La voix humaine

The dog is identified in the film credits at the end, but oddly not here - his name is Dash. And he does a great job.

Pedro Almodovar's short is, as the credits state - "freely adapted" from a Jean Cocteau stage production. Almodovar retains the central conceit of the play as it essentially is a monologue with a woman on a telephone talking with a lover (the other voice is never heard). Almodovar includes a brief prologue and he winks at the viewer by 'revealing' the artificiality of his own production. He also revels in his usual saturated color schemes.

Fortunately, the woman is played by Tilda Swinton who has to carry the full half hour alone. Almodovar wisely has shaped the material (for the first time in English) around Swinton's talents and she carries it off for the most part, even if some of the eccentricities the Writer-Director don't really work.

A film about the world, about loss and about the pressures of reality. A beautiful performance from Swinton. The colours, phrasing and staging are just wonderful. A great watch and in places humorous some how.

'The Human Voice (2020)' is a short film based around Jean Cocteau's play of the same name. It's directed by Pedro Almodóvar (his English-language debut) and stars Tilda Swinton as pretty much the only on-screen character (there are some background extras towards the start, but that's about it). It's a very pared-down affair, not just within its story but also within its presentation. Though it's colourful and sometimes lavish, it doesn't have the same, shall I say, 'high-calibre melodrama' feel that much of the famous director's work has. Instead, it draws as much attention to its focal performance as possible, the film taking a backseat to its subject. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, even if it runs the risk of making the flick's central monologue become a little monotonous, as it draws attention to the main reason the thing exists in the first place. In many ways, the short feels purely like a vehicle for Swinton to flex her acting muscles. The actual story isn't all that impactful and it's only as interesting as it is (it never gets boring) because it's performed so utterly well. Ultimately, however, the flick comes across as a little hollow. It's entertaining enough for what it is, but it doesn't have much staying power and it isn't actually all that compelling. It isn't bad, don't get me wrong. It's just a very, I suppose, 'in-one-ear-and-out-the-other' kind of thing. Still, it's worth a watch if you're a fan of its director, star or source material (which, incidentally, bears some similarities with 'Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown (1988)', since Almodóvar has been inspired by Cocteau's work for quite some time). 6/10.

When long ago I saw Rossellini's version of this play by Cocteau with an audience of students the most memorable moment came when Anna Magnani finally put down the phone, promptly picked it up and started dialling again and everyone in the cinema groaned en masse.

The play has yet to be filmed in French, in Pedro Almodovar's first film in English this time it has brevity on it's side and it's Tilda Swinton's turn to be the woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

The original was in black & white but in true Almodovar style Swinton uses an earphone that makes the proceedings seem more like an interior monologue as she prowls about cigarette in hand dressed in chic little outfits in bright pastel colours complemented by the decor and even the pills that she pops.