Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988)

Surprisingly incoherent and boring

A movie that not only functions as a solid scarefest but a razor-sharp satire.

Actress is magnificent and exudes a hypnotic screen presence in this affecting drama.

There's a more than satisfactory amount of boom-boom in the movie's trim running time.

Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown operates in a farcical world of comic proportions, propelled by the strange magic of Pedro Almodóvar. He makes films like no other; melodramas in an age where the word itself is a smear, an adjective designed to signal ludicrous love plots, overly theatrical acting, music which swoons and sighs. The film has all this, and then some. Look to his mise-en-scene, dyed luridly in a technicolor mash of crimson, deep blue and burnt sienna, as if even the furniture is flushed from all the passion in the air. When Pepa is unexpectedly left by her boyfriend, the world turns tospy turvy, and the result of her quest to discover the truth (it's never quite a straightforward explanation) is a romp reminiscent of an old school Hollywood screwball, where the characters seem to walk and talk in fast motion, throw themselves at new plot revelations, and are held hostage to their emotions. And Almodóvar would not have it any other way. The plot is the plot, which is to say it is a clothesline onto which increasing ridiculous situations are hung onto the main story-line, and Pepa is continually sidetracked in her mission. The first of these obstacles is her best friend Candela, who has been romanced and abandoned all in the same weekend, and now fancies suicide via jumping over the balcony. Then it's revealed her love affair was with a wanted Shiite terrorist, which suddenly ramps up the drama, and brings police into the fold (and the apartment). Also visiting is Carlos, son of Pepa's lover, and her haughty girlfriend, who are real-estate hunting and become unwillingly wrapped up in the whole mess. Almodóvar's penchant for genre mish-mash reveals itself here, constructing a locked room of increasing complexity and convoluted love triangles (or is it a rectangle, pentagon...), a revolving door of incensed bit characters who all crave the spotlight. Nearly all of them are women. As per the title, women fling themselves into pits for love, willingly embarrass themselves in these pursuits (notice the visual gag with the taxi driver's eye-drops, riffing on the genre of weepies), begin to concoct all kinds of tall tales in their heads. Almodovar's women are bravely undignified, operate at a furious, screwball pace, and come in all shapes and sizes. He may be one of the few directors to continually spotlight middle-aged love, grief and desire in the feminine form. There is no judgement here, only empathy and understanding. He casts Rossy de Palma who looks and speaks the part of an antagonistic witch, but look who is cheating on her while she is unconscious: her slimy, boyish partner. And see her value in the final scene, where Pepa has been chasing an absent masculine presence for the entire film only to find solace right beside her. Almodóvar's early films were the celebratory fireworks of a cultural explosion in post-fascist Spain. His initial comedies were instantly recognisable for their striking, campy style, showcasing never before screened minorities, flirting with boundaries of sexuality and gender through vibrant mise-en-scene, emotive music and outrageous costume and makeup. As he matured as a filmmaker, he recognised the potential for further playing in and between these fiery caricatures, using them as not merely flashy rebellion but as a way of investigating and rebuking common stereotypes, particularly of women. The initial scenes show the film wresting with these; Pepa and Ivan are both voice actors for trashy romance films, filling in for younger, more attractive starlets, with Pepa herself seemingly unable to reconcile the screen and the reality of her own love life. Ivan's voice is hinted to be the common factor in all his flings; women flock like fireflies to the film star's rich baritone. Pepa is one of those flies, and cannot stand to be discarded. Almodóvar further plays with his images. The set design of Pepa's coveted penthouse is key, with shiny baubles and trinkets set up in all corners, globes, lamps, statues and other trash scattered through the rooms. The plants are green, too green, and probably fake - it's a tapestry of kitsch. The terrace aggressively pursues that Californian dream, with tacky beach apparel, palm trees and a view to die for. But Pepa is too busy to even appreciate it, least of all when Candela is about to climb over (look who is the only one to realise), instead rushing around all town in search of her lost man. Only when she finally admits to all this silliness and discards that part of her life does she have the chance to sit down and really gaze at the skyline. The chase is over, the loose ends have been tied up, her secret revealed (the film is basically a two hour set up for a pregnancy brain joke). She is at peace. Her life isn't so bad after all.

The tiny subplot referencing Shiite terrorists is not funny in this 21st century but if you can forgive that, this is an 80s treasure in any language. Great performances from all the women, with Carmen Maura in the lead. Women on the Verge is one of Almodovar's best and most beloved, bursting with good energy, bright colors and sad love songs, it's a celebration of life and movies and an 89-minute trip to big city Spain. The narrative is a bit complicated and fast-paced, and American viewers are unlikely to catch everything on first viewing, but relax and have fun. You'll probably want to see this classic 80s comedy more than once.

excerpt, full review at my location.Director Pedro Almodovar shot to international fame in 1988 when Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown was released. It was nominated for an Oscar and won numerous other awards, as well as smashing box office records in Spain. It is a stylish black comedy that oozes visual flair and a sharp sense of humour from start to finish. It is easy to see why this film was so successful and why Pedro Almodovar has become such a cult icon. Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown, although slightly dated, has an incredible amount of charm, a great sense of visual style and a quirky wit that makes it a very enjoyable movie. If you are new to Almodovar, then this is the best film to introduce you to him. Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown is undeniably a grand landmark in Spanish film.

Great fun, as Almodovar's visual sophistication continues to expand from film to film, and his ability to create a subtle mix of the campy, the surreal, and real emotion grows ever stronger. Full of odd and silly twists and turns, and populated by absurd but still very human characters. It's also a film with a theme - the amazing strength and resilience of women. So why not a 10 star rating for a film a lot of smart people consider a flat-out masterpiece?. Maybe I need to re-see it a third time, but on recent round of working my way through all of Almodovar's films it felt paper thin. I enjoyed it, but it didn't feel like a film that would stick with me, or effect me. In some ways, I found the far more flawed 'Matador' has more unforgettable images, moments and challenging power. That said, this is still very worth your time.