Pedro Almodovar’s Talk to Her is a magnificent film – one of the best I’ve ever seen. Almodovar has been known for daring, unconventional films for many years, but his most recent films have been steadily progressing in the depth of the issues he explores. Almodovar’s favored territory involves excursions into ambiguities of gender. He likes to challenge conventional thinking about gender stereotypes and sexual morality. His previous successes are many, but most notable among them are Live Flesh and All About My Mother (see my review at All About My Mother). Talk to Her is his best film to date, which is high praise considering the critical acclaim that was rightly directed toward All About My Mother.

The Story: In the opening scene, two men unknown to one another are seated together at a modern ballet theater performance. One, Marco Zuluaga (Dario Grandinetti), is moved to tears by what he is watching. The other, Benigno Martin (Javier Camara), is impressed that the gentleman sitting beside him is moved in this way. So impressed, in fact, that he describes the circumstance to his patient when he returns to work. Benigno, you see, is a male nurse who works at a nearby hospital. What’s surprising about his communication, however, is that his beautiful young female patient, Alicia (Leonor Watling), is comatose and has been for the last four years. He believes that talking to her provides her with mental stimulation that may either help to improve her condition or, at least, provide her with comfort.

Meanwhile, Marco, we learn, is an Argentinean journalist who writes travel pieces. Watching television, he sees an interview being conducted by a local gossip-monger with a famous female bullfighter named Lydia (Rosario Flores). He is fascinated and asks his editor’s permission to do a piece on the bullfighter. Given the go-ahead, he approaches Lydia. She is in need of a lift home and offers to talk with him if he’ll drive her there. When she discovers that he knows nothing about bullfighting, she refuses his request for an interview, not wanting to deal with more questions about her personal life and her past affair with Nino de Valencia (Adolfo Fernandez), a male bullfighter. When they reach her home, Marco is about to drive off, when he hears Lydia scream and sees her race out of her house. She has seen a snake in her kitchen and is terrified by snakes. Marco kills the snake but Lydia notices that he is crying as he dumps it in the trash. When asked, he explains that it brought back memories of a previous relationship that he has not entirely gotten over. Lydia is impressed by the combination of his courage and his sensitivity. One thing leads to another and they become involved romantically.

Bit by bit, we learn that Marco was previously married to Angela (Elena Ayana). Though it ended ten years earlier, Marco is still dealing with the rejection. He invests inordinately in convincing Lydia that he is finally over Angela, thereby convincing us and her that he really isn’t. For that matter, Lydia is not entirely over her last romance with Nino. Marco drives Lydia to the location of her next bullfight. As they arrive, Lydia indicates to Marco that she has something she needs to tell him, but Marco is so wrapped up in ensuring her that he is over Angela, that she doesn’t get the chance to communicate her concern before they arrive. Now she must concentrate on her job and they will talk later.

In a gorgeously shot scene, we see her donning her bullfighters outfit. In the ring, she is the essence of magnificence. The bull emerges and suddenly it charges Lydia and she is badly gored. She is rushed to the hospital in a coma – the same hospital where Benigno works and Alicia lies comatose. Marco blames himself for Lydia’s accident, for some irrational reason. In the hospital, Marco accidentally encounters Benigno ministering care to Alicia. Benigno invites him into her room and recognizes him from their near-encounter at the ballet. Marco, who is desperate for understanding about how to cope with Lydia and her coma, notices that Benigno talks with Alicia as he tends to her physical needs by massage, grooming, and bathing. In the days ahead, all of Lydia’s other friends and acquaintances gradually run out of patience or ability to deal with the situation and return to their own lives, leaving Marco alone with her. Marco and Benigno begin to develop a friendship based on the commonality of their situations and temperaments.

