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Still thinking about Broken Embraces
Jan. 13th, 2010 08:59 amYesterday I read Cynthia Fuchs' review of Broken Embraces at PopMatters, which focuses on Penelope Cruz and the character she plays in the movie, Lena. "Her inauthenticity is the point: Lena represents cinema, illusion, some classic sort of femininity—endlessly consumable, only briefly possessed." I'd certainly agree that Lena represents a kind of artificial feminine ideal that the men around her desire and can never really possess. Lena is an almost ghostly figure in the movie. She does not exist in the the now of the story, only in flashbacks and in footage of the film-within-the-film. However, the thing that struck me about Fuchs' review, as I pondered the way the movie portrays women, is that she only mentions in passing the other major female character, Judit, played by Blanco Portillo. Yet Judit is perhaps the key figure in the movie, or at least the second pivot, along with Lena, around whom Mateo's life revolves.
In the narrative ecology of Broken Embraces, Judit's role is the unrequited best pal of the lead male. She's like Midge in Vertigo (1958), who grounds the romantically-obsessed Scottie, or perhaps even more like the Eve Arden character in My Dream Is Yours (1949), who is also a business partner with Jack Carson, who only has eyes for Doris Day. Judit is portrayed as plain-looking and slightly masculine, in contrast to the the luscious, hyper-feminine Lena. She clearly holds a long-time flame for Mateo, yet she's almost designed to be overlooked. What's interesting about Judit, once you start thinking about her, is that she's in many ways the most powerful character in the story. She runs the business side of things for Mateo, for one thing. He's completely dependent on her. We see her at work, negotiating with an American production company. She brings home the bacon. More than that, even, she has managed to form a kind of domestic partnership with Mateo despite his lack of romantic or sexual interest in her. His heart may belong to Lena, but his life belongs to Judit and her son Diego. One of the sweetest things about the movie, in fact, is the relationship between Mateo and Diego, who have formed a kind of father-son relationship over the years. Judit has become a de facto wife, albeit one who has to suffer through Mateo's affairs with other women.
I can't say much more without getting into major spoilers, but Judit is in many ways the hidden catalyst and powerbroker of the film, whom we become blinded to (like Mateo) because of Lena's (and Penelope Cruz's) sexual glamor.
In the narrative ecology of Broken Embraces, Judit's role is the unrequited best pal of the lead male. She's like Midge in Vertigo (1958), who grounds the romantically-obsessed Scottie, or perhaps even more like the Eve Arden character in My Dream Is Yours (1949), who is also a business partner with Jack Carson, who only has eyes for Doris Day. Judit is portrayed as plain-looking and slightly masculine, in contrast to the the luscious, hyper-feminine Lena. She clearly holds a long-time flame for Mateo, yet she's almost designed to be overlooked. What's interesting about Judit, once you start thinking about her, is that she's in many ways the most powerful character in the story. She runs the business side of things for Mateo, for one thing. He's completely dependent on her. We see her at work, negotiating with an American production company. She brings home the bacon. More than that, even, she has managed to form a kind of domestic partnership with Mateo despite his lack of romantic or sexual interest in her. His heart may belong to Lena, but his life belongs to Judit and her son Diego. One of the sweetest things about the movie, in fact, is the relationship between Mateo and Diego, who have formed a kind of father-son relationship over the years. Judit has become a de facto wife, albeit one who has to suffer through Mateo's affairs with other women.
I can't say much more without getting into major spoilers, but Judit is in many ways the hidden catalyst and powerbroker of the film, whom we become blinded to (like Mateo) because of Lena's (and Penelope Cruz's) sexual glamor.
Image of the Night
Jan. 11th, 2010 09:17 pm
Law of Desire (La ley del deseo, 1987)
“What interests me most is passion for its own sake,” Almodóvar told Nuria Vidal in 1988. “It is a force you cannot control, which is stronger than you and which is as much a source of pain as of pleasure. In any case, it is so strong that it makes you do things which are truly monstrous or absolutely extraordinary”. --Pedro Almodóvar 101
Almodóvar mini-binge
Jan. 10th, 2010 10:49 amSince seeing Almodóvar's new movie, Broken Embraces on New Year's Day, I've gone on a mini-binge of his movies. First up with Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios, 1988), because it is explicitly referenced in the new movie, which is in part about the making of a movie called Girls and Suitcases that seems to be a variant on Almodóvar's own seventh feature. I wanted to see how the original was different. Although it was Almodóvar's break-out international hit, I've never been particularly fond of it myself. This time, however, I found it wonderfully absurd and warm-hearted. Of all things, I found myself identifying with Carmen Maura's Pepa, who has been abandoned by her lover, Ivan, for another woman (and who is herself the Other Woman for Ivan's wife), and who yearns for his return even though she knows he's weak and undependable. There's a little bit of The Man I Love in this story too, as she solves the problems of her desperate friends while reeling from blows to her own heart. It's a candy-colored farce and a plangent melodrama at the same time -- an Almodóvar specialty that I've called screwball soap opera in the past.
