Todo sobre mi madre

After a tragic family crisis Manuela (Roth) escapes her current life by fleeing to Barcelona where she hopes to find her former lover and her son's father.

Having been a big fan of Volver I decided to check out another Pedro Almodovar classic and was not to be disappointed as I was brought into another strong family drama that adds the deftest of comedy touches that never overshadow the dark and dramatic lives of the characters.

Cecilia Roth stars as central protagonist Manuela who looks for some escapism after seeing one too many troubles at home and when disaster strikes she flees to Barcelona where she hopes to discover where her son's father and her former lover is. Lola, a transvestite is not aware of Esteban which as the film progresses delivers numerous dramatic consequences and tear threatening montages.

As writer and director Almodovar seems to be able to cement the right dramatic input at the right time, delivering a supposed expectancy only to strive to shock the audience with a powerful emotional twist or an unthinkable idea. To say what the unthinkable idea is in this 1999 release would be to spoil a well worked powerfully controlled heartbreaker, which would cost the true value of a picture purposefully identified with its drama.

We have underage pregnancies, traumatic and unexpected death, family rivalry, former lovers, drug abuse and fiery working relationships that juxtaposed, all cement this in the drama genre and given the context they are used in add to a great sense of realism. The way everything threads together is nicely worked with only a few hitches.

Roth's character a former actress is conveniently placed in a theatre to see what will follow to recapture the past, the absence of the father for such a long time distances some emotional connection for the audience and no matter how hard the plot works to convey its powerful message it never feels as compassionate and as emotionally connected as Volver.

This film does boast some tremendous performances. A young Penelope Cruz would go on and generate her international stardom with this performance as the young worker who is pregnant. Cecilia Roth carries the picture with her constant driven attitude to not look back and thrives on living in the moment. The supporting cast all lend a strong array of drama and some good comedy from Antonio San Juan as Agrado, especially her scene on stage.

The cinematography and usage of various places keeps the feisty drama alive. The dreadful scene with the prostitutes, the stage for the replica of A Streetcar named desire and the terrible incident in Madrid all combine to make this a wonderful drama.

Strong well performed and written drama 8.5/10

As this was my first Almodovar movie I didn't quite expect that much,was I ever going to be surprised.Almodovar is widely seen as the greatest Spanish cineast since Luis Bunuel,which I really like,and I must say that I concur with that.The resemblances between the two directors are also there,both use intense drama and comedy in one scene to great effect and both attack the church in a big way.

TODO SOBRE MI MADRE is simply one of the best drama's I've ever seen because of it's superb acting and difficult but inventive storyline.The characters are also very well worked out. Leading lady Cecilia Roth is sensational as the mourning mother and the rest of the cast isn't any worse.The supporting roles by Penelope Cruz,Marise Paredes and especially Antonia San Juan are great.San Juan is a real time transvestite which makes it even more realistic. Almodovar caused quite a commotion with this provocative film although it never goes over the line(at least not in my taste)but you should not be old fashioned or truly religious because then it will offend you.

The humor that is put in the film makes it an even better experience.The mixture of intense drama and comedy is perfect.Another brilliant addition is the great soundtrack.The mixture between harmonic classical pieces and jazzy compositions is magnificent.

I can't wait to see more of Almodovar's work. 9/10 (currently number 39 in my all time top 100 list)

What I like most about Almodovar's films, this one in particular, is the way he will grab you and pull you into a world you would not normally know and then, confront you with people's lives, emotions, relationships. Manuela, the mother who at the beginning seems so in control and clinical, earnest in her love and with the best intentions for her son, is shown to be much like you and me... full of doubts, questions, a need for answers and trying to understand how her life course has brought her to the present day and made her who she is. Barcelona in winter is richly filmed and serves as a backdrop for the renewing of old satisfying friendships and the budding of new ones, happening simultaneously and somewhat unexpectedly. It rings so true. The slow realisation that we are never really complete, that it's the people we love and live with, or avoid and later regret having done so, that makes us who we are. Almodovar sees the human condition and paints it carefully in this film.

I came to this film wanting to hate it, but I was seduced by it and it affected me deeply. Why hate? Because I had just seen a TV documentary about Almodovar. He talks a good deal of shallow rubbish, and the showbusiness darlings who surround him are vile. However, his film speaks with the sincere voice of artistic talent. It even has a touch of greatness.

It is a film about Woman. Almodovar is well-known for his preoccupation with feminine sensibility, and here we go through the range of female awarenesses - Madre, Puta, Actriz. This is not the 'macro' masculine world of war and politics, but the feminine 'micro' universe of caring, loving and suffering. In a real sense, it is "All About Eve".

Manuela loves her son Esteban totally and unconditionally. When he is taken from her, she must forge a new life. Back in her native Barcelona she finds fulfilment caring for Rosa the pregnant nun and Huma the barren actress. A new Esteban appears, and the cycle of living and loving begins again.

