PARALLEL MOTHERS: moms and babies, mostly

Photo caption: Milena Smith, Penélope Cruz and Aitana Sánchez-Gijón in PARALLEL MOTHERS. Photo courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

In Parallel Mothers, Pedro Almodóvar gives a lush melodrama, sandwiched between bookended dives into today’s unhealed wounds from the Spanish Civil War.

Two women meet in a Madrid maternity ward, each about to give birth to her first child. Neither is in a relationship and neither pregnancy was planned, although the circumstances differ strongly. Both are haunted – one by a family tragedy and the other by her parents’ dysfunction.

Janis (Penélope Cruz) is in confident middle age, a fashion photographer. She is worldly and independent, with a support system led by her bestie (Almodóvar veteran Rossy de Palma).

Ana (Milena Smit) is a teenager tossed from her throw-up-his-hands father in Granada to her self-absorbed actress mother in Madrid.

Janis and Ana bond with their babies and with each other. It’s difficult to write about their story because there’s a Big Reveal which I will not spoil.

The story of mothers and babies makes for a compelling 100-minute or so movie on its own. But the film begins and ends with segments in which a war crime from the Spanish Civil War touches characters. When Spain suddenly transitioned from the Franco dictatorship to a democracy, the nation addressed accountability for the Civil War’s atrocities differently than did, say, South Africa or North Ireland, and Parallel Mothers is Almodóvar’s comment on the continuing wounds.

And here’s my quandary: although the characters overlap, I just don’t see the unity that Almodovar intends between the mom/baby story and the Civil War legacy story. Sorry, Pedro – this just looks like two different (good) movies cobbled together to me.

Penélope Cruz in PARALLEL MOTHERS. Photo courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

Penélope Cruz is entering her fourth decade of Big Screen luminosity. She remains one of the most compelling presences in cinema.

Milena Smit as excellent as the troubled and immature Ana, who grows and changes more than any character in Parallel Mothers. It’s an impressive breakthrough performance, and Smit bears watching.

Penélope Cruz had already made the American art house faves Jamón Jamón and Belle Epoque before she joined the Almodóvar repertory, but it’s worth reflecting on the Spanish actresses, like Smit, that Almodóvar has introduced us to: Carmen Maura, Victoria Abril, Marisa Paredes, Cecilia Roth, Rosario Flores, Assumpta Serna and Chus Lampreave. (Plus Antonio Banderas and Javier Cámara, as well!)

Aitana Sánchez-Gijón is very good as Ana’s mom, who is initially is reflexibly insufferable, but whose role becomes more complicated as we learn about her.

Israel Elejalde is excellent as the one significant male character. It’s always great to see Rossy de Palma, who is unchallenged by her role as sympathetic sidekick. Julieta Serrano, another Almodóvar favorite also appears.

After beginning his career with two decades of subversively hilarious comedies, Almodóvar has made some of the most profound work in recent cinema. Parallel Mothers is well-crafted and engaging, but doesn’t rank with Almodóvar’s best: Talk to Her, Bad Education, Broken Embraces.

PEPI, LUCI, BOM AND OTHER GIRLS LIKE MOM: early, ragged Almodóvar

A very young Pedro Almodóvar’s 1980 Pepi, Luci, Bom and Other Girls Like Mom. This is early Almodovar – zany and ribald, even transgressive. The filmmaking craft is very rough (and very low budget), but Almodóvar’s signature energy and vibrant colors are already there. Fun rock music sets the tone from the get go in the title credits.

The humor is outrageous, embracing that of the very first American gross-out comedies (The Groove Tube and The Kentucky Fried Movie) and taking a step (or a few) farther:

  • A penis-measuring contest as a party game;
  • The question of whether a cop’s wife can become a punk band’s groupie;
  • Panties that turn farts into perfume;
  • Cops baited into a narc raid on a plastic marijuana plant;
  • Perhaps the dirtiest pop pseudopunk song ever: I love you because you’re dirty; Filthy slutty and servile.

The protagonist starts out as the party girl Pepi, but the story evolves to center around Luci, the wife of a brutish cop. As Luci is debased by more and more characters, becoming a human piñata, it is revealed that she is a masochist who actually is attracted to and pleasured by the meanest behavior. [SPOILER: There’s even a Golden Shower early in this story thread.]

Viewing through today’s lens, the movie violence against women no longer works as comedy, even though the character who is debased is a masochist and the rape that spurs the revenge theme is clearly intended to be broadly comic.

This is Almodóvar having fun being naughty. His most profound work was still two decades in the future: Talk to Her, Bad Education, Broken Embraces.

I watched Pepi, Luci, Bom and Other Girls Like Mom on TCM, and you can stream it from Amazon, AppleTV, Vudu and YouTube.

PAIN AND GLORY: achingly personal

Antonio Banderas in PAIN AND GLORY

In his Pain and Glory, master filmmaker Pedro Almodovar invites us into the most personal aspects of his own life, illuminated by Antonio Banderas’ career-topping performance. Almodovar calls Pain and Glory “auto-fiction”, and Banderas’ central character is a filmmaker clearly modeled after Almodovar himself.

Although Almodovar is known for a fun personality and makes the most exuberant films, we learn that this filmmaker is shy and introverted. He is suffering privately from an assortment of maladies, most importantly with chronic back pain, migraine headaches and depression. Because of the chronic pain and the depression, he has isolated himself in his apartment, blocked from his work and avoiding all social engagement.

The restoration of an early film prods him into planning a public appearance with the film’s star, an actor that he has been estranged from for thirty years; that encounter plunges him into an entirely new strategy of pain management. Almodovar inserts vignettes from his childhood which illuminate his respect and adoration of women and his artistic and sexual awakenings. These flashbacks are brilliant.

Pain and Glory is as beautiful as any Almodovar film. The color palette is far less lushly vibrant than usual for Almodovar, but the more somber look is just as rich.

Banderas has never been better. His longtime close friendship with Almodovar clearly informed this searing performance, both with his close observation of his friend and because he cares for him. This performance will certainly earn Banderas an Oscar nomination.

Pain and Glory is an exquisite film. Some audiences may not want to invest in such a sometimes painful story, deliberately paced as it is. But those who settle in will be rewarded.

DVD Pick of the Week: Broken Embraces (Los Abrazos Rotos)

This is Pedro Almodovar’s brilliant, operatic romantic drama.  Penelope Cruz is once again Almodovar’s instrument, never more breathtaking.  With movies within the movie, it’s also homage to filmmaking itself.  And, it’s also a cinematic celebration of the color red – look for the color red in each scene.  This was my #4 movie of 2009 and my choice for best foreign language film.