Talk
to Her (2002)
(AKA Hable con ella)
Note: Sorry,
some spoilers.
Even more accessible than his last
film, "All About My Mother," Pedro Almodovar's latest
film is still wildly interesting and unusual. His
characters may be a bit more subtle and his cinematics
much more muted but his story is perhaps the most
odd of his odd lot. Still, this is one of the most
well-crafted scripts to see the light of a projector
this year.
"Talk to Her," like "All About My
Mother" is an ode to womanhood. Almodovar's love of
the female, for their beauty as much as their intelligence
and their enigmatic qualities, is the key to his two
latest films. Here, a effeminate male nurse spends
all his time caring for females. After his mother
dies, he shifts his focus to that of a young dancer.
When she becomes comatose after an accident, he takes
a job at the hospital where she is kept so that he
can be near her. Meanwhile, another male, far more
masculine, falls in love with a rather butch female
bullfighter. Eventually these two storylines collide.
And I've already said too much.
But I want to discuss what Almodovar does here. And
to do that, I've got to talk about the story. Because
story is paramount here. Where Almodovar has always
been concerned with story, it becomes his true focus
here more than in any of his other films.
How these two men obsess about women
is the focus. One of the things the film does that
is so amazing is that it presents a character that,
in any other film, would be considered demented and
pathetic and makes us totally fall in love with him.
When Benigno begins to unfurl his story of adoration
for the comatose Alicia, he quickly wins us over to
his side. Almodovar and actor Javier Camara (as Benigno)
take great care in showing us how devoted and focused
on Alicia's body Benigno is by bringing us numerous
physical moments as he cares for her vegetative body.
This seemingly constant kinetic ritual of physical
therapy is as meditative and as loving as Almodovar's
dialogue. It soothes us as the viewer and as easily
mesmerizes us as the story that Benigno tells does.
The physical bodies of the women
here are as important as their mysterious nature and
Almodovar creates several cinematic moments to reinforce
this notion. In addition to the numerous physical
moments between Benigno and the supple Alicia, there
are several other moments to consider. For example,
the art of dance is extremely important to the film.
It, in fact, begins at a modern dance theater performance.
(Almodovar begins first by bringing up a CGI curtain
to remind us that this is theater we are seeing -
a reflection of reality - not a representation of
it). The way women use their bodies in dance here
reflects the control, composure and inner-strength
that they maintain, even if the dance itself seems
to be about confusion and dementia. There is also
an extended look at a woman becoming dressed for a
bullfighting performance. It may be odd that this
is for a bullfight, a sport typically dominated by
men, and therefore the woman is putting on male drag,
but the intent here is to show the classical lines
and the staunch perfectionism that women often maintain
while also bucking tradition and, in the same breath,
honoring tradition.
But the most glaring and brilliantly
odd way that the female form is honored is in a visual
yet metaphoric look at the most intimate of their
physical attributes, the vagina. I say metaphoric
because Almodovar uses this segment of the film as
a metaphor. Yet the representation we get here could
barely be more reality based. I don't want to spoil
this amazing moment in the film for you (although,
I'm sure, others will). Suffice it to say that when
a man enters the most sacred realms of femininity
in the film, it is then that the film's climax begins.
The acting here is simply exquisite.
What Javier Camara does is simply wonderful. He is
not your classical movie star and his slightly off-kilter
characterization and appearance combined with his
immense acting talent brings forth a protagonist that
we truly care about. Meanwhile Dario Grandinetti presents
a more typical male and a more masculine counterpart
to Camara. Grandinetti should be lauded not only for
his great acting but for his boldness in bringing
forth a character that truly learns to love. The relationship
between these two men and how it relates to women
becomes precisely what the film is all about. And
the thespian daring these two do evoke such a powerfully
dramatic element, that the film is nothing short of
masterful. It is immensely important to remember as
well that it is these two males' love of women which
brings them together and allows them to relate to
one and other so strongly.
And his use of music here. Wow!
What amazing moments. The romantic and haunting ballad
sung on screen (by Caetano Veloso, I believe) midway
through the film is so powerful as to cause the audience
to weep. It is simply stunning. This 2 or 3 minute
segment alone makes the film worth the price of admission.
But there is so much more worthwhile in this film.
Almodovar has so many wonderful
things going on in this film, a writer could fill
10 movie reviews. His film may not be cinematically
as quirky as his earlier work and his characters more
seemingly stable but that doesn't make him appear
reigned-in nor a sell-out. It makes him appear even
more masterful.
Almodovar is, without a doubt, the
most powerful and exceptional voice working in Spanish
cinema today, perhaps in all of cinema. "Talk to Her"
is simply yet another proof of this fact. It is as
visionary as its maker.
Note:
Also with Geraldine Chaplin, Rosario
Flores, Malou Airadou, Pina Bausch, Leonore Watling,
and Paz Vega.
Producer Agustin Almodovar has a
cameo as the priest in the wedding scene.
Score by Alberto Iglesias.
Viewed at a press screening in December
2002 on a Saturday morning at 9:30am! This was at
the Dobie in Austin. Sony wanted the press in Austin
to be able to see the film before it opened there
so it could be considered for their year end "Best
Lists." There were several press members in attendance
including Martin from the "Reel Deal" and Marjorie
Baumgarten from "The Austin Chronicle."
