PAIN AND GLORY (2019)


A film director reflects on the choices he's made in life as the past and present come crashing down around him.

Pain and Glory is directed by Pedro Almodóvar, a veteran Spanish filmmaker that has released a film every two to three years, for the last four decades. Almodóvar is an ageing gay filmmaker, that was raised by his mother and sent to study at a religious boarding school. Our film's lead, Salvador Mallo (played by Antonio Banderas), is an ageing gay filmmaker, that was raised by his mother and sent to study at a religious boarding school. To say that Pain and Glory is Almodóvar's most personal film yet, and is quite autobiographical, well, it would be an understatement.


How much of Almodóvar is in our film's protagonist? Well, his name can be found within Salvador Mallo's with a few extra characters thrown in; perhaps a metaphor for the influences of the story. Banderas sports the greying electrified hair of Almodóvar, wearing some of the director's own shirts, acting within a set, designed as a replica of the Almodóvar's Madrid home. The line between reality and fiction is blurred here that you have to assume they are both one and the same.


This is not a cinematic film in the sense of the traditional well-paced narrative. This is a deeply personal character exploration, that mostly takes place within a single apartment, or in flashbacks. There is no set destination or outcome to this story, it simply looks at events made him what he is today. As such, much of the film is non-linear, leaving only the development of Banderas' character and relationships to keep the audience engaged.


Despite the measured pace of the film, there is something oddly cathartic about Pain and Glory. There is that self-deprecating humour that laughs in the face of unending pain and constant suffering that the millennial generation can truly get behind and understand on a molecular level. Contrasted by the bold, bright, and vibrant colours that Almodóvar is known for, there is a deep passion and powerful soul within the character, restrained only by fragile physical health.


So much of the emotional tension in the film rides on Banderas brilliant performance. The camera gets right up close and accentuates every wrinkle, every grimace, every iota of anger and stress, and then the opposing sense of release and relief, all from just the face.


The relationships that Banderas has with both Asier Etxeandia and Leonardo Sbaraglia are magnetic. An unrelenting force of creation or destruction, there is no middle ground, but it is clear to see that over time Banderas' Salvador Mallo has evolved as a person and is open to healing those wounds from his past.


While there is more than its fair share of plot convenience, Pain and Glory is a moving exploration of Salvador Mallo, and his relationships--both past and present--with his working partner, his mother, and his lover. It certainly isn't a high energy affair, but it still moves.