My dad started
taking me to the movies when I was four. At home, he let me watch whatever he
watched on TV (typically cartoons, fantasy, science-fiction, or horror) without
censoring things. I was fully immersed in all of it.
My mom, in
contrast, preferred romantic comedies. While I can’t relate to most romantic
comedies even today, I am more open to this genre now, especially if it is also
a musical. But back then, whenever mom made the movie choice, I became mentally
checked out and wished we were watching a Tim Burton film instead. As a result,
unlike my relationship with my dad, I hadn’t really connected with my mom while
watching a movie or TV, until …
… we discovered Pedro Almodóvar.
It was late
2002. One day, a family friend, and one of my bonus mothers, took my mom to the movies, which is the only
time mom went to the movies without me or my dad in my lifetime. After she
came back, we asked her about the movie. To this day, I remember the level of excitement she had when describing to us that movie, which was Hable con Ella (Talk
to Her).
Shortly after
this incident, one day I was perusing the TV guide on the newspaper (I feel old
writing this) and realized Todo
Sobre Mi Madre (All About My Mother) was on TV that evening. I asked my
mom if she would be up to watching Todo Sobre Mi Madre given that it had
the same director as Hable con Ella. She of course said yes.
I don’t remember
if my dad was also present that evening as we watched Todo Sobre Mi Madre.
As far as I am concerned, I was watching the movie with my mom and was
mesmerized. It was the first time my mom’s and my movie taste met. It was the
first time I was seeing such a diverse depiction of women, and not only
straight women, on screen. It was the first time a movie I was watching made me
think of all the women who were prominently in my life.
When I lived in
the US, at some point, I had a crush on a Spanish guy. During one of our long
talks, I brought up Almodóvar. He thought Almodóvar made movies
about the people who are on the fringes of society and not about “regular”
people, and therefore, Almodóvar’s movies didn’t represent him. This was
disappointing to hear, and unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the last time I hear
such a comment about Almodóvar.
Let’s give some examples of what is viewed as “fringe” here.
Women.
Mothers.
Sex
Workers.
Transgender
people.
Gay
people.
People with
disabilities.
People who were
sexually abused by a parental figure or church.
People who
express their emotions loudly.
People who have
AIDS.
People looking
for the graves of loved ones who were killed at the hands of a dictator.
People who have
to live with chronic pain.
People who love
someone despite being hurt by them.
People who care
about but also are estranged from each other.
…
In Almodóvar’s
characters, instead of “fringes of the society”, I often see my mother, my
grandmother, my aunt, and all the other women whose inner-lives I have been
exposed to as they were caring for me. The events and locations may not be the same, the style may be
overly theatrical or soap-opera-ish, but the stories and emotions that burst
out on the screen, and in contrast are swept under the rug or pushed to the fringes
in real life, are recognizable.
Beyond his focus
on women and gender, topics such as inter-generational impact of military
dictatorship, religion, and, in his last film, euthanasia are all covered
by Almodóvar with a political perspective that hits too close to
home.
In Dolor y Gloria (Pain
and Glory), the Almodóvar film with a protagonist that most closely
resembles Almodóvar himself, we see scenes of the protagonist’s childhood,
his mother washing clothes in the river with other women in the village singing
together. Almodóvar’s love for these women and many others, his
observations of their behavior, and his ear for their stories are apparent in
all his creative work. I often think if we wanted to represent our (Mediterranean,
Black Sea, Balkan, Latin American …) mothers collectively, it can be done through the
archive of Almodóvar’s films.
In The Guardian interview for Dolor y Gloria, where Antonio Banderas plays the protagonist, Almodóvar says “I felt like a mother who has lost her son” when talking about Banderas leaving Spain for a career in Hollywood. In this light, I would like to conclude this post by wishing all who has ever mothered someone a Happy Mother’s Day, including Pedro Almodóvar.
