to post it in the next day or so.

Absent fathers and their now adult sons constitute a recurring theme in Almodóvar films, not surprising given that the director reportedly grew up without his father. In visiting and revisiting the theme, one wonders what Almodóvar is trying to say, given that this potentially heavy subject is usually treated with frivolity or even disdain. The subject appears repeatedly in Almodóvar’s seventeenth film, Broken Embraces, a film that is perhaps his most subdued, nuanced and finely-written, at least of those he has written alone*1. In spite of this compliment, the climactic nature of a crucial revelation is completely undermined by the director shooting himself in the foot – yet again.

One of my biggest criticisms of Almodóvar’s films (and I have many), is his mixture of genres often undermine each other. In Volver, the dramatic tension of a killing is completely defused when it is later treated trivially. A body is revealed to the neighbours and then it’s like “oh, what’s for dinner?” Broken Embraces keeps melodrama to a simmer (for Almodóvar) and the comic elements are thankfully largely absent. Almodóvar spends the best part of two hours setting up a relatively serious story, and when we arrive at the climax (which one can see coming at least an hour away), again it’s ho-hum and the person involved is not the least bit interested. Given Almodóvar’s restraint (welcome as it is, it doesn’t always work), this was a big disappointment and the low-point of the film. It confirms to me once again that Almodóvar simply doesn’t have what it takes to write his own films*2 and would benefit greatly by collaborating with others.

I was surprised by Almodóvar’s restraint in this film. Knowing the basic premise before-hand, I went into the cinema a little cynically, thinking that this would be just more of the same Almodóvar. Having watched all his films at least once (and most of them in close succession), it seems to me that he keeps repeating himself, referencing not just other famous films, but even his own (which he does in this film, too, but more on that later). So a story about a director who falls for his star, whose elderly husband has rejected his gay son didn’t sound overly welcoming to me. The restraint is welcome and yet at times feels laboured and too long. Unusual for Almodóvar, the film tends towards boring at times.

That’s in spite of Penélope Cruz’s breasts, which we get to see not once, but twice. And another gorgeous babe’s as well. For me, it’s just ho-hum, like “so bloody what?”. The view of them on each occasion is so set up, so contrived, like any other artifice in an Almodóvar film – and let’s face it, an Almodóvar film is simply one artifice after another. I love sex and nudity in film as much as anyone, but I found the handling of them in this film quite tacky and distasteful.

Almodóvar raves about Cruz and her acting techniques, but it’s all hype. OK, she can shed tears on tap, so what? There comes a point in time when the repetition become boring and self-conscious. And promoting her as if she were the most beautiful woman on earth? Oh per-lease! She’s ten year’s past her prime – not that there’s anything wrong with that – but if this is how she’s going to allow herself to be represented, then her longevity as an actress is about to wear out.

Almodóvar trademark misandry is given a light treatment in the film. It’s still there, as it is in virtually every one of his films, but perhaps not quite so overtly. It’s main manifestation is in the depiction of Ernesto Sr., the magnate who acquires who and what he wants, to the detriment of others. Most of the other males assume roles as artists or musicians of one sort or another and as usual, Almodóvar treats this class of male much more sympathetically (get it? Gays and artists are OK, all other males are bastards). And - yet again - women can do no wrong. We can forgive their sins, no matter how massive, because they're such loving and adoring mothers. This, quite frankly, is becoming increasingly tedious in its repetition from one Almodóvar film to another.

Another Almodóvar device that I have pointed out previously is his depictions of drug use, as if it were a natural and normal part of society. In my opinion, illegal drugs are one of the many scourges of modern society and while the liberation of Spanish society from the repressive Franco period may have been welcome, the consequent proliferation of drugs there (and anywhere else) is anything but good. I don't see why Almodóvar needs to keep hammering home in a subliminal manner that drugs are OK.

The colour red is a recurring aesthetic in virtually all of Almodóvar’s films, varying stylistically from film to film. In his more frivolous comedies (like Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! and Kika), the colours are even more heightened, or sometimes pastels. In one sense, the frequent appearance of red in Broken Embraces is expected, and I tend to feel it gets too predictable and contrived. Aesthetically, I still find his use of colour very pleasing and it’s variation from film to film minimises the impact of the contrivance. The use of colour in this film is different to any of this other films. It tends more towards natural tones – blues, greens and greys – reflecting the more serious tone of the film, but highlighting the reds when they appear. I have mixed feelings about this because I sense that Almodóvar is perhaps just a bit too conscious of his auteurship and wanting to stamp his signature on each of his films. It seems to me that he doesn’t have enough new ideas and just keeps recycling the same tricks over and over again.

