MATADOR
Reviewed by David N. Butterworth
Copyright 1989 David N. Butterworth/The Summer Pennsylvanian
MATADOR is a film about sex. Not sex as even the most liberal of us would admit to knowing it, but obsessive sex -- palpable, intoxicating, self- destructive. The sexual images in this film are sweaty and engrossing and all encompassing. MATADOR may be in Spanish with English subtitles but sex -- on any level -- is a universal language.
Diego Montes, played in the film by Nacho Martinez, is the matador of the title, El Maestro, retired from bullfighting after having been savagely gored by a bull in the ring. He walks with a limp, drives a Mercedes and his chiseled features remind one of a Latin Jeremy Irons. Women would kill for him, if not on account of him.
Reduced to teaching his art to Spain's young and impressionable, Diego hopes to mould a young trainee toreador, Angel Gimenez (played with gusto by Antonio Banderas). Angel reminds him of how he once was, passionate and altogether fearless.
Diego is surprised at Angel's lack of experience with women, however, and casts casual aspersions as to the young man's sexuality. Incensed by the very suggestion, Angel promptly rapes Diego's girlfriend Eva Soler (played by Eva Cobo in a sensitively understated role) in an attempt to regain his pride and indirectly punish his mentor.
Concerned by his subsequent brooding, and that he might have done wrong, Angel's overtly religious mother insists that he tell all in the confessional. Instead, Angel heads directly for the local police station where he not only confesses to the rape, but falsely admits to a number of recent murders. If this is his way of proving his manhood, well ... talk about major psychological problems!
A pretty young defense attorney, Maria Cardenal (the vivacious Assumpta Serna), takes on Angel's case. "Four murders are enough to begin with," she tells him. But we later discover that her interests are less with Angel than with his tutor. She sees her involvement with the young prodigy as a way of getting closer to Diego, a man with whom, we learn, she has more than a passing interest. The interest is mutual, however. Diego follows her into a movie theater showing King Vidor's DUEL IN THE SUN. While the two barely acknowledge each other's presence, the resulting scene is a classic of flaring nostrils and heavy breathing.
Maria, we discover, is a lot like the character in Erica Jong's FEAR OF FLYING. She, too, is in search of the ultimate orgasm, that which transcends all others. She has followed Diego's bloody career in the arena from afar, collecting his memorabilia, adoring his very being. She admits that, at the moment of sexual climax, she imitates him, using a stiletto-shaped hairpin as her picador's lance.
When it becomes apparent that Angel's connection to the murders was a complete fabrication, the film's emphasis shifts to Diego and we discover that not only are his hands less than clean, but neither are those of his fervent admirer Maria.
Other than the videotaped recording of his final day in the ring, a morbid reminder which Diego watches with curious fascination, there are no scenes of actual bullfighting in this picture. Human beings become, in effect, the bulls of Diego's trade. "Women are like bulls," he instructs Angel. "Once you close in on them, it's easy." And sex, if it is to be exciting, must lead to death.
Maria gets her kicks from skewering her unsuspecting sexual partners in the throes of passion. And, similarly, Diego has found that he cannot hang up his sword upon leaving the ring. He still finds the nape of the neck between the shoulder blades a wondrous place, a place where life ends and death begins. These are two people obsessed by the same sick fantasy. They are not the kind of people you would want to take home to meet your mother!
This obsession with the marriage of sex and death has never been made more apparent than in this film. That director (and co-screenwriter) Pedro Almodovar keeps these dark and dirty dealings amusing throughout is a credit to him and his craft. Almodovar, whose previous credits include last year's Academy Award nominee WOMEN ON THE VERGE OF A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN, draws a fine line between acceptability and poor taste.
The film is never sordid, however, always upbeat and attainable, and the director's ability to handle such primal themes with comedic resourcefulness is most invigorating. This is not something one would expect from a film which opens with a scene of its leading character masturbating to video images of women being tortured, beheaded and mutilated.
The only disappointment in the film is its reliance on a somewhat hokey denouement concerning psychic phenomena and an eclipse of the sun. This film is, after all, a murder mystery and these clues, placed at the very end, help the police solve the bitter crimes. However, this ending seems jarring and out of place in a film full of bizarre characters and less-than conventional images. But if you're in the mood for a stylish piece of erotica, then MATADOR should leave you panting for more.
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