`All About My Mother' cries desperately to be a moving and important study of women's roles in society, but, by trying to compress so many of the eccentricities of life into one story, the film leaves us more incredulous and perplexed than stimulated and touched. But does the film really merit all these critical hosannas and kudos? Not by a long shot! Jaded as we may be by the deadening predictability and lack of originality that, sadly, define the majority of films released each year, it is, nevertheless, still incumbent upon us not to be bowled over by a film that takes the alternate path of undisciplined bizarreness. Certainly, the critics have not been stingy in heaping effusive praise on the work and both the Motion Picture Academy and the Foreign Press Golden Globe committee have echoed that praise by bestowing on the film their coveted awards for Best Foreign Language Film of 1999. As it is, we spend most of the movie staring in head-scratching amazement at the sheer audacity of the enterprise. Even if the film had dealt with only half of these issues, it would still be a challenge to maintain some sort of overall focus.
In its relatively brief 102-minute running time, it provides a literal smorgasbord of sensational plot elements: a fatal car accident, a dead teenaged son, organ transplantation, transvestite prostitutes, lesbianism, pregnant nuns, drug addiction, AIDS, Alzheimer's, and death by childbirth more than enough juicy elements to warm the heart of any lover of classic melodrama or daytime soap operas.
One thing is for certain: you sure can't accuse Pedro Almodovar's `All About My Mother' of narrative timidity.
0 kommentar(er)