Next up was Matador (1986), which is perhaps Almodóvar's masterpiece of amour fou and love-death, although coming to it from his later work, the low budget is very noticeable. The central metaphor is the bullfight -- a sport in which the aesthetic climax is the matador's killing of the bull. This metaphor is explored in sexual terms from various angles, and at it's core this is the love story of two death-obsessed people. The sex is nearly pornographic. Almodóvar is still in bad boy mode at this early point in his career. Some of the provocations are so tangled it's hard to know whether to laugh or cringe, as in an attempted rape that ends shamefully in a premature ejaculation. Antonio Banderas plays a sensitive boy, dominated by his hyper-religious mother, who is apparently psychic. Again, the absurdities and coincidences pile up madly until they tip over into catharsis. (See my previous post for some images from the movie.)
These two movies form something of a trilogy with The Law of Desire (La ley del deseo, 1987), which I want to watch next, but in the meantime I went back and saw Broken Embraces for a second time. I came away from my first viewing pretty sure that the movie would have a different impact the second time around, with the final revelations in mind, and it was true. As I said to Ron in e-mail, I think this movie and Volver (2006) may represent a new stage for Almodóvar, in which he masters the slow build. There's a lot going on in these films that initially seems unrelated, but over time everything connects and grows and becomes transparent. There's no longer that sense of absurdity and farcical artificiality of his early films. Broken Embraces is a deeply melancholy film that on one level is about the loss of the love of your life, but it's also about the complicated wellsprings of creativity and about art as a response to life, love, and loss. At this point it may qualify as my favorite film of 2009, although I haven't caught up with everything I want to see from 2009 yet, let alone the things I don't know I want to see.
Next up was Matador (1986), which is perhaps Almodóvar's masterpiece of amour fou and love-death, although coming to it from his later work, the low budget is very noticeable. The central metaphor is the bullfight -- a sport in which the aesthetic climax is the matador's killing of the bull. This metaphor is explored in sexual terms from various angles, and at it's core this is the love story of two death-obsessed people. The sex is nearly pornographic. Almodóvar is still in bad boy mode at this early point in his career. Some of the provocations are so tangled it's hard to know whether to laugh or cringe, as in an attempted rape that ends shamefully in a premature ejaculation. Antonio Banderas plays a sensitive boy, dominated by his hyper-religious mother, who is apparently psychic. Again, the absurdities and coincidences pile up madly until they tip over into catharsis. (See my previous post for some images from the movie.)
These two movies form something of a trilogy with The Law of Desire (La ley del deseo, 1987), which I want to watch next, but in the meantime I went back and saw Broken Embraces for a second time. I came away from my first viewing pretty sure that the movie would have a different impact the second time around, with the final revelations in mind, and it was true. As I said to Ron in e-mail, I think this movie and Volver (2006) may represent a new stage for Almodóvar, in which he masters the slow build. There's a lot going on in these films that initially seems unrelated, but over time everything connects and grows and becomes transparent. There's no longer that sense of absurdity and farcical artificiality of his early films. Broken Embraces is a deeply melancholy film that on one level is about the loss of the love of your life, but it's also about the complicated wellsprings of creativity and about art as a response to life, love, and loss. At this point it may qualify as my favorite film of 2009, although I haven't caught up with everything I want to see from 2009 yet, let alone the things I don't know I want to see.
Haven't had much time for LiveJournal or Facebook the past few days, so I'm sorry if I missed anything important. I've been having fun hanging out with Ron. On Friday, after the UO's horrific loss to Ohio State in the Rose Bowl, we picked up ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
holyoutlaw and went to Almodovar's newest movie, Broken Embraces. It's a complicated, self-reflective movie, and I need to see it again to see how it plays with the final revelations in mind. (Perfect last line, BTW.) What I took away from a first viewing was a sense of nested identities and pseudonyms that are matched by nested histories and stories of the past, some revealed and some still hidden. Almodovar refracts himself through at least two characters and also refracts some of his past films, most prominently or directly Women on the Edge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988). It's very much a movie about the creative process, and the relationship of art to life and love. It's very much a writer's movie, too, and I loved all the little stories that are thrown off as what John Crowley has called snake's hands. And Almodovar still has an amazing way with color. Plum, tangerine, coral, and aquamarine. Lovely and subtle and pure.
