NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL “CHERRY-PIC”: PEDRO ALMODÓVAR’S PAIN & GLORY COULD BE THIS YEAR’S BEST FOREIGN FILM OSCAR-WINNER
Without any of the self-pity, self-mythologizing nor sense of blamelessness-facilitated-by-denial found in Fellini’s 8 1/2, and using a far less complex movie-within-a movie and play-within-a-movie elliptical motif than the late, great Alain Resnais’ well, late, great films cycle, with Pain & Glory, Almodóvar has cut, or rather, deep-dived and brought to surface a shimmering — make that glimmering, freshwater pearl of a crown jewel contribution to the pantheon of directorial auto-fiction.
I’ll even go so far as to say — after first admitting that beyond Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down, Live Flesh, and Pepi, Luci, Bom (which I like very much) I was never a huge Almodóvar fan — that for me (and likely only for me) this is his best film, or rather, my favorite of all his works, which I made it my business to see, after my first New York Film Festival, when Women On The Verge of A Nervous Breakdown — and NYFF’s curation of same — helped break him in the United States.
Indeed, as a native New Yorker and a fan of this festival (two existential facticities that I believe endow me with the right to alternately defend and grumble about it with equal ardor) I’m disappointed that NYFF didn’t make this a centerpiece screening. I mean, given that Almodóvar is a kind of NYFF legacy director, it would have been, in this case, appropriately Cannes-like for the NYFF to have given this film a little more marquee — whilst still delivering a total patron-crowd-pleaser, and, I’m guessing, what will easily be one of the most popular films at this festival. I mean, keen as I am to see The Irishman and Motherless Brooklyn, do we really need two Post-War fedora-dominated period-piece crime-flicks and a, well, divorce story taking up the all of the opening night/centerpiece/closing night marquee real estate?
Sure, you could argue that hometown pride is on display with three — well, two-and-a-half — of these stories (The Irishmen, Motherless Brooklyn and Marriage Story, respectively) taking place in New York, however, you could also argue that lauding a phenomenal accomplishment (and which has a very wide appeal) by a director whom this festival has championed, would be totally apropos to the festival mission of celebrating global cinema. I mean, not for nothing did Banderas win Best Actor at Cannes, and having him here for the centerpiece screenings seems like something patrons would love.
Plus, since Banderas owns a winery, he could have hooked everyone up, like Sofia Coppola has at Walter Reade. Anyway, I hope that Spain, amidst deciding which of its final three candidates for Oscar consideration will be submitted, will, well, love, and not penalize Love & Pain as a film by a famous director; if it is the best film, and the best film for the job, then submit it — because frankly, I could easily see this winning the Oscar for Best Foreign Film. I could also see Banderas get that rare foreign language Best Actor Oscar nomination, which I also thought just and likely, immediately after seeing the late, great Emmanuelle Rivas in Amour at the NYFF, and she subsequently did.
Anyway, what do I know? Suffice it to say that Pain & Glory nearly has it all: reckoning the loss of, and an ode to, a heroic, single parent; a subtle, self-indicting, you can’t go home again scene; phenomenal wardrobe and set decoration messaging/symbolism; tender un-maudlin and admirably self-indicting introspection; a brief (not, ever after) happy-ending reunion of two lovers (without a requisite, clichéd, ahem, happy ending); a hilarious scene of homosexual awakening (said this possibly oafish heterosexual male who was the only person laughing during the fainting scene at the screening last night, however, I thought it sublime and funny, kinda like the outré fainting-awakening scene in A Room With A View), and a sense of time’s passing that will resonate (again, with various demographics) quite profoundly. Beyond the trailer, I’ve spared you a synopsis, leaving this masterwork for you, fellow movie-lover, to discover. ¡Well done, Almodóvar!
Extra-credit reading: Banderas’ stepdaughter Dakota Johnson’s tri-star role, shared with Zack Gottsagen and Shia LaBeouf, Peanut Butter Falcon, plus the trailer of LaBeouf’s soon-to-be-released Honey Boy, for which he seems to be going full Allison Janney, as a love/hate stage-parent, for which he might also be getting some award notice? Don’t know, haven’t seen it yet.
