Was it "Talk to Her" that had a fantasy sequence where someone crawls out of a wardrobe-sized vagina?
In others, such as the rather creepy Talk To Her and his latest, The Skin I Live In, women are comatose or mentally ill constructs to be sewn, screwed, sedated or silenced.
Anaya ("Talk to Her") has to do little more than bask in the camera's appreciative gaze, which she holds effortlessly.
That there’s something creepy at the heart of “Skin” should surprise no one who’s seen Almodóvar’s “Matador” or “Talk to Her” or “Bad Education” or “Live Flesh,” which is also based on a novel and which, I think, this new film most resembles.
The Skin I Live In, the new Pedro Almodóvar film, is no masterpiece and he's made a few, including the transcendent All About My Mother and Talk to Her but it's unmistakably Almodóvarian, for it touches on many motifs the 62-year-old auteur has pursued over an exemplary career now deep into its fourth decade.
His best and most feverish film since 2002’s “Talk to Her,” it’s a wild mix of horror, surrealism, melodrama and transgressive sexuality – and it reunites him with his great discovery, Antonio Banderas.