<SPOILER ALERT>
There’s a Tarantino-esque moment (think Inglourious Basterds) of grand self-evaluation at the end of the film when the film within a film is deemed to be a masterpiece. That 'film' is basically an amalgam of various Almodóvar films like Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!, Kika and others, using previously used scenarios like gazpacho with sleeping tablets, a burning mattress, and both zany production design and characters. It’s obviously planted as an indulgence, a conceit, to be especially appreciated by Almodóvar’s fans. It certainly made me smile.
<END SPOILER>

My conclusion: if you like Almodóvar, chances are you'll like this one. It shows that the man's work is evolving but again falls well short of greatness. This film, in spite of welcome restraint, is laboured. For what it's worth, the missus was bored shitless and wanted to leave early. Out of a possible five stars, she would give it zero - yes, zero stars! I don't usually discuss films in terms of such numeric terms, but if I were to, I'd give it three and a half.

*1 Four of Almodóvar’s films credit co-writers – and tend to be among my Almodóvar favourites: Labyrinth of Passion (Terry Lennox), Matador (Jesús Ferrero), Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (Yuyi Beringola) and Live Flesh (Jorge Guerricaechevarría).

*2 Of course, many love Almodóvar, and consider him a darling of European auteurs. He’s obviously capable of writing but his work, in my opinion, never exceeds a basic level of capability. It’s sufficient for an audience that welcomes quirkiness, but it’s never great, never profound. Rather, it’s just entertaining on a superficial level.

La Mirada 2009 in Review

I've mentioned more than once that La Mirada is one of my favourite film festivals. Partly it's the enthusiasm and organisation of the festival director, Rocio Garcia. Partly it's the festive atmosphere, with generous door prizes of DVDs, books, T-shirts, cosmetics, Spanish classes, free tickets, etc. (not that I've ever won anything). Sometimes there's five or more prizes per session. And partly it's the programming of films by Pedro Almodóvar, the director whose work I feel most ambivalent about. Yes, I have a love-hate relationship with his films, and I find they stimulate ample discussion over what I consider both their strengths and weaknesses.

Each year, I focus on the older films selected by Almodóvar, films that have inspired him. In 2007, his selections focused more on the canon, the classic Spanish films like Spirit of the Beehive and The Executioner. I was a little disappointed by 2008's selections, many of which I found melodramatic. But this had much relevance to Almodóvar's work, which is afterall, very melodramatic. In my opinion, it's the weak point in his films.

This year, the Almodóvar's selections were more serious and gutsy, and overall I enjoyed them immensely. I caught all five in this section, as well as Woody Allen's selection for the festival. Unfortunately I couldn't make it to the screening of Penélope Cruz's selection, but I did see 9 films in all. Here's my 2c worth.

Furtivos (The Poachers, José Luis Borau, Spain, 1975)
An intriguing story, very dramatic, with strong political overtones. It was, afterall, made in the dying days of the Franco dictatorship. I'm sure the story was very allegorical, but I couldn't translate what events were referring to in the political context of the day. In this respect, it was a little like the politics depicted in early Kieslowski films like Blind Chance. Australian films rarely depict politics, and it's something I like to see, even if I don't entirely 'get' it.

Bilbao (Bigas Luna, Spain, 1978)
A very gutsy film, and only the second by Luna. As Rocio Garcia mentioned in introducing the film, it can be seen as being pornographic, but it never feels gratuitous or exploitative. It does, however, challenge an audience with its graphic depictions of nudity, sexuality and sexual violence. This film clearly inspired Almodóvar's Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!, but is of a completely different mood and style.

La lengua de las mariposas (Butterfly's Tongue, José Luis Cuerda, Spain, 1999)
This was Woody Allen's contribution as guest programmer. Apparently it's his favourite Spanish film. I wonder how the hell he would ever have become acquainted with the film, as it doesn't seem like a film that would have had a release outside of Spain. It's a fairly mainstream story with some character stereotypes, but competently made. Not really my cup of tea.

La buena vida (The Good Life, Andrés Wood, Chile/Spain/Argentina/France, 2008)
This is a sort of social-realist ensemble film, combining different human stories of people struggling in various endeavours. It has a fairly bleak, naturalistic look but feels compromised to appeal to a middle-class audience. It's a worthy film, but forgettable.

