Not because everything is fine. But because you survived.
Every outfit is a masterpiece of controlled hysteria. The wet-look hair. The oversized sunglasses. The jewelry that clinks like a warning. These women are falling apart, but they refuse to look like it. That’s not vanity. That’s armor. My favorite character might be the taxi driver (Guillermo Montesinos). He doesn’t have a name that matters. He just shows up, listens, drives, and waits. In a world of men who lie (Iván), abandon (Iván again), or confuse (the militant boyfriend), the taxi driver is the quiet hero. He’s the one who asks, “Where to?” and actually takes you there. women on the verge of a nervous breakdown
Pour yourself a gazpacho (hold the pills). And remember: sometimes the best thing you can do when you’re on the verge is to let yourself fall—and land on a mambo beat. Further reading: Pair this with All About My Mother or Volver for Almodóvar’s complete love letter to flawed, fierce, fabulous women. Not because everything is fine
It sounds like a farce. It is a farce. But underneath the slamming doors and the primary colors is a razor-sharp look at how women are expected to swallow their rage. Let’s talk about that red. The wet-look hair
30+ years later, Almodóvar’s masterpiece still knows exactly what it’s like to lose it—and look fabulous doing it.