Almodovar's "Skin" Is Thick

Antonio Banderas and Elena Anaya  (popcornandcandy)

The release of a new Almodovar film is always a cause for delight, and "The Skin I Live In" is no exception. The Spanish master's first film in two years, it is yet another deliriously dense mixture of drama and kitsch, and is one of his most memorable works.

On the surface, "Skin" is noteworthy for the reunion of Almodovar with his most famous creation, Antonio Banderas. The director helped launch Banderas' career when he cast the young actor in several of his early films, most notably "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown"(1988), an Oscar nominee for Best Foreign Film. It is a natural fit, the two men working together again, yet one can't help but wonder how Banderas might have flourished as an actor first, movie star second, had the two not parted ways back over 20 years ago.

The Banderas we see in "Skin" is both more seasoned an actor, and cast in one of his most complex, challenging roles. He is no longer the strikingly handsome man of his youth, but instead has a weathered look that belies his 51 years. One can't help but wonder if the Hollywood lifestyle has had an impact on his more mature looks. One advantage to his age is that he is not only experienced, but prepared to rise to the challenge working with Almodovar inevitably presents to an actor. Usually known for creating extraordinary roles for women, this time Banderas is front and center, and gives one of his most compelling performances as the typically obsessive physician at the heart of "Skin."

Good as Banderas is, this being an Almodovar joint, there is much going on to savor. Almodovar regular Marisa Paredes plays the maternal figure with a mixture of pathos and deception, and Elena Anaya is both gorgeous and captivating as the object of desire. Not only is this as rich a visual experience as any of his films, from the exquisite cinematography to the sumptuous art direction, but there are at least two other main story lines that are interwoven. The other chief narratives involve the housekeeper of Banderas' surgeon, and the woman he is secretly holding hostage, a prisoner in his lavish home.

Like David Lynch, another post-modern master, Almodovar both possesses a uniquely original style, and freely borrows from various genres to create works that are both fresh and also rich with homage, reference, and irony. Where Lynch is fascinated with surrealism, incidentally a genre the Spanish championed, Almodovar is drawn more to the references of another American master, Todd Haynes, in his fixation on melodrama, the women's pictures of Douglas Sirk, and the passionate melodramas of Fassbinder. While Haynes is a more obvious artistic companion, his work is too diverse stylistically for a readily identifiable style a la Lynch and Almodovar, whose works are more of a piece visually. Stlll, all three are among our most accomplished, living filmmakers.

The film's audacious premise, venturing more resolutely into sci-fi and horror territory than Almodovar has previously dared, works because we are in the hands of an utter master of the layered, engrossing film. Almodovar's oeuvre is not only abundant but quite consistent, and one of the few filmmakers whose name is largely synonymous with essential cinema.