OSCARS 2020: Pain & Glory (2019)

I'll admit I'm not specially familiar with the films of Pedro Almodovar. It's a blind spot I should probably correct, seeing as the kinky melodramas he specializes in sound right up my alley. (The only one of his films I've seen previously is “The Skin I Live In,” which I didn't like very much.) I do know enough about Almodovar to know he helped turned Antonio Banderas into one of our greatest, most underrated movie stars. This partnership has led Banderas to what is, somehow, only his first Academy Award nomination. “Pain & Glory” has earned Banderas some of the best reviews of his career. While a win is uncertain, due to the 1000 pound clown in the room, it's great to see such a magnetic star finally get he recognition he deserves.

Salvador Mallo is a famous Spanish director who hasn't worked in several years. A number of physical and neurological conditions have made him a pill-dependent recluse. Memories of his impoverished childhood still haunt him. An anniversary screening of one of Mallo's movies has him reconnecting with Alberto Crespo, a former leading man of his that he last saw on bad terms. Crespo introduces Salvador to heroin, causing a chain reaction that brings the past back into Mallo's life.

“Pain & Glory” is a contemplative film intimately concerned with how memories reflect on our current lives. The very first scene has Salvador floating, almost dreaming, recalling an episode from his youth. It's not an event that seems especially important yet it sticks with Mallo none the less. That's how it is, sometimes. Almodovar doesn't show us the life-changing stuff – his father's disappearance, Salvador's filmmaking career, his mother's death – but instead focuses on a childhood summer that lingers in the mind. The small, inconsequential things are what stick with you the most. This theme is also apparent in the wooden egg Sal's mother used to mend his boyhood socks, which becomes a treasured possession when he rediscovers it as an adult. This is a more accurate depiction of memory than most film's attempt. Especially with how Salvador can drift into a recollection without much prompt. The past is never really done with us and that's something “Pain & Glory” understands.

Salvador's fixation on his past might be why heroin is such an appealing drug to him. His first use of the drug triggers a long flashback. It kills his pain and lulls him into a relaxed state. From there, “Pain & Glory” becomes a compelling depiction of a “functional” drug addict. Salvador doesn't use every day, just a few times a week. He smokes the drug, instead of shooting up like most cinematic junkies do. We don't see the crashing, the vomiting, or the other unpleasant side effects of heroin. Don't think the film is glamorizing drug use though. Salvador still puts himself in danger to buy the drug. We see him slowly ceding control to his addiction, doing it more often, the next high always being on his mind. And it's not just heroin. Sal literally gulps painkillers, crushing them into powder and dissolving them in water. He casually snorts cocaine, unaware that it makes him a huge asshole. His drug use is understandable, considering his chronic pain. Yet Almodovar is making a point, that not all addicts look like the junkie shivering on the street.

“Pain & Glory” is obviously many things. But it's mostly a showcase for Antonio Banderas' acting skills. It's some of the most soulful performing of his career. He resist every showy impulse. Instead, Banderas plays things close to the chest. Yet a sea of secret emotion swirls behind his eyes. This is most evident when Salvador encounters an old boyfriend of his. There's so much he wants to say, so much he longs to do. But to act on these feelings would only make things more awkward. Banderas says all of that with just a glance or a sad smile. Almodavor's colorful direction often makes us privy to the thoughts in Mallo's head. In an early montage, against a slideshow of flashing images, the history of the character's career and illnesses are laid bare. What could have been blatant exposition becomes poetry, as Banderas' iconic, sensual voice explains one thing after another in rapid succession. It's overwhelming and that's exactly how Sal feels every day.

“Pain & Glory” could potentially be seen as a messy film. It doesn't give every aspect of Mallo's life equal time. The details of his directing career are only mentioned in passing. While the origins of his homosexuality are explored, more is implied than outright depicted. But who can complain when the rest of the film is so beautifully brought to life? “Pain & Glory” is, I suspect, somewhat autobiographical for Almodovar, if the meta ending is anything to go by. If the rest of his filmography is this graceful, touching, funny and fantastically acted, than I suppose I need to give more of his a shot. [8/10]