365 Day Movie Challenge (2019) - #170: Live Flesh (1997) - dir. Pedro Almodóvar
Live Flesh represents a turning point in Pedro Almodóvar’s career, muting the director’s typical palette and sense of humor to create a tough, multilayered drama of crime, carnality, jealousy and retribution. Almodóvar, Jorge Guerricaechevarría and Ray Loriga adapted English novelist Ruth Rendell’s 1986 thriller of the same name by moving the story to Madrid, spanning decades to illustrate the tortuous love triangle between cop-turned-basketball-player David de Paz (Javier Bardem), ex-con Víctor Plaza (Liberto Rabal) and the woman they both love, Elena Benedetti (Francesca Neri).
We learn in the film’s ten-minute prologue - one of only a few parts of the film that can obviously be recognized as Almodóvar’s style since most of Live Flesh lacks his distinct aesthetic - that Víctor was born in the middle of the night on a city bus in 1970, the only child of teen mom Isabel Plaza Caballero (Penélope Cruz in her first collaboration with Almodóvar). Because both Isabel and Víctor miraculously survived the ordeal of childbirth, it initially seemed that Víctor was born lucky, but when we fast forward a couple of decades, he’s not doing so well. Incensed that a drug-addicted young woman, Elena, has rejected him after a one-night stand, Víctor bursts into her apartment armed with a gun. In the ensuing showdown with local police, a shot goes off and one of the cops, David, is hit. The film then zooms through several years of history, in which we learn that David was paralyzed from the waist down and became a Paralympian basketball player, Elena got clean and married David, and Víctor was jailed for four years. Upon release, Víctor immediately pursues Elena, a decision that causes her happy marriage to fall apart.
Further tangling the emotional briar patch, Víctor embarks on an affair with Clara (Ángela Molina), the lonely wife of David’s former partner on the force, Sancho (José Sancho). These intertwined liaisons culminate in a torrent of lust and violence that never feel quite as melodramatic as one would expect from this filmmaker, although there are a couple of bold sex scenes that are pure Almodóvar (albeit in a repetitive way since the “shocking” incorporation of cunnilingus was something the director had done previously in High Heels). Similarly, the ending depicting a pregnant character’s rush to the hospital was copied from High Heels too, as well as recalling Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! in that a woman ends up falling in love (or at least being worn down to the point that she agrees to be in a relationship) with her stalker. Live Flesh is definitely an outlier in its director’s filmography when compared to other works that bear stronger marks of his artistry, yet it is still a production that is well worth seeing.