We're celebrating Pedro Almodóvar all week. Here's Spencer Coile on his first Oscar nominee...
Almodóvar is always at his best when also at his zaniest. Through a healthy mix of wacky characters and a unique color palette, he manages to imbue his stories with enough humor, drama, and wit to make any skeptic reconsider his artistry. Such is the case with his 1988 film, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. Telling the story of TV actress Pepa (Carmen Maura, Almodóvar most-enduring muse), we are plunged into a world of absurdity, loss, and the cocktails we make to cure us of our loneliness. After serving as his international breakthrough, receiving a Best Foreign Language Film Oscar nomination and inspiring a Broadway musical of the same name, it is no surprise that Women on the Verge has secured its place in the top tier of Almodóvar's filmography...
Taking place all in one day, Women on the Verge follows Pepa after her lover Iván leaves her. Drowning her sorrows in sleeping pills and setting fire to her bed, Pepa finds herself surrounded by chaos: her close friend Candela (María Barranco) inadvertently bedded a terrorist and is now on the run from the law, Iván's son Carlos (Antonio Banderas) pays Pepa a visit with his fiancée Marisa (Rossy de Palma), and Iván's ex-wife Lucía (Julieta Serrano) seeks revenge on all parties, attempting to shoot anyone who dares to stop her. The police get involved, spiked drinks make an apperance, and there's even a climactic chase sequence between Pepa and Lucía. To go into greater detail would be a disservice to Almodóvar's work-- a film that functions both as a comedic spiral of control, but also as a portrait of women attempting to hold onto their relevancy.
Known for her many collaborations with Almodóvar, Carmen Maura holds the film together like the pro she is, playing Pepa as arguably the most crucial woman on the verge of her own nervous breakdown (athough there are many in the same boat here), while serving as the glue that holds all of these storylines together. Making hasty decisions, but always grounding them in humanity, Pepa's journey is one that may seem outlandish... but as is the case with many of Almodóvar's films, it is one that is embedded in its very own rich culture.
Therein lies the real beauty of this 1988 gem: its careful representation of hysteria and the women it depicts. The spanish title for the film reads ataque de nervios, rather than crisis nerviosa (translated to mean nervous breakdown). Ataques de nervios are a Spanish-inspired cultural phenomena during which women experience bouts of negative emotions, which are expressed physically through fainting, acting irrationally, or worse. Bound to the culture in which they are positioned, these moments are often linked to hysteria or panic attacks. This distinction is crucial, because the film plays with the concept of a "nervous breakdown" in a way that honors the women suffering. Sure, the stories are humorous and wild, but that gets at the heart of Almodóvar's style as a writer/director.
Take for instance Lucía. At first it would seem as if she is a woman scorned, only concerned with wreaking havoc on Pepa, on Iván, on anyone who has ruined her life. After all, why else would she ride on the back of a motorcycle to shoot down Iván and his lover at the airport? Instead, Almodóvar seems more interested in peeling back the layers to this woman's fragile state; one that mixed with loneliness and mental illness. It's easy to laugh at the action, but the film's nuanced approach to hysteria that warrants more than just one viewing.
P.S. The stage musical adaptation of Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown may not be as rewarding as the film, but there are still reasons to celebrate it as well (namely: Patti LuPone and Laura Benanti). Still, it feeds into the sheer hysteria that the film depicts. It is a glorious and dizzying look into the madness that many women find themsevles in. But strip away the kooky veneer, and you may catch a glimpse of the very women who are anything but forgotten.