After the movie we retired to Bill's Off Broadway for pizza and beer and yikkety-yack about the movie and the whole wide world and the brave new people in it. There was a happy new year vibe going on, for sure.
Yesterday I took Ron to Roxy's for breakfast, and later we caught Avatar in 2D at the Cinerama. (All the 3D shows at the Pacific Science Center were sold out for the weekend.) I enjoyed it as a visual spectacle, and I'm not sure I have much to add to the ongoing discussion. I got swept up in it despite the fact that I really didn't like the depiction of the aliens. I still think the aliens in District 9 are the most alien aliens of the year. The ones in Avatar are simply too humanoid in their culture. Still, as an old Yes fan there wasn't much chance that I could resist the floating mountains with waterfalls turning to mist in mid-air. Some truly beautiful sensawunda vistas in the film, stuff we have never seen on film before. I could have done without the noble savagery, however. Very romantic on any number of different levels. I might still try to catch it in IMAX 3D. I recommenddaveon's attempt to retcon the backstory. I guess I should add that at least on a conceptual or sociological level, I enjoyed the broad jab at American jingoists, even though I think it's fatally undercut by the noble savagery. Another form of mass, populist spectacle, really.
Afterward we visited old acquaintances Jon and Penny on top of Queen Anne. We had dinner at Thai Heaven, getting caught up on the three years since we last saw them, last time Ron was here. It was great to hang out with them. Really wonderful people, in their completely diametrical ways, always a blast to talk and laugh with. Salt of the earth living on top of the world.
Today Ron is off to his old church in Ballard, and later we're going to watch DVDs and eat pizza and drink beer. Or that's the theory anyway. Ron is trying to squeeze in visitation with lots of other people, so who knows how much time we'll have for movies. I need to do some laundry, and oh yeah, take Denys to the airport. He's off to California to visit his sister for a few days. Then it's back to work tomorrow. Can't be friends and films all day every day, alas.
holyoutlaw and went to Almodovar's newest movie, Broken Embraces. It's a complicated, self-reflective movie, and I need to see it again to see how it plays with the final revelations in mind. (Perfect last line, BTW.) What I took away from a first viewing was a sense of nested identities and pseudonyms that are matched by nested histories and stories of the past, some revealed and some still hidden. Almodovar refracts himself through at least two characters and also refracts some of his past films, most prominently or directly Women on the Edge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988). It's very much a movie about the creative process, and the relationship of art to life and love. It's very much a writer's movie, too, and I loved all the little stories that are thrown off as what John Crowley has called snake's hands. And Almodovar still has an amazing way with color. Plum, tangerine, coral, and aquamarine. Lovely and subtle and pure.After the movie we retired to Bill's Off Broadway for pizza and beer and yikkety-yack about the movie and the whole wide world and the brave new people in it. There was a happy new year vibe going on, for sure.
Yesterday I took Ron to Roxy's for breakfast, and later we caught Avatar in 2D at the Cinerama. (All the 3D shows at the Pacific Science Center were sold out for the weekend.) I enjoyed it as a visual spectacle, and I'm not sure I have much to add to the ongoing discussion. I got swept up in it despite the fact that I really didn't like the depiction of the aliens. I still think the aliens in District 9 are the most alien aliens of the year. The ones in Avatar are simply too humanoid in their culture. Still, as an old Yes fan there wasn't much chance that I could resist the floating mountains with waterfalls turning to mist in mid-air. Some truly beautiful sensawunda vistas in the film, stuff we have never seen on film before. I could have done without the noble savagery, however. Very romantic on any number of different levels. I might still try to catch it in IMAX 3D. I recommend
daveon's attempt to retcon the backstory. I guess I should add that at least on a conceptual or sociological level, I enjoyed the broad jab at American jingoists, even though I think it's fatally undercut by the noble savagery. Another form of mass, populist spectacle, really.Afterward we visited old acquaintances Jon and Penny on top of Queen Anne. We had dinner at Thai Heaven, getting caught up on the three years since we last saw them, last time Ron was here. It was great to hang out with them. Really wonderful people, in their completely diametrical ways, always a blast to talk and laugh with. Salt of the earth living on top of the world.
Today Ron is off to his old church in Ballard, and later we're going to watch DVDs and eat pizza and drink beer. Or that's the theory anyway. Ron is trying to squeeze in visitation with lots of other people, so who knows how much time we'll have for movies. I need to do some laundry, and oh yeah, take Denys to the airport. He's off to California to visit his sister for a few days. Then it's back to work tomorrow. Can't be friends and films all day every day, alas.
