Talk to Her
Did you ever go see a movie, and love it, but wonder if there was anyone you could recommend it to? That’s how I felt about Pedro Almodovar’s brilliant “Talk to Her.” It seemed to plug into a part of my brain that I’m not sure anyone else possesses.
Hollywood wouldn’t have touched this thing with a 10-foot pole, and so much the better for audiences. I shudder to think what a conventional neutered American director would have done with a story about two women in comas and the two men who care for them. Almodovar fashions something that is funny, shocking, puzzling, touching, tough and tender all at the same time. You never know quite where it’s going, but you can’t wait to see where you’ll end up when you get there.
I’m not much for writing about plot; I leave that to Roger Ebert, whose reviews seem to be just plot expositions with a minimal amount of criticism thrown on top. But with this movie, I especially don’t want to say anything about what happens. Most of the beauty of this movie is in the evolving relationships, and it’s best to let that unspool on its own.
Recommended? Go see it, and let me know if our brains resemble each other.
I owe you a cookie, Adam. I have loved each Almodovar movie I’ve seen (my favorite being “High Heels” for reasons I can’t even begin to understand, much less explain) but, living as I do in the suburban backwoods of Central Florida, I don’t even know anyone who can pronounce his name, much less watch one with me. Thus, I’ve lost contact with his work. So, thank you for the information.