Benigno explains his own background to Marco and how he came to be a male nurse. As a boy and adolescent, Benigno cared for his invalid mother. At the same time, he studied to become a nurse and took home-based courses in hair-styling and manicure as well. After his mother died, he spotted Alicia one day from the window of his apartment at a dance studio across the street, operated by Katerina Boliva (Geraldine Chaplin). He was immediately smitten. One day he saw her drop her wallet and seized the opportunity to meet her, retrieving her wallet and delivering it to her. Noticing that her father was a psychiatrist, he later scheduled an appointment with him in the hopes that it would enable him to run into Alicia again. He did see her briefly but also stole one of her hairclips as s kind of keepsake. Soon thereafter, however, Alicia was hit by an automobile and rendered unconscious. Benigno and a female nurse were then hired as a team by Alicia’s father to provide Alicia with constant care.

Other than Benigno and the female nurse, the only other person who continues to see Alicia is her former dance instructor and surrogate mother, Katerina. Katerina, who understands the core of human feeling better than the average person because of her profession, appreciates that Benigno treats Alicia with sensitive care and not like some kind of lost cause or subhuman vegetable. In one lovely scene, Marco and Benigno bring their respective comatose women, in blankets and wearing sunglasses, out onto a balcony for some fresh air. For a moment, one can almost forget that two of the four at this impromptu balcony party are not at all conscious. Marco begins to understand the value of treating a comatose patient as a living breathing person. His lesson, however, has little time to be applied because Nino shows up and informs Marco that what Lydia had been intending to tell him was that she was going to get back together with Nino. Nino is determined to take on the role of being there for Lydia in her comatose state and, this time, Marco is ready to let go.

CONSIDER SKIPPING THE REST OF “THE STORY” SECTION OF THIS REVIEW TO AVOID SPOILERS

Marco is off the hook. As he prepares to leave the hospital, he has a final conversation with Benigno that causes him considerable alarm. Benigno informs Marco that he wants to marry Alicia. Marco quite sensibly points out to him that Alicia is incapable in even the remotest way of indicating consent. Benigno, however, seems undeterred, insisting that he and Alicia get along better than most couples (he’s probably right about that!).

Benigno visits a movie theater and sees a silent film (a pastime that he had previously learned to be a favorite of Alicia). The film he sees is erotic and as he describes it to Alicia, the audience sees it as well. It is a film within a film, but far from typical fare. It tells of a man who samples an elixir made by his beloved that is supposed to help people lose weight. Instead, it causes him to shrink to approximately the size of a – well – a man’s organ. Later, the two marry and as his full-sized wife sleeps, the man climbs blissfully over the mountains before descending into the valley below. In the valley, discovery something resembling a cave, he plunges in, to the immense satisfaction of his sleeping bride. Thus, triple-XXX and Freud are together at last, with the unification of explicit sex and the primordial urge to return to the womb. It’s not sex for real but it sure is sex for surreal.

Later, the hospital staff discovers that Alicia is pregnant. Obviously, she has been raped. Although Benigno seems in some respects like the obvious suspect, some of the staff are convinced that he is gay and therefore, in their simplistic view, could not be the guilty party. It turns out that he is, however, and Benigno is soon in jail. Marco reads that Lydia has passed away and calls the hospital, asking to speak to Benigno. He is surprised to learn that Benigno no longer works there. He asks to speak with the female nurse who worked with Benigno and is informed that Benigno is in jail. He rushes back to do what he can to help his friend. Benigno is awaiting trial but his only real interest is to find out how Alicia and the baby are doing. Marco is prohibited from telling Benigno by Benigno’s lawyer, who is convinced that Benigno will do something desperate if he is told the truth. Even without learning the truth – Benigno does do something desperate – killing himself with a drug overdose. I’ll leave unstated what the unspoken truth was.

Some Background Information About Coma: To fully appreciate this film, viewers need to understand a few issues about coma. Coma is not at all the same thing as being “brain dead.” Coma means only that the mechanism of consciousness is not operating. The human brain has evolved over many eons by superimposing new levels of neural processing on top of preexisting ones. To simplify, the human brain can be viewed as encompassing three broad levels of processing. The most primitive level (the brainstem) regulates the vital functions (blood pressure and breathing) as well as basic reflex cranial functions like balance, eye movements, salivation, swallowing, and crying, just to name a few. The middle level of the brain (the diencephalon and limbic system) provides for subconscious perception, subconscious regulation of body position and movement, and behaviors relating to basic drives like hunger, thirst, and libido. The highest level (the cerebral cortex) provides for conscious perception, conscious control of behavior, verbal capabilities, and goal-directed and willful initiative. Coma means simply that the mechanism of consciousness is inoperative and that the highest of the three levels of brain activity is not working. By itself, the term coma doesn’t indicate what’s happening at the other two levels.