Arrebato (Rapture, Iván Zulueta, Spain, 1980)
A difficult film, drenched in drugs and delusion, historically significant. Almodóvar was involved - his voice is used to dub over an actresses lines at one stage. It also depicts a lifestyle of decadence that Almodóvar was very much a part of, that engulfed Spain in the wake of the downfall of fascism. I really liked that La Mirada has the guts to show films like this and Bilbao.

Surcos (Furrows, José Antonio Nieves Conde, Spain, 1951)
Visually fantastic film, a kind of cross of the aesthetics and characterisations of the best of New Wave and classic Hollywood cinema. While the film's political context was explained with an introduction, I was still a little confused as to why it was both such a propaganda piece for the government in some respects and yet provoked the ire of the censor with other respects. The capturing of a way of life all but gone in modern Spain is just beautiful. One of the most enjoyable films of the festival.

La casa de mi padre (Blacklisted, Gorka Merchán, Spain, 2008)
A contemporary film, set in the Basque region. It's gutsy for it's attempt to show both sides of the conflict between the ETA Basque separatists and the government stand. Mostly, it feels like a middle of the road family drama, but the political element puts it a level or two above what it might otherwise have been.

La mujer sin cabeza (The Headless Woman, Lucrecia Martel, Argentina, 2008)
A really interesting contemporary film, about a woman who may or may not have run over a boy and driven off. For 87 minutes, we suffer the claustrophic perspective of this woman as she suffers her guilt in silence. I have been in a similar situation and could really relate to the story.

Mi querida senorita (My Dearest Senorita, Jaime de Armiñán, Spain, 1971)
That sneaky Almodóvar, he had to sneak a melodrama in there somehow. This was it. It must have been a challenging film for its time, but is certainly tame by modern standards. I found it of most interest as an influence on Almodóvar though it tends to lack focus.


My pick of La Mirada:
Bilbao and Rapture for their gutsy depictions
Furrows for an engaging story and beautiful black and white visuals
The Headless Woman for an original and engaging story

Spanish Film Festival 1

El camino de los ingleses (Summer Rain, Antonio Banderas, 2006)
Long before Antonio Banderas became acquainted to English-speaking audiences in films like The Mambo Kings, Philadelphia, Interview With a Vampire, Desperado and Zorro, he was a well-known actor in his native Spain. Pedro Almodóvar's second feature, Labyrinth of Passion (1982) was also his second film, and he subsequently appeared in other Almodóvar films such as Law of Desire, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown and Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!

There are numerous nods to Almodóvar in the film: at one point we see an overhead shot of Victoria Abril in a bath. Abril and Banderas both starred in Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!, in which Abril was depicted in a bath pleasuring herself with a toy diver. Other Almodóvar references include depictions of blood, the prominence of shades of red, and especially the colours of red and green appearing together.

Summer Rain is Banderas' second feature; the first was Crazy in Alabama, 1999, starring his wife, Melanie Griffith. The Spanish title actually translates as The English Road, and refers to the coming-of-age theme of leaving one's hometown for the wide world in order to find oneself and one's place in the world. It's a theme similar to Dito Montiel's A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints.

Montiel's film is a gritty realist urban drama set in Astoria, NYC while Summer Rain is a semi-surreal story bathed in lush hues in Málaga, Banderas' home town in regional Spain. Interestingly, both these films depict selective recollection of childhood memories, but in vastly different ways. AGTRYS is dark and uses a hand-held camera to depict the shaky nature of memory. Banderas uses boldly colourful symbolism and dream-like sequences for his depictions.

Summer Rain is based on El camino de los ingleses by Antonio Soler, who also adapted the novel for the film. While the story is fictitious, it appears that Banderas related it to his own life story; the film is set in the late '70s when Banderas left Málaga to pursue a career in Madrid. While the film looks beautiful, I had problems with the narrative.

I sensed this was an important film, perhaps even a cathartic film for Banderas. There were ample opportunities to emotionally manipulate the audience that thankfully he avoided. It may even be important or cathartic for others, but while I admire its sincerity and its artistry, it didn't really engage me emotionally. It couldn't suck me into its dream-like world the way it clearly tried to. I'm not sure that I can pinpoint why that is so.

