[rating=8.00]
Director Pedro Almodovar has only gotten better with age. While the time of having something to prove has long since passed for the Spanish director, the confidence that comes with understanding of one’s own mastery has only sweetened the taste of the auteur.
And truly, Almodovar is a master filmmaker. His latter works exude a kind of quiet cool evinced only through experience—both in life and in craft. He’s always been an introspective creator, but age has brought a new level to his craft that belies that notion that directing is a young man’s game. Directing, as he proves with his latest film, Pain & Glory, is game that only requires having something to say.
The annals of the Almodovar’s career are filled with films that deserve attention, study, and contemplation. One can almost subject themselves to a masterclass by watching only the best of his best. While Pain & Glory might not be among his best, that doesn’t mean that it, too, isn’t worthy of reflection.
Pain & Glory follows the life of aging Spanish director Salvador Mallo (Antonio Banderas), who finds himself in a bit of a professional and personal crisis on the rerelease of his masterpiece from 30 years ago. Seeking new artistic purpose, he reconnects with the star of that film, the tempestuous Alberto Crespo (Asier Etxeandia) whom Salvador has not spoken with in 30 years. That meeting leads the director down a wild path of self-discovery and personal reflection to find the pieces that have been missing from his life.
This narrative is framed around his recollections of growing up impoverished with his mother, Jacinta (Penelope Cruz). Slowly, the course of the dueling narratives intertwine to give us a stunning portrait of an artist as an old man.
Almodovar’s script is as tight as they come, with each scene and every line an ode to the act and process of creation. Pain & Glory feels like Almodovar’s love letter to both movies and the cinematic process, with Salvador serving as his artistic avatar in this world. Banderas, a frequent collaborator of the director’s, has never been better. While he’s always been a good actor, his outings with Almodovar always feel elevated and, in this case, offers him the meatiest role of his career.
It’s one he bites into with ferocity. His portrayal of Salvador is full of quiet angst and fear. Salvador is a man in search of meaning without a single clue of where to find it, even within himself. He walks around with a glazed look, unable to make sense of himself as he comes ever nearer to the end of his days. His an emotional performance that resonates long after the lights come up and belies the notion that he was ever just a pretty face.
Though certainly not the director’s best film, Pain & Glory is still a remarkable wonder of a film that stands proud against the best of Almodovar’s oeuvre. In turns heartbreaking and hilarious, it’s an uproarious ode to the artistry of filmmaking and a solemn dirge for the pains of living.
Pain & Glory is now playing in select theaters.
