Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown
While not my first Almodovar film, this one was it for me. This was the film that made me a fan, that made me seek out his work and fall absolutely mad for it and what cinema in general could really be. I really couldn’t say how many times I’ve seen it. Whenever I crave the satisfaction of watching a very good movie, one both hilarious and tragic and about women that are intelligent, beautiful, yet incredibly and masterfully flawed, I pop this in. Surprisingly, that craving comes up a lot.
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown put Almodovar on the map. It was his most accessible film for the time, lacking the raunchiness and adult material present in much of his earlier films. I was a very tiny two years old when this film was released in 1988 so it’s safe to say that I arrived late to the party. I was probably 11 or 12 when I first saw it, a rental from my local Blockbuster video store. My first memories of it are vague, but I do know I liked as much I could understand. I’ve always known Spanish rather well, but understanding the language outside of the normal day-to-day conversations with my mom took some work, especially that quick paced Spanish accented wit that so relentlessly spilled from every character’s lips. It took a couple viewings to really cement my love and adoration, but it did. In time I was scouring the video stores for anything with Almodovar’s name on it.
The film begins with Pepa, splayed unglamorously on her bed, deep in sleep in her penthouse. Pepa dreams of Ivan, her ex-lover, walking past several women, romancing each one of them, and speaking into a microphone what they would all like to hear. His voice, actually, is a prominent feature in the film. It’s how he and Pepa met, both of them voice actors, but more importantly it’s how he romances and lies. Fernando Guillen plays the role of Ivan and his deep, silken voice, often apologetic and always romantic, fools women. He’s shown dubbing lines in Johnny Guitar and he plays the part so well. Later, after Pepa finally comes to and shows up to do her part as Joan Crawford, Ivan’s voice pipes Sterling Hayden’s lines to her headphones. It’s understandable that she cries and it’s understandable that she faints. Women on the Verge… is an over the top depiction of women on their last wits, but it remains honest and truthful, even if a bit melodramatic and campy.
Carmen Maura as Pepa is excellent. Witty, intelligent and sexy, she is so incredibly raw and brilliant in this film. Even in her outdated 80s clothing and stressed out state I admired her. Maura is not what you’d consider a typical beauty, but her acting and delivery are so great, you fall in love with her. In her mannerisms and style there is this sensuous luster. Almodovar gives her so many choice lines in Women on the Verge… and sadly the effect is a little softened by translation, although not entirely lost. Pepa is so desperate throughout the film to just speak to Ivan, to tell him the important news she’s received from the doctor and his constant avoidance and lies are just winding her up. She makes a batch of gazpacho and then drops a handful of barbiturates into it and declares, “I’m sick of being good.” But Pepa really never stops being good. In comparison to the other women that surround Ivan she’s cool, calm and collected. Even when she bumps into his son, a son she had no idea existed over the course of a long-term relationship, she takes the information in stride and she accepts Carlos (Antonio Banderas) in a way his father or mother have been unable to.
Carlos’ character brings up just one more thing that is incredible about Almodovar. He has a striking ability to bring out the very best in actors. I truthfully cannot say much about Banderas’ work in the United States, except that he’s usually just forced into the stereotypical role of the Latin lover. In his native Spain, however, and in Almodovar’s films he has always been brilliant, demonstrating a complexity of character that is lost in his American roles. In Women on the Verge… he plays the stuttering son of Ivan. Seemingly innocent, he’s still much like his father, making frequent passes at Candela (Maria Barranco, who herself plays an incredibly hilarious character) while his girlfriend Marisa (Rossy De Palma) is passed out on Pepa’s balcony. Still there’s something underlying his brazen attraction toward Candela. When Pepa accidentally refers to him as Ivan, he nods as if accustomed to living in his father’s shadow. It’s been suggested that Carlos has his eye on Pepa as well, although I myself don’t share this sentiment. She impresses him, because she’s an undeniably impressive woman, but I don’t think Carlos is that big a cad.
I really don’t want to reveal too much of the film as the key to enjoying it is in its many plot twists and turns. Still there are so many great small details to this film that I just am dying to gush over. Lucia, Ivan’s wife, who he’s literally drove insane and her bizarre 60’s fashion is just one of those. Julieta Serrano plays her perfectly, countering Pepa’s cool and collected nature with her medical insanity. Even the Mambo Taxi, who happens to pick Pepa up three times, both of those times in order to follow someone, becomes a much beloved and hilarious part of the film. It’s over the top, no doubt, but it’s great nonetheless and I suppose that’s the perfect way to sum up this film. A little on the bizarre side and often unbelievable, it is Almodovar at his best, demonstrating his true knowledge and kinship with women and their complexities and laughing at them a little bit, but also depicting them in a way that’s so truthful it can be insightful.