Bear in mind that Banderas and I were born in the same year, and I also left my home town of Melbourne in 1979 to go to university in Adelaide (I lasted one trimester). This was the beginning of a long and strange journey of my own, but enough about me. The acting in the film was fine and the characterisations were all satisfactory. Somehow the film lacked a certain coherence that could take me on its journey. At 118 minutes running time, I also found it too long.

To Banderas' credit, he didn't take the safe route with the film. He took risks and he has put his own mark on a well-known theme without resorting to genre. The film explores universal themes but with cultural specifics that I find fascinating - I have a soft spot for Spanish cinema - certainly a refreshing break from Hollywood stereotypes. But somehow, the film as a whole didn't grab me.



Summer Rain screens at:

• Palace Westgarth, Thursday May 17, 6.30pm
  
• Palace Como, Friday May 18, 9.00pm

Dir: Antonio Banderas Rating: Unclassified Duration: 118 min Genre: drama Language: Spanish Country: Spain Release: festival only Prod Co: Green Moon Productions, Sogecine, Future Films Prod: Antonio Banderas, Gustavo Ferrada, Carlos Taillefer, Antonio Meliveo Scr: Antonio Soler Sound Des: Carlos Faruolo Phot: Xavi Giménez Ed: Mercedes Alted Prod Des: Javier Fernández Mus: Antonio Meliveo Cast: Alberto Amarilla, María Ruiz, Félix Gómez, Raúl Arévalo, Marta Nieto, Mario Casas, Fran Perea, Antonio Garrido, Antonio Zafra, Victoria Abril

Official Selection Sundance Film Festival 2007,
Official Selection Berlin International Film Festival
Winner Label Europa Cinema (best European film in Panorama Section of Berlin)
Nominated for 2007 Goya for best new actor and best adapted screenplay

Melbourne Spanish Film Festival / Official website / IMDB

The Week in Review, La Mirada

FILMS:

• Trois couleurs: Bleu (Three Colors: Blue, Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1993)
• Przypadek (Blind Chance, Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1981*)
  
• El extraño viaje (Strange Voyage, Fernando Fernán Gómez, 1964^)
• Alatriste (Agustín Díaz Yanes, 2006)
• Mutual Appreciation (Andrew Bujalski, 2005)
• El verdugo (The Executioner, Luis García Berlanga, 1963)
  

* Premiered in 1987, delayed due to communist censorship
^ Premiered in 1971, delayed due to fascist censorship

BOOKS I'M READING:

• A Spanish Labyrinth: The Films of Pedro Almodovóvar (Mark Allinson, 2001)

It's been a week of extraordinary films, the highlight being the Kieslowski double as described in my earlier post. I'll be definitely seeing the remaining Kieslowski films on for the next three weeks.

Strange Voyage, Alatriste and The Executioner screened as part of La Mirada - Jewels of Spanish Cinema. I'd intended to see the Astor screenings of Lifeboat (Alfred Hitchcock, 1944) and All About Eve (Joseph Mankiewicz, 1950), but opted for The Executioner at the last minute, as I felt this would be my only opportunity to see it on the big screen. I'm interested to see Mankiewicz's film in the context of its reference by Almodóvar's All About My Mother. It'll have to wait for another Astor screening or else DVD.

Strange Voyage was fascinating for a number of reasons. Firstly, the fact that the fascist censors banned it. Quite lame by today's standards, it depicts a woman dancing the twist in a raunchy manner, a cross-dressing male, murder and more.

The film employs Hitchcock-like suspense and imagery with a blend of humour, frivolity and drama that clearly has been inspirational to Pedro Almodóvar's work. It looks like a film he would have made at the time. It was programmed by him for the festival, and La Mirada has posted his comments about its selection.

Alatriste is a major epic and Spain's most expensive film (a 20th Century Fox production), and stars an impressive and obviously multi-lingual Viggo Mortensen. At two and a half hours, I found the film overly long and the narrative was not well measured. I'm not a big fan of the epic war genre, and there's only so much killing and slashing that I can take - I was pretty restless for the last 30 minutes. It was, however, well made and fans of the genre would love it. And Mortensen wear a fantastic hat!

The Executioner is reputedly Spain's most critically acclaimed film of all time. It wasn't my pick of La Mirada, but is an entertaining and skillfully made dark comedy. It's about an undertaker who falls for an executioner's daughter who inadvertently and unwillingly follows his father-in-law's trade.