In Alicia’s case, the lowest level of the brain was apparently still fully operative, as evidenced by the fact that she was not on a respirator or intravenous fluids (for regulation of blood pressure). Her vital functions were intact. As for the middle level of brain function, we can’t be sure from what is revealed in the film how much of that remained functional, but it would appear that it was at least mostly operative. There was no indication, for example, that her body was incapable of regulating body temperature, which is a function of the middle level. So, while Alicia’s cerebral cortex was inoperative during her period of coma, that does not indicate that Alicia was unable to experience sensory inputs subconsciously. Most likely she could. One does not have to be conscious to experience sensations. For example, patients given a general anesthetic to induce coma (but without a painkiller) will writhe and moan in response to surgical procedures despite being fully unconscious. They “feel” the pain subcortically (which is to say, subconsciously). Viewers need to understand that Benigno’s treatment of Alicia as a patient (excluding the sexual assault) was not at all unreasonable, excessive, or fanciful. In fact, Benigno was highly competent in the care that he delivered. Talking to an unconscious patient is sound intervention even if the patient has no conscious awareness of that conversation. The auditory inputs still reach and stimulate the subcortical parts of the brain. In fact, stimulating, cleansing, and grooming the body of a comatose patient (not sexually, but therapeutically) is sound medical practice for more than one reason. First, it helps to protect the various tissues of the body from atrophy, infections, bedsores, and the like. And secondly, it may provide comfort and stimulation at the subconscious level. To drive this point home and to personalize it, consider this question. Suppose you fall asleep on a particular evening and because you are totally exhausted, you sleep very soundly through the night, without regaining consciousness for even a moment. Suppose that your spouse or significant other in the middle of the night gives you a gentle back rub – but you sleep through it entirely. Come morning, you have no conscious recollection that you received any such attention. Can you state with confidence that the loving care you received would not or could not affect your subconscious sense of well-being during the next day? Perhaps even your energy level in confronting the problems that you encounter in a typical day? Or, in Alicia’s case – her subconscious will to fight her way to recovery? Benigno was right-on when he stated, “A woman’s brain is a mystery and, in this state, even more so.” Every brain is a mystery and all the more so in a state of coma.

Coma can reflect a range of neuroanatomical problems, just as a car’s engine might be inoperative for more than one reason. If there is widespread damage to cortical neurons, it is unlikely that consciousness will ever be regained and, even if it is, the individual is likely to have severely diminished competence. This situation might be likened to the engine of a car being fully seized up, crushed, cracked, or rusted. Under such circumstances it will never operate effectively again. On the other hand, coma sometimes occurs because the pacemaker (in the thalamus) for the brain waves that provide consciousness has shut down. It is in shock or otherwise compromised. If, over a period of time, the repair mechanisms of the body are able to sufficiently correct the problem that has caused the pacemaker to shut down, it sometimes restarts. If the cortical neurons are not also damaged, that person could regain consciousness and perhaps even something close to full functional capacity. This could be likened to a situation where the sparks plugs in an engine have gotten soaked as a car passes through a deep puddle. Once the spark plugs dry out, the engine will start up none the worse for wear. Clinicians can sometimes say with certainty that a particular comatose patient has no chance of regaining consciousness – if there is widespread damage of cortical neurons – but in the cases of pacemaker shutdown, there is little basis on which to predict which patients have a shot at recovery and which do not.

Even if the patient has no chance of recovery, physical and verbal comfort and care should be provided for whatever small solace it can provide that person at whichever brain levels remain intact. If the patient does have even a remote change of recovery, there is an additional reason to provide such care – it increases at least marginally the likelihood of recovery by stimulating the brain and, possibly, the will to recover.

