Talk to Her

Described as suspenseful, tragic, and comedic, “Talk to Her” is suspenseful, and tragic, but I could find nothing humorous in this provocative, and stimulating yet disturbing and all socially, spiritually, and artistically complicated 14th film by Spanish writer/director Pedro Almodovar. The complicated part is what makes this one of the most difficult reviews I have written to date.

Revolving around the obsessions of the sexually ambiguous nurse Benigno (Javier Camara), who cares for those who can’t care for themselves and obsesses over everything they themselves are obsessed with. The main object of Benigno’s attention and affection (which is where the complications begin) is a patient in a persistent vegetative state (PVS). She ended up in Benigno’s facility a week after the voyeuristic Benigno fell in love with her while watching her out the window dancing at the ballet studio across the street from the apartment he lives in with his recently deceased mother. The mother whom he cared for exclusively (neglecting his own needs entirely) until her death. This is where the inappropriate juxtaposition of caregiver and cared for begins and continues with just about every relationship Almodovar has created in this Oscar winning screenplay.

Resonating with the nurse viewer may be Benigno’s insistence that the comatose patient can hear everything you say, (hence the title “Talk to Her”), his belief that outward beauty is still as important as inner health in promoting healing, and that caring for the infirmed is a privilege. Benigno tells his friend Marco (Dario Grandinetti) whose bullfighter girlfriend is also stricken with PVS “the last four years have been the richest of my life taking care of Alicia”, provoking two reactions at once: how beautiful and how sad. Resonations aside, repulsion is abound with accusations of patient sexual abuse, breaches of patient confidentiality, and the offbeat portrayal of most of the other nurses in the film. The two reactions now: how sad and how pathetic.

This is how the entire movie goes, contrasting ideals smashed together in the name of art. Layer and layer upon allegorical themes seemingly meant to jerk the viewer away from everything they think is true about life. Those who are attracted to the kind of social allegory this movie presents should be prepared for some bizarre side stories like when Benigno is describing to Alicia a silent film he went to see about a shrinking man who climbs all over and inside his lover’s body. Or when Benigno’s Alicia (Leonor Watling) and Lydia (Rosario Flores) the bullfighter and goring victim locked in by the affliction of PVS are propped out on the terrace at the hospital in brightly colored robes, fully made up with cosmetics and sunglasses.

And so, “Talk to Her” twists, turns, and bumps on like the unpaved back roads of Spain, pulling at the strings and lighting the fire of your heart, and perhaps to some, tickling your funny bone. My face was forever stern, and probably wrinkled in perplexity. As an avid Almodovar fan, I truly appreciate the film and will admit it stayed with me for weeks after first viewing it (just what the author intended?). As a critic and a nurse I am not confident to recommend it, but will, with the understanding that nurses are deeply contemplative and imaginative beings that at the least will appreciate the thought provoking challenges presented to the viewer.

“Talk to Her” is rated R
Reviewer Rating: 3 out of 5 boxes of popcorn (2 with my nursing hat on, 4 with my movie and Almodovar loving hat on=3)
Sony Pictures Classics
Written and Directed by: Pedro Almodovar
Spanish with English subtitles

Starring Javier Cámara (Benigno), Darío Grandinetti (Marco), Leonor Watling (Alicia), Rosario Flores (Lydia), Geraldine Chaplin (Katarina), Mariola Fuentes (Rosa) and Lola Dueñas (Matilde).