La voix humaine

'The Human Voice (2020)' is a short film based around Jean Cocteau's play of the same name. It's directed by Pedro Almodóvar (his English-language debut) and stars Tilda Swinton as pretty much the only on-screen character (there are some background extras towards the start, but that's about it). It's a very pared-down affair, not just within its story but also within its presentation. Though it's colourful and sometimes lavish, it doesn't have the same, shall I say, 'high-calibre melodrama' feel that much of the famous director's work has. Instead, it draws as much attention to its focal performance as possible, the film taking a backseat to its subject. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, even if it runs the risk of making the flick's central monologue become a little monotonous, as it draws attention to the main reason the thing exists in the first place. In many ways, the short feels purely like a vehicle for Swinton to flex her acting muscles. The actual story isn't all that impactful and it's only as interesting as it is (it never gets boring) because it's performed so utterly well. Ultimately, however, the flick comes across as a little hollow. It's entertaining enough for what it is, but it doesn't have much staying power and it isn't actually all that compelling. It isn't bad, don't get me wrong. It's just a very, I suppose, 'in-one-ear-and-out-the-other' kind of thing. Still, it's worth a watch if you're a fan of its director, star or source material (which, incidentally, bears some similarities with 'Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown (1988)', since Almodóvar has been inspired by Cocteau's work for quite some time). 6/10.

When long ago I saw Rossellini's version of this play by Cocteau with an audience of students the most memorable moment came when Anna Magnani finally put down the phone, promptly picked it up and started dialling again and everyone in the cinema groaned en masse.

The play has yet to be filmed in French, in Pedro Almodovar's first film in English this time it has brevity on it's side and it's Tilda Swinton's turn to be the woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

The original was in black & white but in true Almodovar style Swinton uses an earphone that makes the proceedings seem more like an interior monologue as she prowls about cigarette in hand dressed in chic little outfits in bright pastel colours complemented by the decor and even the pills that she pops.

One thing I noticed, and adored, about Almodóvar, is that despite his unequivocal propensity for incorporating comedy with melodrama, there's no way his films could come across as either silly or overly sentimental. For his stories are laced with considerable nuance. His Women on the Verge on a Nervous Breakdown, which is also based on Jean Cocteau's play, "La voix humaine" as this short is, maintains an incremental humorous tone so much so it could be adequately described, by its end, as a farce. Yet, as we see Pepa trying to figure out why her lover dumped her without an explanation, Almodóvar delves into Pepa's psyche with great subtlety that's apt for her precarious state. That's why I thought The Human Voice would benefit greatly from the concentrated nature of short films. Our unnamed protagonist's wait for three days for her lover to come in a last chance to see him has filled her with rage. A vindictive rage almost identical to that of The Bride in Kill Bill, but she still loves him. So she acts out like a maniac: stabbing one of her lover's suits with an axe in a harmless cathartic release. She wouldn't dare to actually hurt him; she still loves him. Therefore, she's so vulnerable. Over the course of her conversation with his lover, her seemingly stable and wry demeanour gradually crumbles, exposing both her helplessness and her futile undirected rage. Almodóvar brilliantly highlights such contradiction and lays her feelings bare by showing the soundstage her exuberantly furnished, sumptuously coloured apartment is constructed upon. As she grows more desperate, she begins to lose control. Finally, she decides to free herself from the submissive woman she's always been, and put an end to their toxic relationship - after all, her love made her too fragile and delicate to venture to turn the tables on him as Alma did on Reynolds in Phantom Thread. The thing is, I didn't feel that she loves him. What's baffling is that I can't put my finger on why exactly I feel so, but it's likely due to the stagy feel this film has. It is a showcase of Tilda Swinton's thespian prowess, but, at times, her monologue comes off rather like a soliloquy - like there's no one on the other side of the phone line. Regardless, The Human Voice is an eye-popping, exquisitely-made feminist work with witty sarcastic undertones.

While Swintons performance is a great showcase for her range and understanding of this character - The Human Voice can feel a bit to self indulgent and overly sarcastic. Almodovars direction shines in the moments where Swinton dominates the screen but falters when trying to build a world around her that would support the feeling of the emotional turmoil she is in.

A mature woman (Tilda Swinton) watches time passing next to the suitcases of her ex-lover -who is supposed to come pick them up, but never arrives- and a restless dog who doesn't understand that his master has abandoned him. The woman at first speaks calmly, but once the conversation goes on, things get worse, and anger and a certain hysteria emerge from her mouth. We watch two living beings facing abandonment.

Almodóvar presents his first film entirely in English, a 30-minute short film with the absolute leading role of the great Tilda and dealing with heartbreak as a backdrop, a torn monologue based on Cocteau's play, in which the author Frances showed the sadness, the rage, the helplessness, the helplessness and a thousand other emotions of a love breakup. In which the long-time British actress shows a whole catalog of feelings through a telephone conversation in which the other party cannot be heard. This prestigious British actress of androgynous beauty has a notorious career. She has played both women and men. She doesn't always play women; she has played Mozart on stage, an Elizabethan nobleman in Orlando (1992) and an androgynous angel, Gabriel, in Constantine (2005). Tilda Swinton is a frequent collaborator of Luca Guadagnino with whom she has worked in five productions: The Protagonists (1999), Tilda Swinton: The Love Factory (2002), Io sono l'amore (2009), A bigger splash (2015) and Suspiria (2018), together they also created the concept of the short film Here (2012).

Also worth highlighting is the excellent work of two of Almodovar's regular collaborators: cameraman José Luis Alcaine in the photography and the Oscarized composer Alberto Iglesias in music. Being a project produced by Pedro Almodovar himself y his brother Agustin Almodovar, the latter has a bit role as a shopkeeper. Later on, Pedro would make a second short film in English: Extraña forma de vida (Strange Way of Life) with Ethan Hawke and Pedro Pascal. Previously Pedro Almodóvar had directed successful films, some of them Oscar-winning, among which the following can be highlighted: Dolor y gloria, La piel que habito, Hable con ella, Carne trémula, Tacones lejanos, Átame, La Flor de mi secreto, Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios, La Ley del Deseo.