Themes: The most basic theme of Talk to Her is an exploration of the range of human responses to loss. The obvious kind of loss under consideration is that associated with coma – the loss of the loved one’s conscious mind and capacity to consciously respond. Two other kinds of loss are also being considered in this film and related to coma – death of a loved one and rejection by a loved one. This is not just a film about prolonged coma, which is a fairly rare occurrence. It is a film about all the types of loss of reciprocity in relationships. In all three of the kinds of loss that I’ve itemized, the image of the loved one and the feelings of attachment can remain active in the mind of one party but reciprocal communication has ended. Marco continued to love and ruminate about his ex-wife, but she had moved on. Later, Marco stood at the grave of Benigno and spoke to him (ironically taking Benigno’s advice in the process), but Benigno could not respond. This film illustrates five patterns of response to loss, three of which are aberrant and two of which are usually healthy and appropriate. One aberrant response to loss of reciprocity of love is giving-up. For both Alicia and Lydia, the vast majority of the folks who knew them quickly peeled away, returning to their own lives, unable to endure the pain of seeing a loved one in a coma or unwilling to sacrifice enough to contribute to that person’s care. Even Alicia’s father, who as a psychiatrist ought to have better than average mental resources, could not bear to interact with her directly and simply paid to have others provide the care. The second inappropriate kind of response to loss of love illustrated in the film was inability to let go of an attachment no longer reciprocated. This was most evident in Marco’s ten year mourning of the collapse of his marriage. It was also seen early in the film in Lydia's residual feelings about Nino. The third inappropriate kind of response to loss was Benigno’s exploitation of Alicia while she was unconscious. Without consciousness, there can be no consent and Benigno’s action was thus morally repugnant.

One of the two appropriate responses to loss illustrated in the film was letting-go. Marco let go of his love for Lydia when he learned that it was Nino who she in fact loved and that Nino was prepared to assume the role of caretaker for Lydia. Marco also seemed to let go appropriately of his friendship with Benigno, as evidenced by the scene where he visits the gravesite. The other appropriate and, in fact, noble response to loss was dedicated care-giving, especially by Benigno but also, to a lesser extent, by Marco. The fact that Benigno ultimately lost his good sense and abused Alicia does not alter the fact that he first provided her with four years of high quality care that undoubtedly played a significant role in her opportunity for recovery. He gave what few of us could. For every one comatose or otherwise incapacitated patient who is assaulted, I’ll wager that there are thousands that suffer from neglect – from too little attention. We should not lose sight of the fact that patients who need care suffer collectively far more from the fact that most of their friends and family walk away than from the few instances of excesses that cross the moral boundary into the domain of abuse. Benigno, until he lapsed into outright violation of Alicia’s personal integrity, exhibited extraordinary capacity as a giving human being. What kind of psychology does it require for a person to give and give and give, day after day, with nothing received in return? It does require a very special mind set, which Benigno revealed in his statement: “These last four years have been the richest of my life.” By experiencing her as a living person, he was able to not only provide what she required but to even derive satisfaction from giving that care.

A second central theme in Talk to Her is the masculinity and femininity that exists in each of us and how this differs from questions of sexual orientation. It is amazing to me that several reviewers suggest that the relationship between Benigno and Marco involved elements of homoeroticism. Would the same suggestion be made if the two were women instead of men? Several reviewers also suggest that Benigno may be homosexual. Let’s think about that! What do we know about Benigno’s proclivities. He stared longingly out of his apartment window at women in a dance studio. He took an interest in one of those women. He attempted to initiate a relationship with said woman. After an initial meeting, he looked for ways to see her again. When she was injured and became comatose, he requested the job of caring for her, which he then undertook in an almost obsessive manner for four years. He admires her boobs, massages her body, and declares that all of this has been the richest time in his life. Finally, in what could only be described as judgment badly overwhelmed by libido, he had intercourse with her while she remained comatose. By contrast, Benigno’s friendship with Marco may have involved a hug – I don’t really recall, not being especially attuned to such things – and his suggestion that he might tell his fellow inmates that Marco was his lover (which could be for purely practical reasons like fitting in or discouraging advances). I can only attribute this unreasonable insistence on seeing Benigno’s friendship with Marco as homosexual in nature as a manifestation of homophobia. Cannot two men hug in American without being assumed to be gay or judged so despite a mountain of evidence to the contrary? Oh, wait! They talked meaningfully with one another. That cinches it! They must be gay!

