2011. Dir: Pedro Almodóvar. Starring: Antonio Banderas, Elena Anaya, Jan Cornet, Marisa Paredes and Blanca Suárez. ●●●●○
What is horror? Random House Dictionary defines it as "an overwhelming and painful feeling caused by something frightfully shocking, terrifying, or revolting; a shuddering fear", and that rigid explanation helps to conjure up the typical horror film audience, spellbound, dumbstruck, petrified in their seats. Desperate to dry out and defend the lonely teenager however transfixed by the seductive power of the knife-wielding, supernatural maniac.
The rules of the genre, as typified in the self-parodying chatter of the Scream franchise, are deceptively simple; open to reinterpretation, sure, but constant in their structure. It's therefore surprising that more established auteurish directors don't dip their toes, turning to genre exercises to stretch their skills in the way that Pedro Almodóvar does with The Skin I Live In.
Perhaps it's just a snobbish contempt for the form, after all many low-budget indies use tired horror cliches and over-egged metaphors and any idiot with a jump-cut can effectively startle an audience. Personally I expect it's more complex, there's a fear of making horror endemic in cinematic circles, there's a sweat inducing terror because making an effective chiller is a Herculean task. In our post-Gorno world where every sick fantasy imaginable has been seen audiences seem to need something extra to bring them to the edges of their seat (of course in reality it's the slow creep of dread that's always worked best for scaring crowds and that has nothing to do with the buckets of blood). It's a shame as Pedro here proves there's plenty of life in horror yet.
It's true to say Almodóvar has created a horror movie, with snatches of obsession, guilt and Stockholm syndrome, as well as drawing on modern body horror and the Frankenstein legend, it's equally true the film doesn't overplay the graphic sexualisation of violence - that is not to say there is no blood just that it feels like a natural conclusion to the action not the point of it - and could therefore be watched by even the most squeamish of genre avoiders.
Explaining the plot is a tough nut to crack, you may have notice I've been putting it off, mainly because it's a dense tale full of the melodramatic familial connections and soap-style revelations that we've come to expect from Almodóvar. There are also twists upon twists and to say much will spoil the feelings you get from the movie as it washes over you (not that the twists are especially shocking, they even feel natural and obvious in the moment, but to let the cat out of the bag before will deny you the opportunity to find out the delicious truth at the right time). Suffice to say the movie opens in a large isolated Spanish mansion housing an obsessive skin doctor (Antonio Banderas), his over protective housekeeper (Marisa Paredes) and a mysterious catsuit-wearing patient, practising yoga in a locked room (Elena Anaya). You can see the Frankenstein connection already. Why is Banderas have an enormous TV screen in his bedroom just to watch Anaya sleep? Why does Anaya relate to the sculpture of Louise Bourgeois? Who is the tiger at the gate? Is Banderas more obsessed about his wife that cheated on him, his daughter who was raped or the connected suicides of them both?
Some, but not all, of these questions will be answered satisfactorily. Others will come and go, getting lost in the ridiculous lines "I have madness in my entrails" and lost subplots (the artificial skin Banderas has been perfecting for Anaya seems like just an excuse to let him interact with other scientists). That said both Banderas and Anaya do fantastic work, as does Jan Cornet in a minor role I won't spoil, there's a moment we laugh out loud at his predicament yet when a tear roles down his cheek the entire audience went silent.
Of course I found problems with this movie, Almodóvar can't help being himself. The frame is gorgeously vibrant and exciting, the action perfectly paced and gripping, but full of melodramatic meanderings that could have come from any number of his other pictures. Some of which aid the story, others have no business being there.
Overall I would highly recommend this picture to horror geeks and non-fans alike for the genre busting and interesting departures Almodóvar makes. But remember it is Almodóvar making those departures.
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
The Skin I Live In
Saturday, 8 May 2010
Film News (08/05/2010)
I can't say that I spent much of this week looking at the news, what with the election on my mind I have been somewhat preoccupied. These four stories did jump out at me though.
Peace, Love and Misunderstanding
When Jane Fonda came out of retirement in 2005 we all drew collective breaths in awe of her talent, and looked forward to the fantastic projects she would have needed to bring her out. Unfortunately she made the funny enough Monster-in-Law followed by the very pedestrian Georgia Rule. Hopefully her next film will be an improvement, even if it is a Georgia in reverse as workaholic conservative Catherine Keener goes back to her mother tree-hugging Fonda to recover from a messy divorce. Admittedly this synopsis sound like utter garbage - it goes on to say they find love in extraordinary places - but that sort of combined talent can't be ignored.
