Leo Macias writes sentimental novels with great success but hidden under a pseudonym, Amanda Gris. She is unhappy with her professional life and with her husband, a soldier working in ... See full summary »
Kika, a young cosmetologist, is called to the mansion of Nicolas, an American writer to make-up the corpse of his stepson, Ramon. Ramon, who is not dead, is revived by Kika's attentions and... See full summary »
A girl's mother returns after 15 years to find her daughter has married one of her (the mother's) old boyfriends. They try to mend their broken mother/daughter relationship and deal with ... See full summary »
When it appears as though the end is in sight, the pilots, flight crew, and passengers of a plane heading to Mexico City look to forget the anguish of the moment and face the greatest danger, which we carry within ourselves.
Passion, obsession, wealth, jealousy, family, guilt, and creativity. In Madrid, Harry Caine is a blind screenwriter, assisted by Judit and her son Diego. The past comes rushing in when Harry learns of the death of Ernesto Martel, a wealthy businessman, and Ernesto's son pays Harry a visit. In a series of flashbacks to the 1990s, we see Harry, who was then Mateo Blanco, a director; he falls in love with Ernesto's mistress, Lena, and casts her in a film, which Ernesto finances. Ernesto is jealous and obsessive, sending his son to film the making of the movie, to follow Lena and Mateo, and to give him the daily footage. Judit doesn't like Lena. It's a collision course.Written by
Mateo's wristwatch has the crystal intact. A blind person's watch would have the crystal removed, so that (s)he could tell time by feeling the position of the hands. See more »
[in Spanish, quoting English subtitles]
What's your name?
I used to be called Mateo and I was a film director. I was always tempted by the idea of being someone else, as well as myself. Living one's life wasn't enough, so I invented a pseudonym, Harry Caine, an adventurer who, as fate would have it, became a writer. I had him sign all the scripts and stories I wrote. For years, Mateo Blanco and Harry Caine shared the same body, mine. But a moment came when ...
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A sorry Almodovar. A truly, deeply, and disappointingly slow sorrow maelstrom
There's not much to say when Pedro Almodovar gives us a good movie. Even less when he gives us a wonderful movie. Unfortunately Los Abrazos Rotos is way way below Todo Sobre Mi Madre, Hable con Ella, and one slight cut below Volver. Even La Mala Educacion was somewhat more consistent.
Maybe Almodovar got stuck in the trap of self-importance as he wanted to tell a story about movies, about his love for cinema. Movie references in his previous works were just subtle touches, even when he insisted on speaking of All About Eve in All Todo Sobre Mi Madre (About My Mother).
Los Abrazos Rotos starts out nice, this blind writer seems to have a lot to show us. With the first flashback to 1992 we already lose some ground since we are shifting gears down to another emotional setup; from there we start over grounded in pathos, so it is like we are told to hold back, just like the main characters. Since we are curious about the whole backstory we can take some of this, even though we're left with very little to chew as it unfolds. Eventually, when we know it all about the drama 14 years back, the movie painfully drags its feet to a dull ending. I would never have imagined Almodovar could get so boring. Was it just him drowned in nostalgia for a time when all his energy would come easily and easily translate into those buoyant, yet emotional, features like Chicas y Maletas -- I mean Mujeres al Borde de un Ataque de Nervios?
It seems to me there's a big bug in the script (damn, I would never have imagined myself indulging in the critique of one of Almodovar's scripts). Basically, all major characters are on the same emotional level: they all bear the scars of a painful love and none is speaking his mind. We're just there to wait, overwhelmed by pathos, until a long winding flashback will tell us more. Maybe the movie starts up too emotional and fails to lighten up before going back to its roots. Hable con Ella didn't really ever lighten up but it was way more focused. So I dare say Almodovar messed up his craft here. It's not that bad since he gave us so much before, but it's quite a big letdown.
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