Movie Review: Pain & Glory

Pain & Glory **** / *****

Directed by: Pedro Almodóvar.

Written by: Pedro Almodóvar.

Starring: Antonio Banderas (Salvador Mallo), Asier Etxeandia (Alberto Crespo), Leonardo Sbaraglia (Federico Delgado), Nora Navas (Mercedes), Julieta Serrano (Jacinta), César Vicente (Eduardo), Asier Flores (Salvador Mallo), Penélope Cruz (Jacinta), Cecilia Roth (Zulema), Susi Sánchez (Beata), Raúl Arévalo (Venancio Mallo).

 

Great directors get old enough, and they will inevitably make a film about an aging great director, no longer appreciated as he once was, and falling into a pity spiral of some kind. Some directors (like Fellini or Woody Allen) get there sooner than others, but it makes sense that Pedro Almodovar has gotten there at this point in his career with Pain & Glory. The cracks in the Almodovar’s amazing output started showing a decade ago – when 2009’s Broken Embraces was met with basically a shrug – after a string of films that won him massive acclaim, prizes at Festivals around the world (although never the Palme at Cannes – where his films won everything else) and even as Screenplay Oscar, a rarity for a foreign filmmaker. In films like All About My Mother, Talk to Her, Bad Education and Volver, Almodovar delivered on what had become one of the best streaks for international art house audiences of any director in decades. But the last 10 years have not been as celebrated – after Broken Embraces was greeted with a shrug, The Skin I Live In found some great admirers, but also a lot of confusion (was Almodovar channeling Asian extreme cinema here), and the less said about the dismal “comedy” I’m So Excited the better. Even Julieta, my favorite from this period, seemed to be Almodovar trying to recapture something he had lost – and doing good, but not quite great.

 

Now, if Pain & Glory was the kind of self-pitying portrait of an artist who still thinks he is a genius, and no one else can see it, it may have been insufferable. We’ve seen those films before, and they usually don’t work very well. But Pain & Glory – which Almodovar insists isn’t autobiographical, even going so far as having dialogue in the film itself to that effect, but come on – he isn’t fooling anyone – isn’t that kind of film at all. It is a portrait of a great filmmaker, now late into middle age, questioning everything. He has a variety of medical illnesses that leave him in too much pain to work. The drugs don’t work as they once did, and he still struggles with the death of his beloved mother. He lives a solitary life in his great Madrid apartment (apparently Almodovar’s actual apartment – again, he isn’t fooling anyone) surrounded by artwork, and reminders of his once great career. He is now reflecting on his life – and his choices – that has led him to this point. It isn’t self-pity – but rather a rather clear eyed examination of this director.

 

The director is named Salvador Mallo, and is played by Antonio Banderas – a frequent collaborator with Almodovar, delivering the best performance of his career. It starts out with Mallo being asked to host a Q&A on one of his best known films – a film from 32 years ago, that he hasn’t watched since its premiere, because he was angry at the lead actor Alberto (Asier Etxeandia) for delivering a performance different from the one Mallo wanted him to give. He hasn’t spoken to Alberto since. Seeing the film however, he realizes how good the performance was – and tracks down Alberto. Alberto was a heroin addict back then – and still uses. And slowly, Salvador, who never used, starts using heroin as well. It’s the only thing that can cure his pain – but it also allows him to escape from his life. We also get flashbacks to Salvador’s childhood – growing up poor with a mostly absent father, and a loving mother (Penelope Cruz), who as we see her played by the great Julieta Serrano later in the film, loved her only child – even if she never fully accepted him, or his homosexuality.

 

Pain & Glory is about Salvador coming to terms with his past – learning to let go of some of it, and just accept others parts of it. It’s also about him slowly finding his way back to expressing himself artistically – which has to do with allowing himself to explore those painful parts of his past.

 

Almodovar has always been an artist who has dabbled in meta-fiction in his films – but often they have come in different ways, telling the story of the women in his life, but from a distance. That distance is erased here, because Almodovar is at the core of the film in the Banderas character. It’s a tribute to Banderas’ performance that he doesn’t try and do an Almodovar impression – he doesn’t need to, he knows this man inside and out, and finds the right notes to play here. The film may not quite be as vibrant and colorful as some of Almodovar’s other films – not as bold or experimental in its style. But he’s replaced that with perhaps an even deeper emotional level. Without spoiling anything, I will say the last act of the film is one scene after another that may well inspire tears – a long conversation with someone from Mallo’s past is among the best scenes Almodovar has ever done, and it’s followed up with bolder statements on art – from the past, and moving into the future.

 

Almodovar is 70 now – so it’s not uncommon for filmmakers at his age to have lost a step, and maybe simply trying to repeat his past successes, or trying too hard to be relevant again. Perhaps that has what has marred his work in the past decade. But with Pain & Glory, Almodovar has crafted his best work in years – and perhaps the most honest and heartfelt of all of his films. It certainly shows that he is not done yet.