Hable con ella

Pedro Almodovar's "Talk to Her" is as suprisingly sweet as it is profoundly disturbing. It is an examination of the nature of love that attempts to challenge our idea of what love is by taking it to its very limits. The lead character is a typical sad sack; slightly disturbed, isolated and sexually inexperienced. He spends his days staring out of his window at a rapturously beautiful dancer, and tries to form a relationship with her by becoming a patient at her father's psychiatric practice. This eventually leads to disaster when he sneaks into her room to steal an item of hers and finds her just coming out of the shower. But the guy perseveres. After spending years looking after his mother (Who wasn't an invalid, she just didn't like moving very much) he gains a degree in nursing and works with camatose patients. To his joy, one of the camatose patients turns out to be the dancer, and so now he can spend all day expressing and demonstrating his love for her. At least, you could see it that way. Or you could see it as an innocent and helpless girl delivered into the hands of a sexual deviant stalker who now can manhandle her and fantacise about her in any way he pleases. I think you can guess by now where the film is heading, and when the ultimate act is committed, Almodovar presents it in such a way as to show the audience how it could be interpreted as an act of love and selflessness. We never see the act itself, only the man's interpretation of it, and the sequence is, suprisingly, quite funny and, in strange way, touching. But that does not alter the fact that Almodovar is attempting to make rape emotionally acceptable. The film makes this particularly clear by its ending, which, if you have been following this review, I am sure you could also guess. Call me a prude, but I have always felt that love that is only felt by one person is not truly love. True love is something that built by two people by constant attention and care. If I tell someone, "I love you" and she cannot say "I love you too," then I am only really in love with an illusion, not a person.

Rating **** out of ****

Spanish Writer-Director Pedro Almodovar is a filmmaker that always captures strange, and honest moments within his characters emotions-especially women. Such films as "All About My Mother", and "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" support this, but in Almodovar's latest film "Talk To Her"--he does something a little different by making men the protagasnits. It's brilliant, unique, and creative filmmaking at its best. However beneath all the brilliance is a lovely, sweet film that is charming in its own little way.

Almodovar crafts "Talk to Her" with a style that is unique in color and tone, and it has behavioral exposition that is far more mature and tonally sustained than anything he's done before. But the plot is insane as anything that Almodovar's has done before, which makes the movie more of a career-peak change, its a masterpiece constructed on the solid foundation of everything he's previously tried and learned. The movie's great, bad-boy conceit is that its two heroes, wounded-in-love journalist Marco (Dario Grandinetti) and naive nurse Benigno (Javier Camara), are hopelessly in love with women they can't communicate with -- and that really gives the two guys something to talk about, as well as a base for the strongest of friendships. Not that their women are intentionally unreachable; both, you see, are in comas.

By the end of this crazy, heart-thrilling tale, Almodovar has delivered us through un unexpecting film of humor, human emotions, specific human connections, remorse, and philosophies. "Talk to Her" is more than just a run of a talked about foreign film, and having Oscar-Nomination potential-it is one of the best movies of 2002.

This is a film about men and their emotions. One man has a relationship with a woman, the most famous female matador in Spain. He cries over the most strange things. The female matador gets in a coma. The other man is in love with a woman, he has only spoken to her once. The man is a male nurse and when the woman gets in a coma he is the one to take care of her. Some people around him thinks he is gay so he is allowed to take care of her, see her naked, touch her. The two men get to know each other while waiting at the beds of their loved ones.

I will not reveal what happens with the two women, or with the men. The way the subject is handled is great. In one way we see the two man devoting their lives two women. In another way we see the creepy part of that. For example we know the male nurse is in love with the one he is taking care of, and as I said, he sees naked every day. The woman seems to be an obsession, the man seems to be obsessed. We have sympathy for the men anyway.

The acting is good, a very intelligent story and a great direction makes this film one of the year's best. In the end you will have a strange feeling, and a good feeling as well.

There are many who say that "Todo Sobre Mi Madre" is his best film, but now that I've seen both these movies, I give the nod - by a long way - to "Hable con Ella". This is a masterpiece, and not just because of the poignancy of the characters, or the story in general, or the way the scenes are shot - watching the matador get dressed was quite engrossing - but EVERYTHING comes together so wonderfully. The brilliance of Spanish-language films never fails to amaze me, and this is another one in that long line of greatness. There will be times where the viewer may feel somewhat uncomfortable with the characters and their actions, but that does not stop Almodovar from exploring such emotions; indeed, one sometimes gets the impression that Almodovar's entire purpose is to make you analyze your own feelings - and simply does it better than anyone else. Recommended for anyone who can read subtitles.

I think Almodovar is portraying a common male fantasy by portraying a Benigno obsessed and in love with a beautiful comatose woman. She is beautiful, sexually yielding, and doesn't have a functioning brain. In a way, it is like the Stepford Wives, where women are merely sexually attractive robots that do not possess any real intellect or consciousness, and certainly not the ability to refuse sex.