02 Dec Talk to Her (2002)

The Manifold Fluidity of the Dance

When a film’s reason for being is to build layers, the opening shot must be a promise, an anchor in the shifting seas of perspective and a springboard for the narrative. In twenty seconds, I knew that this time Almodovar had spent more time on structure and less chasing intuitive sprites because of that opening shot. It is beautiful intelligent and rich, as many moments here are.

Life as a ballet, a bullfight, a film, a song, a mentored trip, a lesson, a therapy session, a killing of the snake, and care of the comatose – each of these referring to all and any of the others, most explicitly. The amazing thing to me is that nearly all these layers are developed lushly and without irony as if they each were the root, the generator, of the others. You probably already know this, as it is pretty obvious.

What’s more subtle is the relationship to other films in what is becoming a genre: poetic, sexually-motivated, magically co-created Spanish self-reference. Almodovar seems generous in his appreciation of films by others; after all having referenced layers that stop at the edge of a film is pretty arbitrary. I suppose there are many such leaps but the one I appreciated was to ‘Sex and Lucia’ which I think is the absolute best of this genre. Elena Anaya was the uber-Alice-in-Wonderland in that adventure featuring three ‘Alices.’ Here, she is the hallucinogenic, angelic third of the three sisters, each of whom will be loved by Marco. As with all such Alice-trios, the question is who is dreaming the story. That it could be a character from another, similarly-structured film is especially delicious.

Many reviews note that Benigno is a virgin. Why would this be more trusted information than anything else; why wouldn’t he have had two decades of sexual commitment to his mother? And why would we assume the baby is dead?

Posted in 2003

Ted’s Evaluation — 4 of 3: Every cineliterate person should experience this.

IMDB