Broken Embraces (Los abrazos rotos, 2009)
Jan. 2nd, 2010 12:15 pmNow I understand e_compass_rosa's enigmatic quotation on Facebook the other day.
e_compass_rosa's enigmatic quotation on Facebook the other day.Words and Guitar
Feb. 20th, 2007 10:26 amI watched three movies over the three-day weekend: Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988), Johnny Guitar (1954), and Duel in the Sun (1946). I watched Johnny Guitar three times. What a brilliantly crazy movie! And I've just now realized that Almodovar is a link between these three movies. In Matador, we see the brilliantly crazy love-death ending of Duel in the Sun. In Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, our heroine is a voice actress working on a Spanish dub of Johnny Guitar. The scene we see her dub is this one:
Johnny: How many men have you forgotten?
Vienna: As many women as you've remembered.
Johnny: Don't go away.
Vienna: I haven't moved.
Johnny: Tell me something nice.
Vienna: Sure. What do you want to hear?
Johnny: Lie to me. Tell me all these years you've waited...
Vienna: All these years I've waited.
Johnny: Tell me you'd have died if I hadn't come back.
Vienna: I would have died if you hadn't come back.
Johnny: Tell me you still love me like I love you.
Vienna: I still love you like you love me.
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown would be a pretty good name for Johnny Guitar, too. Who was it that told me that Mercedes McCambridge's Emma sounds like Rocky the Flying Squirrel in this movie? A maniacal, murderous Rocky, which makes it even more surreal. I love Nicholas Ray's In a Lonely Place too, but Johnny Guitar just became my favorite of his movies.
Johnny: How many men have you forgotten?
Vienna: As many women as you've remembered.
Johnny: Don't go away.
Vienna: I haven't moved.
Johnny: Tell me something nice.
Vienna: Sure. What do you want to hear?
Johnny: Lie to me. Tell me all these years you've waited...
Vienna: All these years I've waited.
Johnny: Tell me you'd have died if I hadn't come back.
Vienna: I would have died if you hadn't come back.
Johnny: Tell me you still love me like I love you.
Vienna: I still love you like you love me.
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown would be a pretty good name for Johnny Guitar, too. Who was it that told me that Mercedes McCambridge's Emma sounds like Rocky the Flying Squirrel in this movie? A maniacal, murderous Rocky, which makes it even more surreal. I love Nicholas Ray's In a Lonely Place too, but Johnny Guitar just became my favorite of his movies.
Progress report
Feb. 5th, 2007 10:49 amSo I once again spent much of my productive time this weekend working on my fanzine for Corflu. I'm pretty close to done with it, I think. Just need to look it over one more time with fresh eyes this evening and then see about converting it to PDF for sending to the printshop. By the way, I'm not planning on distributing this to people on my Friends list, except for those who come to Corflu and a few others who have a particular interest. I figure most of you have seen the material here already, so you don't need to see it again. However, if you'd really like a copy, send me a poctsarcd, drop me a line, stating point of view, indicate precisely where you want it sent, yours sincerely, you know what I meant.
Other than pubbing my ish, I also watched a couple of older Almodóvar movies I hadn't seen before, Matador (1986) and Law of Desire (1987). It's easy to see why some old time Almodóvar fans think he's gotten more genteel in his later career (although I think he's just gotten more subtle, while remaining just as perverse). Both of these movies are extremely erotic, and Matador in particular is practically pornographic. (The version included in the Viva Pedro collection is in fact rated NC-17.) Both movies explore (or exploit) the connection between sex and death in a very striking fashion. Both feature a hunky Antonio Banderas playing a creepy but sympathetic stalker type, which is a type that Almodóvar seems almost obsessed with. I'm now very curious to see Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988) again, because I remember it as being much more of a farce than these two immediate predecessors are, although they both have comedic aspects as well.
I also watched the Super Bowl. Ho-hum. But that Snickers commercial was almost Almodóvarian, come to think of it.
Other than pubbing my ish, I also watched a couple of older Almodóvar movies I hadn't seen before, Matador (1986) and Law of Desire (1987). It's easy to see why some old time Almodóvar fans think he's gotten more genteel in his later career (although I think he's just gotten more subtle, while remaining just as perverse). Both of these movies are extremely erotic, and Matador in particular is practically pornographic. (The version included in the Viva Pedro collection is in fact rated NC-17.) Both movies explore (or exploit) the connection between sex and death in a very striking fashion. Both feature a hunky Antonio Banderas playing a creepy but sympathetic stalker type, which is a type that Almodóvar seems almost obsessed with. I'm now very curious to see Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988) again, because I remember it as being much more of a farce than these two immediate predecessors are, although they both have comedic aspects as well.