Employing gallows humour, it also appears to be a subtle critique of the Franco regime. Too subtle for the censors of the time, apparently. Fortunately, I had already seen Salvador (Puig Antich) at La Mirada last week, which showed in detail how a garrotting is performed (and it is damned barbaric - medieval in nature), so some of the implied meaning was not lost on me. Particularly poignant was the executioner looking at his son-in-law's neck and stating his shirt size.

For a small film festival, La Mirada has made an impressive debut. It has been exceptionally well organised, with several government and corporate sponsors, and the patronage of Almodóvar himself. At the beginning of each session there have been multiple audience prizes such as books on Spanish cinema, CDs, restaurant vouchers and more. The organisers have gone to great pains to receive feedback from audiences for further improvements. I've been very impressed with the festival and its organisation and look forward to the festival's return next year.

I had heard good things about Andrew Bujalski's Mutual Appreciation so was disappointed to learn that it wasn't getting a cinema release here. The Astor had a single screening of it this afternoon so I made a point of attending. Maybe I just didn't get it because I was, unfortunately, disappointed. It seemed inane. I also didn't see the point of filming in black and white.

Volver

Penélope Cruz & Yohana Cobo, Volver (Courtesy Dendy Films)

As with any meaningful art form, perception of a film may change over time as one evolves. And appreciation of a director or his works may evolve as one sees subsequent works or even repeat viewings of the same work. I have seen five or so of Pedro Almodóvar's films, enjoyed each of them, but never quite understood the degree of reverence others have for this director. Watching Volver, I feel I can start to pinpoint what troubles me about his work. It's not that I dislike Almodóvar's films but there are significant aspects that fail (or perhaps elude) me.

Almodóvar is a perfectionist and is nothing if not expert in the technical aspects of film-making. In Volver the camera work is beautiful to watch. There are interesting angles and the scenes are well edited. The score merges effectively, seamlessly and unpretentiously into the film's narrative.

The ample use of vibrant colours and lighting are superb, adding stylistically to the film. The colour red is especially bold and recurrent: lipstick, clothing, a car, the cutting up of red peppers and especially the mopping up of blood. Not since American Beauty have I seen a crimson pool depicted in such an exquisitely artful manner.

Spain has a turbulent history that continues to this day. Unlike many of his compatriots, Almodóvar seems uninterested in depicting politics in his films even though he has taken a public stand on political issues. His films are more concerned with the narration of human stories and relationships – dysfunctional or otherwise. They are often populated with characters of ambiguous sexuality and perversity, a defining and intriguing quality of his work.

While Volver is full of dysfunctional and fractured relationships, the only moral dubiousness involves the smoking of a joint by one character and a neighbour who supports herself by prostitution. In trademark Almodóvar style, these incidents are treated nonchalantly without moral judgement.

The film is culturally rich, capturing stylised glimpses of Spanish village life with its superstitions, rituals and idiosyncrasies. It has much in common with my perception of Italian culture and social traits. There was, for example, ample cheek-kissing, which appeared to be exaggerated with a light comedic effect.

Where Volver fails to connect with me is in the crucial areas of plot and characterisation. There are gaping plausibility holes in the plot and characterisation fails in two areas: camp melodrama and gender stereotyping.

Almodóvar is famous for his depiction of strong female characters. While he shuns description as a gay film-maker (but rather, a film-maker who happens to be gay), I suspect that his life experiences have a significant impact on his gender depiction.

Many males, gay and straight, grow up experiencing bastardisation by other males. Just as there are females whose attitude is that 'all men are bastards', there are males who share that view. Volver also seems to project a position that all men (well, at least heterosexual ones) indeed are bastards.

Reflecting Almodóvar’s reported upbringing, males are superfluous in Volver. The only male character with anything approximating significant screen time is a caricature. From his introduction he is clearly set up as a domestic monster. With no ambiguity to his character at all, his chauvinism is rammed home with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

In one scene we are subjected to an extreme close-up in which we are forced to feel nothing but disgust towards the character. Were something adverse to befall him, we would feel no pity for him. Another male is absent, but ostensibly of similar character. Almodóvar doesn't risk that we will fail to judge men poorly.

Conversely, the female characters appear to be celebrated not just in spite of, but because of their flaws. A woman can have a 'princess bitch' syndrome, but because she's beautiful, we can more than accommodate this. Or so the director seems to think. There is a flawed lack of both subtlety and balance in the treatment of male and female characters. For me this detracts from the sense of humanity of the director, his work or both, and an obstruction to engaging fully with the film.

