The irruption of Pedro Almodóvar in the 80's brought an internationally accepted icon of the new democratic and liberated Spain. But many reviewers had accused him of being acritical and ahistorical. Until his emergence as a filmmaker and with the exceptions of Luis Buñuel and Carlos Saura, most of the Spanish directors were immersed in the ghosts of the Civil War.
With his new postmodern frivolous comedies, Almodóvar was establishing a new model of auteur, breaking with the French traditional perception set up in the former decades. 'In the 50's and 60's, Spain experienced a kind of neo-realism which was far less sentimental than the Italian brand and far more ferocious and amusing. I’m talking about the films El cochecito and El pisito. It is a pity that the line has not been continued', said Almodóvar in 1986. He tried to do just this, but converting it into an original way of experiencing Spanish life, never avoiding the past but unifying the old and the new, tradition and modernity, and building, as a result, a skilful portrait of the society of the time and, specially, of its women.
Madrid, and, in general, the big city is seen as the ideal development place for this new woman. Madrid itself represents the traces of time and history in its buildings, its streets and its people. So there is no need to talk about past anymore, since it is inherent to everyday stories.
Precisely, the Spanish director starts from a Francoist idea about relationships: the woman frustrated as a wife, lover or mother becomes a matriarch, harridan, or hysteric. So she is condemned to solitude, which is the price of liberty. However, we soon notice it is not a bitter solitude anymore: women can now look for a sense in their own. But first, Carmen Maura, as Pepa, has to get rid of the Francoist-style machismo (misogyny) that Iván (Fernando Guillén) shows in his relationships with women, which, this way, become battles of the sexes.
Madrid, and, in general, the big city is seen as the ideal development place for this new woman. Madrid itself represents the traces of time and history in its buildings, its streets and its people. So there is no need to talk about past anymore, since it is inherent to everyday stories.
Precisely, the Spanish director starts from a Francoist idea about relationships: the woman frustrated as a wife, lover or mother becomes a matriarch, harridan, or hysteric. So she is condemned to solitude, which is the price of liberty. However, we soon notice it is not a bitter solitude anymore: women can now look for a sense in their own. But first, Carmen Maura, as Pepa, has to get rid of the Francoist-style machismo (misogyny) that Iván (Fernando Guillén) shows in his relationships with women, which, this way, become battles of the sexes.
Like many other Spanish directors before him, Almodóvar writes his scripts and outlines his characters following the internalized tradition of Spanish black humour, esperpento, defined and developed by Spain's greatest modern author, Ramón María del Valle-Inclán (1866-1936). In his masterpiece Luces de Bohemia, his alter ego Max Estrella states 'The tragic sense of life can be rendered only through an aesthetic that is systematically deformed' because 'Spain is a grotesque deformation of European civilisation'.
Esperpento points out to the absurdly anomalous abyss between Spain’s magnificent tradition and its tough reality. Almodóvar, however, reinvents this sort of humour in a very postmodern style, turning it to an optimistic, humanized, way of living modern life. This is particularly remarkable in her female characters. While esperpento tradition regards people as mere human marionettes, exposed to misunderstandings and confusion, women in Mujeres al borde… still find a way out to that chaos, unlike the plain, simple male characters that remain incapable to evolve.
In Luces de Bohemia, nobody seems to care about anyone and everything, even death, looks insignificant. That is what Mujeres suggested at the beginning but, on the contrary, Almodóvar's women are the only ones having compassion and giving real support and understanding to the others, while men still think selfishly.
Even evil female characters are deeper, and the director portrays them as heroines out of a Spanish Golden Age picaresque novel: they do not deserve any compassion. Once more, the "Spanishness" behind Almodóvar’s depiction of the new liberated woman (but still suffering the consequences of the immediate previous period) makes misfortune look tragicomic. 'Spain is an absurd country', wrote Ganivet. 'Absurdity is its nerve and mainstay. Its turn to prudence will denote its end'.
In Luces de Bohemia, nobody seems to care about anyone and everything, even death, looks insignificant. That is what Mujeres suggested at the beginning but, on the contrary, Almodóvar's women are the only ones having compassion and giving real support and understanding to the others, while men still think selfishly.
Even evil female characters are deeper, and the director portrays them as heroines out of a Spanish Golden Age picaresque novel: they do not deserve any compassion. Once more, the "Spanishness" behind Almodóvar’s depiction of the new liberated woman (but still suffering the consequences of the immediate previous period) makes misfortune look tragicomic. 'Spain is an absurd country', wrote Ganivet. 'Absurdity is its nerve and mainstay. Its turn to prudence will denote its end'.
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