Almodóvar: Take 1

I caught a double dip of Pedro Almodóvar yesterday.


Gotta love little indie theaters. What better way to spend a cold, drizzly Sunday afternoon while your wife is at a women-only holiday ornament party. (Not that any man would ever want to go to what - as Amy and her friends have described the event over the years - is such a hen party.)

So for less than 10 bucks, I got to see two great, hard-to-find movies, had some popcorn, a Dr Pepper and a pack of Twizzlers.

First, was the Oscar-nominated "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown," from 1988.


The synopsis, from IMDB: "A woman's lover leaves her, and she tries to contact him to find out why he's left. She confronts his wife and son, who are as clueless as she. Meanwhile her girlfriend is afraid the police are looking for her because of her boyfriend's criminal activities. They talk to a female lawyer, who turns out to be the lover's new lover, and everyone's path keeps crossing each other's in a very complicated and confusing manner."

It's one of his better comedies, with some absurd but hilarious events - like everyone, including two cops investigating a potential airline hijacking, drinking barbiturate-spiked gazpacho and passing out, allowing the final scene to unfold.

Almodóvar is known for making movies with strong women characters (be they actual women or drag queens). So this, perhaps the best bit of dialog, got at one of his recurrent themes:

Ana, as her boyfriend races around the city with a mad woman on the back of his Harley, says: "I'm fed up. I'm gonna get myself some quick cash, buy myself his bike and split. With a bike, who needs a man?"

To which Pepa, our protagonist, responds: "Learning mechanics is easier than learning male psychology. You can figure out a bike, but you can never figure out a man."

Although Amy might agree, I tend to look at it from the other perspective. Either way, the point is clear. There are some things men and women will just never understand about each other. (For example, the desire to go to hen parties.)

After "Women on the Verge," I had a 15-minute intermission before the next one started. I'd seen "All About My Mother" before, but this Oscar-winner from 1999 is worth a second - or third - viewing.


The plot synopsis, again from IMDB: "A single mother in Madrid sees her only son die on his 17th birthday as he runs to seek an actress's autograph. She goes to Barcelona to find the lad's father, a transvestite named Lola who does not know he has a child. First she finds her friend, Agrado, also a transvestite; through him she meets Rosa, a young nun bound for El Salvador, and by happenstance, becomes the personal assistant of Huma Rojo, the actress her son admired. She helps Huma manage Nina, the co-star and Huma's lover, and she becomes Rosa's caretaker during a dicey pregnancy. With echoes of Lorca, 'All About Eve,' and 'Streetcar Named Desire,' the mothers (and fathers and actors) live out grief, love, and friendship."

Certainly, not the sort of film I'd imagine got much screen time back in my hometown. And while the transvestites might make a few folks I know a little squeamish, that's part of the power of so much of Almodóvar's work. He's ever provocative, challenging everything from sexual politics to gender roles to the Catholic Church and then some. But beyond that, and beyond the stunningly good and unconventional storytelling and the powerful, vibrant visuals, he's one of today's greatest filmmakers because he expands the audience's view of society. He takes characters who are marginalized in daily life and thrusts them into the spotlight, defying expectations, and making it impossible not to identify and empathize with them.

Next weekend, I'm going back for two others I haven't seen: "Law of Desire" and "Matador."