Cannes: Antonio Banderas as a suave neo-Frankenstein
Pedro Almodovar's latest reunites him with an '80s star in a twisty tale of a mad doctor and his female subject
Topics: Cannes Film Festival, Broken Embraces, Our Picks, Movies, Pedro Almodovar, Entertainment News
CANNES, France — Women drive men crazy, and women are of course already crazy. And then there are the men driven crazy by their love of other men. Doesn’t that more or less sum up the worldview of Pedro Almodóvar, the great Spanish cinematic showman and stylist, who seems to combine Luis Buñuel, Alfred Hitchcock and the spirit of 1940s Hollywood in one person, like a triune god of the movies? As almost the only film in the main Cannes competition that was absolutely guaranteed to be entertaining, as well as the last likely contender for the Palme d’Or, Almodóvar’s twisty horror-thriller “The Skin I Live In” premiered on Thursday at an overstuffed press screening that filled the 2,300-seat Grand Théâtre Lumière right to the rafters. I found a seat in the far right upper reaches of the balcony and clung to it eagerly, while 30 or 40 people wandered through the area with increasingly hopeless expressions.
They don’t sell popcorn at Cannes (in fact, you can’t bring any food or drink into the auditorium), which is too bad, because “The Skin I Live In” delivers more of an old-school moviegoing experience than anything else here this year. It’s recognizably an Almodóvar film from the first frames, when we see a mysterious beauty we’ll later know as Vera (Elena Anaya) striking yoga poses while wearing an odd, flesh-colored body stocking. But “The Skin I Live In” is genre-movie Pedro, Hitchcock-en-español Pedro, a fair bit icier and less emotional than the female-centric melodramas he’s made recently with Penélope Cruz. Another one-time Almodóvar muse, Antonio Banderas, who starred in “Matador” and “Law of Desire” way back when, has returned to the fold, this time playing Dr. Robert Ledgard, a sinister surgeon with a sleek Jean-Paul Gaultier wardrobe who has Vera locked in the basement.
We won’t find out exactly who or what Vera is for some time, and I promise not to drop any major clues. But she’s clearly the object of a Frankensteinian obsession, and the subject of experiments that Ledgard — Almodóvar loves these pseudo-American names, which always sound borrowed from film noir or Douglas Sirk melodrama — is performing with his super-strong, genetically engineered artificial skin. Despite their sadomasochistic relationship, or perhaps because of it, Vera seems to have fallen in love with Ledgard, and it seems that the coldblooded mad scientist has begun to reciprocate. That’s when Zeca (Roberto Álamo), the thuggish son of Ledgard’s housekeeper (Almodóvar regular Marisa Paredes), arrives on the scene — and appears to recognize Vera as his former lover, although she can’t remember him. That triggers a series of violent events and, more important, begins to unzip the past histories of all these characters.




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