This flimsy summary of the story gives no real idea of the film's symbolic and dramatic richness. It is a pattern made of other patterns, with stories repeating, reversing and overlapping endlessly. Names can mean a break with the past (Agrado, Huma) or they can insist on continuity (Rosa, Esteban). In the guignol tradition, names can also delineate character - Agrado tries to make life agreeable for others, Huma Rojo is red smoke, a hollow illusion, and Nina is an adult with a child's personality.

Almodovar deliberately offends against social custom. Women are fathers, birth means death and drama is more real than life. It is tempting to think of Almodovar as the new Bunuel, and he takes the same childish pleasure in shocking the 'decent' Spanish bourgeoisie. When Agrado gives her performance in the theatre, the old folks walk out in disgust while the youngsters stay and are entertained.

"This play marked my life," says Manuela of 'A Streetcar Named Desire'. It made her a mother (the defining experience of her existence) because it introduced her to Lola. She explains that she played Stella and Lola played Kowolski, literally and figuratively. The male symbol is brutal and cruel, the female symbol is the nurturer of life who endures abuse because she loves. Like Stella, Manuela escaped, pregnant and alone. The play returns later as Esteban's birthday treat and the cause of his death. Manuela knows the text by heart, and when she follows the production to Barcelona, fate pulls her into the drama and she triumphs as Stella. Huma is Blanche, the sad derelict, "relying on the kindness of strangers". (Another link with the play is the title of Almodovar's own production company, "Deseo".)

Esteban's delight with his new book is shown in the reading of the foreword - "es un prefacio maravilloso!" The film, similarly, has a marvellous preface. A bag of plasma drips purposefully, its valve shaped like a crucifix. The symbolism is rich and catholic, and prepares us for what will come - here is a figurative mother, giving the blood of life and suffering the cross of sorrow. Taps, console and graph represent institutionalised care, as opposed to the natural, personal care of a mother. These things are neat and orderly, but cold and soulless. This is the organ donation unit of a hospital. It does excellent work, but we see its effort in fragments rather than a whole. The files list organs, not people - 'higado', 'corazon'. Technology can help us, but it can never replace maternal love. We feel uneasy when we are told that "the machine is breathing for him".

Manuela works as a nurse (symbol of the nurturing mother) in this unit, and we see her as an actress appearing in a training video, playing a mother whose son is dead. Two doctors ask for the boy's organs. New life must be nourished from his body's wreckage. When the scene is repeated for real, it is almost too painful to watch. Almodovar takes us to the 'meta' level, with Manuela's anguish setting up cross-rhythms with her professionalism. Love is stronger than systems, and the organ co-ordinator weeps for Manuela.

The real Manuela stands tiny before a vast advert for 'Streetcar', showing Huma's face. Is the image more potent than the individual? Or is Almodovar saying that superficial impact fades, whereas human empathy endures? What is the relationship between the true woman and her made-up face? Esteban dies pursuing the 'red smoke' of an actress's fame. If he had stayed with his real mother and not chased an illusion, he would have been safe.

Esteban will bestow new life. We go with Manuela as she follows her son's heart to Coruna, where another young man has hope restored. The mulch of death feeds the roots of life. Manuela knows two places, Spain's first and second cities, Madrid and Barcelona (importantly for Almodovar, these are the two pre-eminently 'modern' towns). She moves between them along the tunnel umbilicus, as a pregnant teenager, childless mother and finally as triumphant madonna with the 'new' Esteban.

The spectacular vista of Barcelona and sumptuous portal of Gaudi's Sagrada Familia rapidly disappear, and we are soon in an ugly wasteland where prostitutes parade as grotesques in a hell worthy of Goya. These two Barcelonas recur again and again - the outward city of quirky, appealing architecture and the mean streets of the hopeless, directionless underclass.

Almodovar's narrative has been engrossing up to this point. Now it will expand and deepen as a new cast of characters is woven into the film's fabric.

"Que raro!"

I've watched this masterpiece by Almodovar four times. Each time I unearth new sequences of pure unadulterated truth, beauty, and genius. It is just a totally compelling and amazingly insightful comedy-tragedy that works on so many levels.

Cecilia Roth is an Almodovar favorite, and there's no mystery as to why this is the case. She can express tragedy, wisdom, and an appreciation of dark humor only with her eyes and facial positioning, and express all three vividly at the same time. Her voice also is as commanding of respect as it is sexy and fragile.

Almodovar eye for visual poems of incongruity reaches a new pinnacle in this masterpiece. First, there is the haunting by-play of darkness and light preceding Roth coming to the rescue of El Agreado. Much later, we are treated to the brightness of the upscale restaurant Roth where Roth waits for her ex-husband Lola juxtaposed with a merciless exploration of the vast dark despair of Lola's eyes. Between these bookend-style frames, the profound dualities abound.

If you see one foreign language film per year, make this your next one.