By Dan Cohen, Santa Monica Reporter
Pedro Almodovar’s distinctive and masterful films have made him Spain’s best known director and a brand name around the world. While he may be more popular in Europe, he commands a sizable following here. Over the past twenty years he’s earned a slew of international prizes and two Academy Awards; Best Foreign film for “All About My Mother,” (1999) and Best Original Screenplay for his follow up, “Talk To Her,” (2002.)
A Spanish language film taking America’s top award for screen writing? Unthinkable, but it happened!
Still, many here find his work inaccessible, like jokes they don’t get, no matter how many times they’re repeated. There’s no arguing that Almodovar is something of an acquired taste. And that he’s easier to track if you have some knowledge of the Hollywood melodramas that have inspired him. Also, he’s too much of an artist to want to please everybody. But if you invest a little time sampling a number of his films, you may be rewarded with hours of pleasure.
That having been said, I think “Broken Embraces,” his latest, is a high point. It may also be a good introduction for those who don’t know him but are curious about all the critical acclaim. It features what is probably Penelope Cruz’ best role to date, a tantalizing story that baits with you sex and intrigue, and a conclusion, that despite all the “broken embraces,” bears witness to the power of enduring personal bonds. In other words, it’s very satisfying.
But before I “embrace” the movie, a little about “Pedro’s” amazing career.
He started making short films in the mid 1970s, just as the Franco regime’s restrictive grip on Spanish culture began to loosen. Soon after the dictator died, sex and religion became flash points for a new generation of provocateurs. Almodovar, an aspiring filmmaker, pretty much self taught, was in the right place ; Madrid. His films, with outrageous titles (probably best unmentioned here,) with their promises of illicit sex, played late night venues all over the city. His reputation grew.
Features followed. The first few were very low budget. But the emphasis on campy humor and occasionally shocking sex were perfectly in synch with the country’s more liberal posture. The breakthrough probably came with “What Have I Done To Deserve This,” a cruelly funny comedy about an cash strapped housewife who endures unending humiliation at the hands of her grossly insensitive family. The movie’s rough charm holds up today.
International acclaim arrived with 1988s “Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown.” This fast and funny farce, styled after Hollywood’s screwball comedies, deals with the more affluent group, but once again centers on a wronged wife. The characters, most of them on a full throttle tear, fueled by high anxiety, are all one step away from the absurd. It’s a rich reflection of a society moving too fast for its players.
Almodovar shrewdly kept the sex under wraps in “Women,” but cut loose with “Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down,” about a mental patient, a young, red hot Antonio Banderas, who abducts a porn star, a mature but sizzling Victoria Abril. The controversy that surrounded the film’s American release compelled the Motion Picture rating board to change it’s “X” category to NC-17, to lessen the stigma on legitimate films that dealt with explicit sex. In the case of “Tie Me Up” it amounted to, heaven forbid, a shot or two of pubic hair. That was in 1990. Today it looks a lot tamer.
“Tie Me Up” is my favorite of his films from that period. Where his prior stories were, to varying degrees, informed by a gay sensibility, “Tie” eagerly celebrates male heterosexual fantasies. With a wink, of course. It came as a surprise to those of us who thought we knew the directors taste.
The banter between Abril and Banderas is, at moments gloriously comic, once again recalling the Hollywood of old. But it’s the film’s headlong narrative intensity and the inspired camera work that really grabbed me; inspired filmmaking.
Almodovar took different tacks with the next several films, and audience response was mixed. By this time the writer/director had earned the right, both artistically and economically, to experiment with story structure and tone. In both “High Heels,” (also with Abril) and “Flower of My Secret,” he seems to be developing his own style of melodrama, a freewheeling blend of the serious and the playful, with a pinch of camp.
These elements would seem to clash, but Almodovar eventually found a formula that made them cohere. As a storyteller he wants us to be fully invested as his characters. And he wants us to respect a broad spectrum of sexual orientation. But he also reserves the right to leaven his brew with rude humor and humorous digressions that may not, at first, seem to fit to his stories.