Not only are Benigno and Marco men with exquisite sensitivity and the capacity to shed tears, but the women in this film also combine the best of femininity and masculinity – especially Lydia. Her musculature is subtly masculine yet perfectly beautiful. In the bullring, she is the essence of courage, toughness, and confidence. Her hair is bunched tightly under her cap and she looks as much man as woman. Alicia, when we see her before her coma, is more traditionally feminine in appearance, but assertive and competitive in her own way. Both of the women are dedicated to professions involving intense physicality and high level competition. Thus, all four of the principal characters in this marvelous film involve interesting combinations of characteristics traditionally thought of as either masculine or feminine. Almodovar wants to say, basically, that it’s alright for each person to simply be what they are rather than needing to conform to simplistic stereotypes.

Production Values: As in all of Pedro Almodovar’s films, this one is jam-packed with cinematographically gorgeous scenes. Some of the ones that stood out for me included Lydia dressing in her bullfighting outfit, her magnificence in the arena, Benigno massaging Alicia’s thigh as her father watched, the entire film within a film sequence, both the opening and closing ballet productions, and (forgive my saying so, but I am just a guy) the shots of Alicia in partial undress. Almodovar is a master at working into his films frames of tremendous natural visual appeal.

Javier Camara had the challenging job of trying to strike the perfect balance between seeming merely sensitive and caring on the one hand but naïve and perhaps even a bit creepy on the other hand. I found him to be a highly sympathetic character, as lovable as a puppy dog. I felt that he had a valid point when he asserted that he knew more about women than most men, despite being a virgin, having cared for one for twenty years and another for four.

Dario Grandinetti provided an exquisitely elegant performance, balancing sensitivity with credible masculinity. He previously appeared in The Day Silence Died. Rosario Flores as Lydia was absolutely stunning. From her long lithe limbs, to her toned musculature, to her erect posture, she made for a simply fabulous matador. Leonor Watling, as Alicia, got precious little opportunity to show off her acting talents, but the two items that she did show off quite a bit were duly magnificent. The casting of Geraldine Chaplin as Katerina was certainly something of an irony in a film that featured an extended silent motion picture. Geraldine is the daughter of the late, great Charles Chaplin, perhaps the foremost name from the silent-film era.

Bottom-Line: One reviewer argued that Benigno is so desperate that he fails to understand that it’s not a good idea to fall in love with a woman who’s in a coma. While that seems like eminent good sense, the more fundamental problem is that people in a coma often receive precious little love of any kind. It’s difficult to express love to a non-responsive person or to understand that an unconscious person is not brain dead and may respond to loving interventions (talk, massage, etc.) at some subconscious level. Obviously such interventions cannot morally include sex because capacity for consent is absent, but any and all forms of non-exploitive love sharing should be encouraged and not mocked as bizarre.

In the last analysis, this is a film about two things: how we deal with loss (both badly and well) and the inadequacy of conventional gender stereotypes. Almodovar has fashioned a film, here, that is nothing short of brilliant in its exploration of those two themes while at the same time providing richly rewarding entertainment and some scenes of magnificent beauty. I just can’t recommend this film too highly. I will only caution that those not comfortable with explicit sex will probably find the film within the film shocking or discomforting, despite its obvious surreal context.


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You might want to check out these other excellent films from Spain:

L’Age D’Or
All About My Mother
Belle Epoque
Butterfly
Carmen
Cria!
El
The Grandfather
Labyrinth of Passion
Sex and Lucía
Spirit of the Beehive
Thesis
Tie Me Up! Time Me Down!
Tierra
Tristana
Vacas
Viridiana
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age