Limelight: Man of La Mancha By Lubna Abdel Aziz Pedro Almodóvar may have been born in Spain, but his first language is the language of film. His chillingly delightful features explore the common denominator in man's basic emotions, evoking complex reactions that both disturb and console, in an artful style, robust, unique, insane, totally Almodóvar. Without warning he bursts into the abyss of your deepest depths, opening all doors and windows to your soul, leaving your nakedness as the only shield against the blinding light of the blazing sunshine. Sensitive and controversial, Almodóvar can be offensive, agreeable, strange, familiar, brave, timid, but always exciting. He takes liberties that are daring and disturbing, savage and cruel, yet we cannot afford to quarrel with him. We accept and forgive him, for he has looked in our hearts and revealed the basic truths of our tangled webs. Throughout a highly successful career spanning two decades, he has earned admiration and respect. He has braved the battle and the breeze, transporting us to seas hitherto untraveled, in search of manifold and marvelous adventures -- in search of sincere, guileless human truths. Half devil, half angel, Almodóvar cuts a strange figure, flitting about through a world of dust and ashes. His diminutive body emphasises further his massive head with its thick black mane rising straight to the ceiling, perpetually overcome by the shocking absurdities of the human race. His latest feature Talk to Her (Habla Con Ella), is being received with the same warmth and amazement, and the million accolades bestowed on past works. It has already won the European Film Academy's Best Screenplay, Best Director and Best Film awards,and the Golden Globe Award for best Foeign Language Film, and that is only the beginning. It has been described as a masterpiece of sensibility, an editorial commentary on learning to communicate with women through men. Known for his legendary direction of actresses this time in Talk To Her, his theme is the platonic love of two men who stand vigil by the bedside of two comatose women, a bullfighter Lydia (Rosario Flores) gored by a bull, and a ballerina Alicia (Leonor Watling) struck down by a car. A strong bond unites the two men, Benigno (Javier Camaro), a male nurse, and Marco (Dario Grandinetti), a journalist, brought together by the fact that the two most important women in their lives are in long-term comas. They share attributes traditionally considered feminine. They bathe, clean, care and shed tears over their women who will never learn of their devotion. While that may seem creepy at times, Almodóvar's masterful sensibility carefully seasoned with suspense and humour makes it easy on the palette. The rich banquet his genius has spread before us is of many courses. While the film is not a mystery, it hinges on a secret. His fire and fury is tempered by a peaceful soul. The world as a whole is sadly lacking in the knowledge of great motion pictures. Except for national and imported Hollywood productions of superstars and multimillions, film theatres worldwide find little room for international gems, which only see the light at international film festivals and limited distribution at sparsely scattered art theatres. The opportunity for knowing or viewing such films is scarce. But Almodóvar of Spain is a filmmaker worth knowing. Always intense, his artful blend of point counterpoint, of fantasy and reality, humour and tragedy, paints a candid picture of the troubled souls of male and female characters that are at once familiar and sympathetic. Born in 1950 in Calzada de Calatrava, in the impoverished Spanish region of La Mancha, Pedro Almodóvar like Don Quixote had dreams of battling great giants. He rejected the Catholic beliefs of his youth, and his strict Franciscan Friars, and retained only a belief in God and in motion pictures. At 16 he headed for Madrid to learn his craft. But this was fascist Spain, Franco was ruler, homosexuals undesirable, and the Film Academy had just closed its doors by order of the Spanish dictator. Undaunted, Pedro shot underground short films, which became celebrated events among the burgeoning Spanish counterculture. In 1975 Franco died, and Spain became a democracy. Almodóvar began his ascent as his country's leading film auteur/ director. His first feature length motion picture Pepi, Lucy, Bom... (1980) about sadism, rape, and corruption revealed the rebellious visionary who found himself in the right place at the right time. He became the darling of the intelligentsia, and proceeded to write, direct, produce, design as well as compose the music for his 1982 release Laberinto de Pasiones (Labyrinth of Passion). Since then he has released 12 more features, restricting his efforts to writing and directing. Bordering on the surreal, his colourful panorama of screen subjects are filled with sex, humour, violence and at the root, a little madness. The guns of criticism were seldom pointed in his direction. His deeper underlying themes cannot be denied. He collaborated with many budding stars in his native Spain, now shining luminaries in international cinema. Names such as Antonio Banderas, Penelope Cruz, Javier Bardim, but Pedro remains homebound. So far the lure of Hollywood has left him cold. He remains a Spanish filmmaker whose films may be Spanish- speaking but he speaks to each of us in our own language. He first came to the attention of the international viewing public in 1988 with his hilarious Mujeres al Borde de un Attaque de Nervios (Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown). The film won universal acclaim, worldwide distribution and quickly became a wildly hysterical international box-office hit. Almodóvar was on his way, his reputation reaching the four corners of the cinematic globe. He followed Mujeres with the sinister comedy about a kidnapping Atame! (Tie me Up, Tie me Down), which triumphantly walked that fine line between "over the top" and "entertainingly surreal". "Masterpiece", a noun familiar to Almodóvar often applied by critics to film after film, year after year. But his 1999 Todo Sobre Mi Madre (All About My Mother) has been dubbed the best of the best. His gift of dealing with women was taken a step further, offering us a dizzying, dazzling, bittersweet picture of womanhood -- as mother, confidante, lover of men, lover of women, prostitute, pregnant nun, actress, junkie, not to mention a woman who used to be a man. A probing look at mothering and womanhood, about a single mother Manuela, who takes her beloved son Escobar to a performance of A Streetcar Named Desire to celebrate his birthday. So taken by the performance of Maria Paredes as Stella, Escobar chases after her car in the rain, is hit and killed. What a cruel beginning! His heart is then sent off to Barcelona for organ donation and Manuela follows. "I had to follow my son's heart", and she does, literally and figuratively. The heavies among film critics called it "marvelous", "stirring", "genius", and "Best Film of the Year". It won every prestigious award filmdom had to offer including the Cannes Palme d'Or, Best Foreign Language Film Award by the Golden Globe and the Oscars-Academy Award. Deliciously overpowering Talk To Her is on every critic's best 10 list for 2002, showered with superlatives at every viewing. Judging from the profuse strains of critical praise, it will most likely amass its share of international awards. For Pedro Almodóvar, characters are everything and film is the noble language of communication. It is the flesh of his flesh, the bone of his bone, and if you are serious about film, about life, about death, about deception, devotion, humour, and this surreal existence, catch a film, any film, by Pedro Almodóvar, the little man of La Mancha, whose head is bigger than his body, whose films are better than most films. Oh! It is also a good piece of advice for every man, any time, anywhere to "Talk To Her!"
