Live Flesh (1997)

The second film in the "mature phase" of Pedro Almodovar's career, which began with La Flor de Mi Secreto two years earlier, Carne Tremula borrows chunks of its ornate plot from Ruth Rendell's novel Live Flesh. The film's political subtext and messy humanity, however, bear the distinctive stamp of its celebrated director. A deeply felt exploration of the tension between destiny and chance, human will and involuntary longing, Carne Tremula plays a delicate juggling act with competing subplots that slowly reveal their intimate connections. Unlike Paul Thomas Anderson's similarly themed but deeply flawed Magnolia, Almodovar's film zeroes in on its ideas subtly and precisely. The closest the director gets to his well-known affinity for garish excess and picturesque debilities is a few minutes of the haunted, haunting Francesca Neri in a fright wig, and several straight-faced scenes of stand-up guy Javier Bardem playing wheelchair basketball. Elsewhere, it's all tightly coiled passion and darkly libidinous will-to-power -- an urgent directive to get on with life. American audiences might not grasp all the levels of Almodovar's allegory about the legacy of Franco's reign, but most everyone should recognize the contrary passions that propel his characters to desperate acts and unlikely redemptions. Flawlessly acted by Bardem, Neri, Liberto Rabal, and Angela Molina, Carne Tremula offers a darker counterpoint to the tragicomic shadings of 1999's Todo Sobre Mi Madre. ~ Brian J. Dillard, All Movie Guide