I also watched the Super Bowl. Ho-hum. But that Snickers commercial was almost Almodóvarian, come to think of it.
Steven Shapiro on Almodóvar
Jan. 3rd, 2007 12:33 amIn a review of Bad Education, Steven Shaviro has a great insight into what makes Almodóvar tick:
But then, one of the great things about Almodovar is that he has never made any distinction between gay and straight passions/relationships: all of them are equally queer, all equally delirious and obsessive. This is what’s utopian about his movies. It’s remarkable how he can create this sort of equality, even as all the passions he depicts are intransitive, i.e. not reciprocal, not fully reciprocated. Almodovar is fully aware of the power relations that flow from different privileges of gender and sexuality; it’s not by ignoring these, but precisely through them, that he creates sympathy for the madly-in-love obsessives who populate his films.
I watched Talk to Her for the third time last night, and its portrayal of the amour fou of a strangely innocent, virginal stalker mama's boy for a comatose woman leaves me helpless for words. Confused gender identity and intransitive desire ain't half of it.
But then, one of the great things about Almodovar is that he has never made any distinction between gay and straight passions/relationships: all of them are equally queer, all equally delirious and obsessive. This is what’s utopian about his movies. It’s remarkable how he can create this sort of equality, even as all the passions he depicts are intransitive, i.e. not reciprocal, not fully reciprocated. Almodovar is fully aware of the power relations that flow from different privileges of gender and sexuality; it’s not by ignoring these, but precisely through them, that he creates sympathy for the madly-in-love obsessives who populate his films.
I watched Talk to Her for the third time last night, and its portrayal of the amour fou of a strangely innocent, virginal stalker mama's boy for a comatose woman leaves me helpless for words. Confused gender identity and intransitive desire ain't half of it.
Screwball melodrama
Dec. 20th, 2006 05:33 pmIn "An Intimate Interview with Pedro Almodóvar" -- one of the extras on the DVD of All About My Mother (Todo sobre mi madre, 1999) -- Almodóvar uses the phrase "screwball drama" to describe the movies in his latest, more serious phase, which began with The Flower of My Secret (La flor de mi secreto, 1995). That's a great phrase, but I like "screwball melodrama" even better, because it gets at the artificiality and extremity of the stories. These are soap operas with all their atrocious coincidences and flamboyant, glamorous suffering grounded in an enormous earthy compassion and loving satire. This is soap opera played for hilarious laughs, except you're still crying simultaneously. Unlikely trauma is piled on top of unimaginable loss on top of unbearable (and perversely funny) humiliation, and the emotional effect is so dizzying that you just have to give yourself up to it. Laughing and crying, it's all release, and afterward you feel like maybe you don't have it so bad after all.
Maybe "screwball soap opera" is an even better phrase.
Maybe "screwball soap opera" is an even better phrase.
Twin peaks (eastern-style)
Dec. 5th, 2006 10:25 pmIt took gerisullivan and me approximately three-and-a-half days to print Science-Fiction Five-Yearly 12, starting with several sides printed on the color inkjet at her house, Toad Woods (which was built in 1973, of course), on the Sunday evening and Monday morning after Thanksgiving. We were still printing (and Geri was still laying out) the final pages as the collation started in the NESFA clubhouse in Boston Wednesday night, with most of the final sides printed on the new color laser printer that Geri bought from our hostess with the mostest, debgeisler. In between these bookends, I printed side after side on Mr. Gestetner, aka Mr. G, the NESFA mimeo copy-printer, which is not in fact a Gestetner at all.
( Reproducing SF5Y and hitting the Big Apple ... )
gerisullivan and me approximately three-and-a-half days to print Science-Fiction Five-Yearly 12, starting with several sides printed on the color inkjet at her house, Toad Woods (which was built in 1973, of course), on the Sunday evening and Monday morning after Thanksgiving. We were still printing (and Geri was still laying out) the final pages as the collation started in the NESFA clubhouse in Boston Wednesday night, with most of the final sides printed on the new color laser printer that Geri bought from our hostess with the mostest, debgeisler. In between these bookends, I printed side after side on Mr. Gestetner, aka Mr. G, the NESFA mimeo copy-printer, which is not in fact a Gestetner at all.( Reproducing SF5Y and hitting the Big Apple ... )
