Another reason is that Parallel Mothers is written and directed by Pedro Almodóvar, who has been at the top of his formidable powers for more than twenty years now. Between 1999 and 2019, he wrote and directed eight pictures that have ranged in quality between terrific and absolutely phenomenal, from the Oscar-winning All About My Mother through Pain and Glory, measured against just one mediocrity, the rather silly I’m So Excited (2013). Eight superlative movies out of nine is an amazing run for any director; and Parallel Mothers, I’m happy to report, is yet another in that first category.
Parallel Mothers is, as the title suggests, a movie about mothers and motherhood. A secondary theme, perhaps equally or even more important to the film’s creator, contemplates a reckoning with the legacy of political oppression and state sanctioned murder dating back to the Spanish Civil War and the long dictatorship of Generalissimo Francisco Franco, which ended with his death in 1975. The film was made in 2021, over 80 years after the civil war and more than 45 years subsequent to the death of Franco, from which the restoration of democratic governance followed. It is a reckoning long overdue. More on that later.
This being an Almodóvar picture, you might expect that its concerns cover a lot more territory as well. And you’d be correct. It’s a film about selfishness and selflessness, about ancestors living and deceased, about acknowledging truth and righting wrongs, and about the power of all kinds of love – maternal, familial, romantic and even patriotic – to effect change.The movie covers a period of three years. As it opens, Janis meets Arturo [Israel Elejalde], while photographing a publicity piece. One thing leads to another, and the next thing we know Janis finds herself pregnant. Although Arturo is in love with her, he can’t commit to acknowledge his paternity. He has valid reasons, which Janis understands but is nonetheless unhappy about; so she breaks it off with him. She plans to have their baby regardless.
But as I suggested earlier, Parallel Mothers might be seen as two movies in one. In addition to the domestic maternal dramas found in the stories of Janis and Ana, Almodóvar wants to dramatize what the legacy of Franco’s murderous dictatorship has meant and still represents for Spain. This is a history of what’s been called political genocide, a history that was suppressed and denied while the regime was in power and largely ignored for many years after.
Following Franco’s death, both rightist and leftist parties agreed that it would be best to avoid confronting the torture, mass killings and political repression that characterized his regime, in the interest of fostering reconciliation and a smooth transition to democracy. Their informal agreement, known as the Pact of Forgetting, eschewed investigation or prosecution of those responsible for atrocities and human rights violations. This agreement was formalized a couple years later with the 1977 Amnesty Law. Over the last twenty years, criticism of the Amnesty Law has steadily been increasing. In 2000, an NGO called the Association for the Recovery of Historical Memory (ARMH) was formed by a group of forensic archaeologists, and anthropologists to collect testimonials about Franco’s so-called ‘White Terror’, to identify the many sites of mass graves around the country, and to exhume and identify, to the extent possible, the bodies of murdered people dumped there.
All of which brings us back to Arturo – Janis’s lover and the father of her child. Arturo is a forensic archeologist working with ARMH. After the photo shoot alluded to in the first scene of Parallel Mothers, Janis takes the opportunity to ask for Arturo’s help in unearthing a site near her hometown where she believes her great grandfather was murdered and buried during the White Terror, along with most of the town’s menfolk. Even eighty years later, the residue of that atrocity has left a large hole in the hearts of the victims’ families and descendants, as Janis attests. Arturo agrees to do what he can to help, but it will take some time to get approval, funding etc.Toward the end of the picture, Arturo reappears with news that the project has been approved. Reconstructing and documenting what happened so long ago through testimony, DNA evidence and other clues is a difficult, painstaking task. For example, Janis’s grandmother was only three years old when her father was taken away. Her primary recollections are how scary it was when the soldiers came and how, when her daddy was taken away, he was holding her toy rattle – which she never saw again. As the movie concludes, the excavation has uncovered a number of the remains. A large group of the townspeople and descendants of the dead walk out to the former killing field to honor their ancestors. And to reflect on their tragic shared history.
It was a very moving moment for me (although I’d imagine this ending is even more meaningful and affecting for a Spanish audience) - a moment that brings home why it is so important to engage with our history, particularly relatively modern history, and to confront the dark, difficult, and even shameful actions that may be found there. Because only by such reflection and acknowledgement can society move forward and set about making things better. This is not just a Spanish question. Remarkably, the simple idea of acknowledging historical truth is now a highly controversial item right here in the United States.The problem with the two-movies-in-one idea, for me anyway, is the sense I had that the Janis/Ana maternal drama on the one hand, and the recovery of historical memory part on the other did not seem well melded. I liked each piece a lot, but they seemed scotch taped together. Making the whole less than the sum of its parts.
Then, as I was writing this, I read Anthony Lane’s review of Parallel Mothers in the latest issue of The New Yorker [January 3 & 10, 2022]. Lane saw a parallel between the Spanish consciousness in the post-Franco period and Janis’s response to the problem at the center of her and Ana’s situation. Both cases involved magical thinking. Mother Spain and Mother Janis were both trying to deal with a most uncomfortable truth by pretending it did not exist, hoping that in time ‘the problem’ would just go away. In both cases: nope.
I think Lane is right. My appreciation of the movie has deepened as a result. But I still think Almodóvar ought to have woven his themes together more seamlessly. I confess that I’m not clear just how.
That said, Parallel Mothersis still very much a beautiful, absorbing, provocative film, with an intriguing, twisty story, truly remarkable acting (including one of Penelope Cruz’s most memorable performances,) lovely cinematography and – as with all Almodóvar pictures – unsurpassed attention to mise en scene. I highly recommend it.I hold Almodovar to an unusually high standard because, well, because so many of his movies are so great. From any other writer/director I would have graded Parallel Mothers with an A. For an Almodóvar film, however, it gets an A- . Go see it.
123 minutes Rated R [for “some sexuality”]
Grade: A-
Currently screening in New York and L.A. Rolling out to theaters nationwide, beginning January 7, 2022. For example, in the SF Bay area: 1/7 in Embarcadero Center Cinema and Alamo Drafthouse in SF; 1/14 in Berkeley, San Jose and San Rafael; 1/28 in Santa Cruz and Regal Stonestown Galleria, SF. Check your local listings.
Streaming date not yet announced.
No comments:
Post a Comment