Thirty-two years after his film Sabor (Flavor) came out, writer-director Salvador Mallo (Antonio Banderas) is just coming to terms with it. He hasn’t seen Sabor’s lead actor Alberto (Asier Etxeandia) since it premiered 3 decades ago but the cinemateque has recently restored the film, labelled it a classic, and viewing it with fresh (well, older, wiser, more experienced) eyes, Salvador decides maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet.
It is clear that Salvador is taking stock of his life. He’s not well. But his recollections suggest that his life has rarely been without pain of some kind. As a talented choir soloist, he was educated by the priests and taught his book learning to others. But geography he learned by traveling the world as a successful director. And anatomy he learned through pain and illness. When he reconnects with Alberto we assume he’s making amends but resentments still run hot and what is actually exchanged is heroin.
Antonia Banderas is the picture of a tortured man. Riddled with pain he can no longer make movies. But without shooting, his life has no purpose. To hear those truths is to understand a man who is resigned to the end. His character has come full circle in a lot of ways, a lot of ways that are painfully obvious as a play about his youth is staged and brings out forgotten friends. We learn so much about his fears and motivations and how a man who has made his living telling stories is now grappling with his own. And in many ways, this role brings Banderas full circle from the role that first garnered him attention from American audiences as Tom Hanks’ lover in Philadelphia. This time Banderas is front and centre, earning himself his first Oscar nomination for his restraint, consideration, and tenderness.
Dolor Y Gloria is like a vise on my heart for every shred of his own humanity that master film-maker Pedro Almodóvar pulls from his experience and uses to paint the screen with sorrow and redemption. Using heroin is referred to as ‘chasing the dragon’ but this film chases after so much more: compassion, reflection, grief, making peace. Almodóvar still knows how to engage us, but in this he surprises us, and perhaps even himself, with the authenticity in his unflinching self-examination.
ASSHOLES WATCHING MOVIES 
I left this film absolutely broken. It’s a masterpiece, I reckon. Not often I say that, but it’s incredible- moving, passionate and heart-breaking.
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Sounds like something I should check out.
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I really want to see this. It’s Almodovar. I love his films.
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I felt really underwhelmed by this and it’s a shame because everyone else seemed to enjoy it.
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Your opinion is valid! I wish we could love every movie but they don’t all speak to us and that’s okay.
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Sarah and I watched this last night. Really dug it.
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I hope the fact that you were underwhelmed means you have lived a life relatively free of pain, both mental and physical. Or that you don’t like subtitles. 🙂
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Wha? I said I liked it.
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I’m sorry… I meant to reply to @brittani. I didn’t see that it linked to the wrong comment. 1000 pardons.
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No problemo. And for what it is worth, try not to fret over people having a opinion different from yours. We all like different things.
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Oh, yeah… totally. My thought for her was genuine. I think someone who’s not experienced a lot of pain wouldn’t relate to the film at all.
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I just finished watching and came over here to read the review I’d avoided so as not to taint my viewing. I LOVED the film!! So very Almodovar yet different from other films. Antonio portrayed life with chronic pain very well (and made heroin look dangerously appealing). I was deeply engaged throughout the film and loved the ending.
I also enjoyed the part about the painting because I am still hoping to have a similar experience (mine is a book with letters to me written in the margins).
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