From 1991 to 1997 Almodovar remained a presence on the international scene, but rarely held the spotlight. Then he ignited. Three out of his next four films “All About My Mother, “Talk To Her,” and “Volver” took festivals, critics, and international audiences by storm, leaving no doubt that he’s mastered his craft.
In retrospect, what general observations can we make of his prodigious body of work? Here’s a short list.
He’s wild for color, music, and outsized characters. He’s equally empathic to gay and straight culture, and effortlessly integrates the two. Each of his films features a sequence or two with startling visual impact; if you were to assemble them on one reel they would rival the inventions of any film maker working today. Although his films are stuffed with dialogue, sometimes a little too stuffed, he composes each scene for the camera. The stories take unpredictable twists and turns, but somehow come to endings that make emotional sense. And that’s a short list.
On to “Broken Embraces.”
Harry Caine, an aging screenwriter who lives and works in Madrid, remains a wily seducer of young women, in spite of the blindness that limits his mobility. One day he receives news that a wealthy industrialist is dead. When an assistant opens a desk drawer we see a photo of a beautiful woman. Right away we know that the three are linked. Also, that a young gay man, who comes to Harry for help in writing a screenplay, may be linked to them.
Penelope Cruz is the young woman, and after resisting the impulse to talk about her, Harry begins to tell the assistant about his past, in which she plays an integral part. Thus begins a winding, busy tale of love, jealousy and the challenges of filmmaking, (which might as well be any art form.)
A lot of the story deals with Harry’s attempt to direct a comedy, his first, after a series of dramas. The several scenes from the comedy are taken from “Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown.” Except that in “Women” they were played by Carmen Maura. Here they’re played with Cruz.
We see how difficult it is for Harry and his team to make something funny under adverse circumstances. One of those circumstances is Harry’s affair with his lead actress, who is also his financier’s mistress. While this may sound familiar, Almodovar brings his own sensibility to it. And though you don’t need to have seen “Women” to get the impact, familiarity with that movie enhances your enjoyment of this one.
Cruz’ beauty is now in full flower, and Almodovar’s camera adores her. She’s taken supporting roles in three, (unless I’m mistaken) of his prior films, but here she’s the movie’s luminous center. Playing an aspiring actress, untalented at first, but later vividly alive in front of a camera, she’s simply magnetic.
Cruz has the sort of control over her on screen sexuality that very few actresses with her physical gifts have developed. She can turn it on full volume or quietly tuck it away. It serves her well in this multifaceted role, because it calls on her to hit a variety of notes and hit them hard.
I had heard complaints that the script was complex and puzzling. While it moves freely between the present and the past, I didn’t find the transitions a challenge; they struck me as smooth and well calculated. But the six leading characters are developed with similar weight, to the point where they compete with the plot for our attention. You may wonder why the script goes on at such length about them, but each is compelling, especially as the story comes to its deeply heartfelt conclusion.
Rodrigo Prieto’s camera work is so drenched in color it almost jumps off the screen. The color schemes, especially the reds, contribute dramatic statements of their own. A sequence on a beach is striking not just for its strange beauty, but for the way it foreshadows the fate of two lovers who seek its refuge. Great stuff.
Alberto Iglesias, who has scored over and over for Almodovar, delivers music that complements the suspense at exactly the right moments.
The other actors, although subordinate to Cruz, are equal to the script’s many challenges. Their task is made all the more difficult by its frequent moments of incongruous humor, one of Almodovar’s signature touches. Blanca Portillo, as Judit, Harry’s long suffering manager, is especially effective in a role that requires a delicate balance of different moods. Notice how subtly she ages from past to present.
There’s so much going on in “Broken Embraces” that I’m sure viewers will come away from it with a host of different impressions. And images that linger in the mind. It’s an adult movie of rare pleasures, written and directed by a man endlessly curious about life and love.
A final note: This movie, now playing in Philadelphia, is more than worth the trip, It’s an odds on favorite for this year’s Golden Globe, although it may lose to a worthy competitor, “The White Ribbon,” which I’ll talk about in another piece.
