Review of Volver

Volver (2006)

Director: Pedro Almodóvar

Cast: Penélope Cruz, Lola Dueñas, Carmen Maura, Blanca Portilla, Yohana Cobo

Time: 121 min.

Spanish with English subtitles

Rating:

Like most Pedro Almodóvar films, Volver is a thematic treatise on human life, in this case, death and relationships among women. Although these topics can be loaded with melodrama and sentimentality, Almodóvar infuses Volver with realism and humor, creating a subtly complex but beautiful film.

Volver follows two sisters, Raimunda (Cruz) and Soledad (Dueñas), who have moved from their village in western Spain to the city. After the death of their senile aunt, who raised Raimunda, the sisters’ deceased mother (Marua) appears. (In their village, people believe that the dead can return to watch over and care for the living.)

Many subplots populate this narrative structure. Raimunda’s husband is murder. She takes over an abandoned restaurant. Soledad employs their mother as a shampoo woman. And Agustina (Portillo), the terminally ill neighbor who helped their senile aunt, asks Raimunda for help in determining whether her mother is still alive. (Agustina’s mother disappeared three years earlier, about the same time that Raimunda’s mother died.)

What makes Volver so pleasurable to watch is Almodóvar’s masterful storytelling as he gradually layers subplot on top of subplot to build dramatic tension. Each subplot quickly follows the next, leaving the characters with little time to react to or even process what is happening around them. This stacking of layers reflects the chaotic ways that post-modern life can rapidly unravel around us.

Each layer also acts as a lens, distorting part of the present as it clarifies the past—the present seems more complicated as the past become more simplified. Eventually, these lenses all come into focus as the past provides the keys for resolving the issues of the present. (Of course, this past is also responsible for causing the issue of the present.) Almodóvar brilliantly juggles the many layers and unifies them in the end.

He also manages to touch on numerous themes—death, solidarity among women, the unreliability of men in relationships—with a subtlety that doesn’t overwhelm the story. To achieve this, he surreptitiously creates foils of relationships: Raimunda and her daughter foil Raimunda and her mother, Raimunda and Soledad foil their mother and aunt, Raimunda and her husband foil her mother and father. The pairings are barely perceptible, but their juxtaposition to each other provides rich meaning.

And Almodóvar handles these emotionally charged themes with a humor that seems completely natural. The humor arises from irony and seemingly inappropriate responses that characters have to emotional situations. To explain the presence of her mother when she starts working in the beauty parlor, Soledad tells people that her mother is an illegal Russian immigrant who she found on the street and decided to help.

What makes the ironic moments and non sequitur behaviors seem so natural is the talented cast. Penelope Cruz performs admirably, showing skills that many of her recent English-speaking roles have failed to showcase. Maura is a treat as Raimunda and Soledad’s mother, covering a range from spunky and funny to forgiving and remorseful. Even Cobo is believable as Raimunda’s teenage daughter.

Volver also features something that not every Almodóvar film has: some wonderfully composed shots. Almodóvar still uses natural lighting, and the cinematography has a gritty, cinema verte feel to it, but some of the compositions—such as the view of the funeral procession passing through the village streets—are truly artful.

The film’s beautiful ending makes the entire production a work of art. In the simplest way, all of the narrative layers converge into a unified whole while remaining sublimely open-ended. Much like life, as one episode of the characters’ lives arrives at a conclusion, another begins. For this reason, Volver is perhaps one of Almodóvar’s finest films.