Mark Reviews Movies: PARALLEL MOTHERS

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Review by Mark Dujsik | December 23, 2021

Writer/director Pedro Almodóvar has something important to say about the mostly unspoken history of his homeland of Spain in Parallel Mothers. That, at least, is the assumption left by the movie's prologue, which sets up a literally digging-up of the past, and epilogue, which finally sees that happen. The bulk of this story, though, has nothing to do with that. It's as if Almodóvar was suddenly inspired by a random idea in the course of starting his screenplay and hoped that the distinct threads would somehow combine.

They never really do, which leaves us with a bit of an issue here. The start is promising, as Janis (Penélope Cruz), a professional photographer working in Madrid, conveniently meets someone who can bring some closure to the small town in which she was born and raised. Outside the village, there is a mass grave, from the days of the country's civil war and the rise of dictator Francisco Franco. While it was and remains clear to everyone that the people who didn't return on one particular day are buried in that now overgrown spot, the truth of the dead's fate and, with it, the terrible consequences of the country's nationalistic past must be exhumed.

It's a fine beginning, filled with potential mystery and plenty of still-relevant horror, as the entire world seems recently incapable of remembering or completely ignorant of the political history of the early 20th century. Spain, Janis and some others repeatedly assert at first and at the story's end, has never reckoned with its own history in that regard, and Almodóvar's closing text, which offers some estimated figures about how many mass graves and victims similar to the ones in Janis' hometown have yet to be uncovered, makes the point plain.

Everything in between these sequences, though, is either an intentional distraction from or an unintentional misstep for that message. The plot still revolves around Janis, who enlists the aid of forensic anthropologist Arturo (Israel Elejalde) to lead the excavation of the mass grave. There will be some waiting, as Arturo finds experts and petitions the government, which doesn't seem too interested or invested in such projects.

In the meantime, Janis and Arturo become lovers, and in a fairly amusing edit, having Janis' passionate cries in bed become some pained ones in a maternity ward, Almodóvar gets right to the point of the new angle for this story. Janis is pregnant, about to give birth, and prepared to raise the child on her own. In the same hospital room with her is Ana (Milena Smit), a teenager who is also having contractions and isn't ready for the responsibilities of being a single mother. The two soon-to-be mother bond quickly, and after each has her baby, they exchange phone numbers, just in case either needs to talk or vent or get some advice.

What follows this chance encounter is the sort of soap opera-like tale that Almodóvar seems to adore and, beneath the twists and turns of the plot, to which the filmmaker can often bring some dark humor, some exceptional performances, and unexpected notes of genuine, human emotion. Those qualities exist in this story, as Janis and Ana's paths separate, intersect again, and become as one through a series of coincidences, suspicions, and one fairly shocking surprise that makes each one re-evaluate her status as a mother, a friend, and more.

On its own, this lengthy middle section of the movie, which goes on so long with only minimal references to Janis' initial goal and becomes so complicated that we almost start to forget where it all began, is generally involving as melodrama. Its specifics are tantalizing, as well. Both women have the financial means and resources to be single mothers, with Janis' career (Her best friend and agent Elena, played by Rossy de Palma, sets up Janis with quick and easy work when she needs it) and the divorce settlement gained by Ana's actor mother Teresa (Aitana Sánchez-Gijón).

Teresa is too self-involved to be much help (When she tells Janis that she's "apolitical," Janis can't help but make a dig, in one of the few moments that even hints at the past of the movie's own now-forgotten past, that her money, gained from an apparently right-wing ex-husband, isn't), so Ana tries to make it completely on her own. Tragedy has struck when the two mothers meet again, and Janis offers Ana a job as her live-in housekeeper.

That's the basic gist, although there are plenty of secrets, lies, and other entanglements to fill in the story's melodramatic twists of fate and turns of coincidence. Cruz is sturdy and sympathetic as the woman with the biggest secret, which also makes her a mother with a secret, devastating pain that cannot or will not be voiced. Smit is equally adept as Ana gradually does fight for and gain some independence.

What, though, does any of this tale, as intriguing and well-performed as it may be, have to do with Almodóvar's initial and final point? Perhaps the extended distraction of plot's constant complications is intended as a parallel of how the everyday requirements, desires, and struggles of life get in the way of really looking into the past. Maybe, though, it's a simple case of a filmmaker not being capable of making the connections he wants to make. Either way, the intentions and drama of Parallel Mothers don't converge.

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