Much has been said by others about the preoccupation that Hollywood has with male roles to the detriment of good female roles. It is arguable how many good roles are available in Hollywood for anyone. Putting that question aside, a common stereotype is a set up with entirely male protagonists and antagonists in which females play minor incidental roles that are no more than window dressing.

Almodóvar has been lauded by prominently putting women in strong roles, supposedly reversing stereotype. While it's highly desirable to see women in good roles, I find Almodóvar’s depiction the opposite side of the same sexist coin. The polar opposite of the Arctic is still ice. The opposite of exclusion of one is not the exclusion of the other – it is inclusion.

If Hollywood is sexist and misogynistic, then Almodóvar's work may also be seen as sexist – not misogynistic, but misandrist. His work doesn’t counter a gender imbalance – it merely adds to it. Bear in mind that I believe there is an ubiquitous and overlooked attitude of misandry in western society.

Am I reading too deeply into Almodóvar's films? Maybe. After all, though he is a serious film-maker, he doesn't seem to take himself too seriously. His films seem to be largely tongue-in-cheek, verging on comedy and melodrama. Volver often feels like it will break into slapstick, but fortunately doesn't. This leads to another problem I have with his work.

Almodóvar is a perfectionist with the technical aspects of his films; they look like art house films. Yet the characterisations often appear to be not that far removed from television soap opera with its camp melodrama. Volver, by the way, includes trash TV in the storyline. Coincidence? I think not. More likely he is paying homage to it.

Too much of the plot seems to be intentionally manipulated to follow an implausible pre-engineered destination. It disrupts the natural flow of the narrative. Resisting logic, the film lacks verisimilitude and it becomes hard to emotionally buy into the story.
Some examples of how Volver resembles soap opera:

• Little Penélope Cruz lifts an impossible weight by herself
• Shocking incidents in which the participants don't appear sufficiently traumatised (as if the incidents were almost passé)
• Others who are blasé when they learn of said incidents
• Melodramatic acting

There are some genuinely good emotional moments, but the plausibility gap renders the flow fractured.

Almodóvar has described Volver as a dramatic comedy. He has intentionally mixed genres, treading a line between Hollywood mainstream, Italian and Latin American melodrama and European arthouse. It tries to be all things for all people, but one element detracts from another.

Interestingly, Almodóvar produced Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labrynth which also mixes genres (fantasy/horror and drama), and also with mixed results.

The previously mentioned American Beauty is an example of a film that more successfully combines drama and comedy. It has other uncanny similarities: both films are concerned with family dysfunctionality, moral ambiguity, perversity, smoking of joints and violent death. Sam Mendes’ film succeeds where Volver fails because of the respective levels of plausibility.

François Ozon is a dramatic film-maker who has flirted with comedy (8 Femmes) but in separate films. While I prefer his more serious films like Under The Sand and Time To Leave, his comedy is more entertaining than Almodóvar’s. I’m not questioning Almodóvar’s skill, but I do doubt his judgement.

Critics have heaped praise on the performance of Cruz. I enjoyed her performance, but don't understand the degree of accolades. It seems to me that aspects of her role were gratuitous, and that she landed the role for three reasons: her popularity, her perceived beauty and her ample breasts.

While Cruz does look nice on screen and her acting is undoubtedly credible, her casting appears to be window dressing that detracts from the realism of the film. The remaining characters look much more authentic. The film is overtly conscious of and preoccupied with her beauty (and her breasts in particular) to the point it becomes tiresome.

There is much to like about this film, but it represents a wasted opportunity. Much of it is shallow, emotionally unengaging, unsatisfying and ultimately forgettable. Like X-Files' Fox Mulder, I want to believe, and am simultaneously intrigued and nonplussed by this unconventional director. Right now, I don't fully believe. I intend to revisit his films to both get a better handle on Almodóvar’s intent and to further test my hypotheses.

Dir, Scr: Pedro Almodóvar Rating: M Duration: 121 min Genre: comedy/drama Language: Spanish Country: Spain Release: 21/12/06, limited Dist: Dendy Films Prod Co: El Deseo Prod: Agustín Almodóvar, Esther García Sound Des: Miguel Rejas Phot: José Luis Alcaine Ed: José Salcedo Prod Des: Salvador Parra Mus: Alberto Iglesias Cast: Penélope Cruz, Carmen Maura, Lola Dueñas, Blanca Portillo, Yohana Cobo, Chus Lampreave

Official website IMDB

In loving memory of my gentle son Abhi Martin 31/8/89 - 14/12/06