Read on for twitching, ghost stories and an extraordinary horse.
The Big Year
When this birdwatching comedy first came to my attention (through production news in March) I clearly stated that it may have one of the least interesting casts of all time with Steve Martin, Jack Black and Owen Wilson as competitive twichers. However since then there have been some developments with a supporting cast now in place including Anjelica Huston, Dianne Wiest, Rosamund Pike and Tim Blake Nelson. All of which is beginning to turn me. Still one to look out for. Like the guys on the left are doing.
The Skin I live in
Pedro Almodovar has annouced his next project, and it reunited him with his Tie Me Up, Tie me Down star Antonio Banderas. Strangely though, it's said to be a kind of horror movie, with Banderas playing a plastic surgeon who enacts a terrible revenge on his daughter's rapists - a more continental version of the Last House on the Left, if you will. Can't wait to see what Almovar does with a torture scene!
War Horse
You are fully entitled to take this story with a big pinch of salt, but apparently Steven Spielberg has decided his next film to direct will be the big screen adaptation of War Horse. (Not Interstellar or Pirates Latitude or Indiana Jones 5 or 39 Clues or Harvey or Matt Helm or the biopics of Abraham Lincoln or George Gershwin or Martin Luther King.) Adapted from the original children's story by Michael Morpurgo and not the hit play version which has a puppet horse (see below) the tale revolves around a pit pony that's sent to the front during the First World War. Expect Spielberg to try to make you cry.
Thursday, 3 September 2009
Broken Embraces
2009. Dir: Pedro Almodóvar. Starring: Penélope Cruz, Lluís Homar, Blanca Portillo, José Luis Gómez and Tamar Novas. ●●●●○
During August I went to the cinema twice, both times to my local independent cinema, both times to see auteur films from directors whose work I love, and both times the film was about the power of film, and how it could be used as a tool for revenge. Last week I railed about the lack of humanity in Tarantino's effort which, for me, was the rotten core in his film. This week Almodovar has proven that cinema is about redemption and love. Far closer to my thinking.
Los abrazos rotos (Broken Embraces) opens with the blind screen writer Harry Caine (Homar, superb) seducing a good samaritan. It's a funny and tounching scene - Caine is no adonis but his charisma overpowers the girl - with lots of passion. There isn't however a touch of romance, she quickly showers and leaves, he's back to work before she's finished. This act of love-making was perfunctory and purely a release.
During the aftermath the other modern day characters appear. Caine's agent (Portillo) and her son, his assistant, Diego (Novas). As these three establish their routines we are also treated to flashbacks of Cruz becoming the mistress of ruthless millionaire (Martel), who in the present time has recently died.
Ray X (Rubén Ochandiano), a mysterious first time director, comes to Caine to ask him to aid with writing a screenplay about a son taking revenge on his father. It is from this encounter and a somewhat ham-fisted accident for Diego, that Caine explains how the two stories we have seen are connected.
Ultimately Caine used to be the film director Mateo Blanco, whos last film starred Cruz. They met on set, fell in love (proper love with real sex and much touching after) and eloped when the filming was over. A car accident later took her life and his eyes.
I'm not sure the early flashbacks work, and would question whether we need to know Cruz only got into the relationship with Martel to save her father. The framing of Diego's accident to bring us back to the early 90's is ham-fisted but it would have been much more satisfactory if we had only seen Cruz in fragments of photo's and had no understanding of the characters prior to this.
All of the performances are superb, with the exception of Ochandiano who appears to be channelling Little Britain in the flashback scenes, but I'd expecially like to highlight the work of Blanco Portillo. She has a couple of scenes where she's basically relaying the plot to anyone not paying enough attention, as well as adding in some extra snippets of information. It's a relatively thankless task but she does it so well, balancing the humour and the depth of the moment. She also is able to show a massiv range of emotion in the beach scenes. Fantastic. I'll certainly be looking out for her in the future.
As with any of Almodovar's films the design is wonderfully detailed, and exquisitely coloured. The use of art in the homes of the protagonists is nicely counterbalanced. And Cruz is dressed beatifully. The red dress alone is a show stopper.
Overall I'd say that whilst it's not without it's problems (messy, some bizarre loose ends but many things which don't need to be explained which were) Almodovar once again makes a fantastic and moving picture.
POSTSCRIPT WITH SPOILERS
I just realised I never said why this was about the cinema and revenge. Well, after Homar and Cruz run away Martel bribes the editor to cut the film really badly and it then flops. At the end though Caine is completing a directors cut which will show once and for all how wonderful Cruz was as an actress.
