Parallel Mothers
A distinctly Amoldovarian film, giving us a look at the legacy of Spanish fascism, while also providing an emotional and thrilling drama.
Janis (Penelope Cruz) is a photographer working in Spain, when she meets anthropologist Arturo (Israel Elejalde). Janis begs Arturo to help her uncover a mass grave that her great-grandfather is buried in, and after agreeing (albeit with a multi-year delay to the actual uncovering), Janis and Arturo begin sleeping together. When Janis falls pregnant, and pushes the married Arturo away, she winds up in a hospital wing on the verge of giving birth next to Ana (Milena Smit). Ana and Janis have their children the same day, and go about their lives; but tragedy, circumstance and love bring them back into one another’s circles, until the revelation of a massive secret threatens to drive them apart.
Directed by Pedro Amoldovar, Parallel Mothers is quite a few movies in one. On the surface, it’s a slow-burn thriller about a tragic mix up for these two new mothers, and the subsequent death of a child. That makes it sounds quite dark, which isn’t so; it’s actually quite a light, airy and colorful piece, much like Amoldovar’s other distinctive works. This surface story works quite well, despite its slow pace. There are times where the plot here teters on being rote and cliche, but those done before elements are subsumed by quite a nice little pair of twists, and an exploratory focus on Janis’ desire to do the right thing.
On a second layer, is a romantic entanglement between Janis and Ana. There seems to be something kinetic between the pair right from their first meeting in the hospital, but Amoldovar, ever one to throw his real life wife Cruz into an on-screen romance in his pictures, builds a budding romance between the young woman and older photographer. While at times the trademark locked off, overly lit and brightly colorful cinematography works against the sexuality of these romantic endeavors, the ultimate coupling of the two is nevertheless a satisfying arc. Issue may be taken here with Smit’s performance, for while Cruz sells the piece with aplomb, the younger Smit sometimes fails to bring the emotion necessary to the content to justify the relationship. Her jealousy seems petulant and needless, rather than lived in and immediate, and her grief and surprise feels surface level.
The final layer of the film focuses on the resurrecting of past trauma in the form of Janis’ Great-Grandfather by Arturo. It’s an interesting aside for sure, and for those unversed in the fascist history of 20th century Spain, it can be truly enlightening and encourage you to do more research. At times, it certainly feels shoehorned in, but the pace of the rest of the fim is often so lagging that the welcome reprieve of an inexorable conclusion by this content feels good.
Ultimately, this is a movie that will entice Amoldovar fans, but also has many redeeming qualities that make it acceptable and enjoyable for more mainstream audiences, particularly when compared with some of his other recent work. It is a bright and airy piece despite the subject matter, but also manages to surprise and even shock you.matography should make a beeline for it.
