Starting with "Live Flesh", Almodovar's output has grown increasingly assured and polished while maintaining his penchant for hyper-melodrama. This goes to places that would be scoffed at were he an American director, but almost all of it works.

His films tend to be meandering affairs which have cultural allusions and philosophical depth beyond my full comprehension, but they always have a few astounding sequences and this one is no exception. I am still working on tuning myself into modern Asian cinema rhythms.

American films seem to have great difficulty portraying family life, while Europe does it so effortlessly. This was not as good as Arnaud Desplechin, but a beautiful work nonetheless.

Reminded me of an avant-garde "Seven Year Itch" with a more truthful fatalism and unfettered erotic/sensual selfishness.

The most immediately satisfying and entertaining film I have seen in quite awhile.

That gorgeous film poster deserved a more engaging film than this lovely, dense, but not especially profound portrait of a bourgeois woman's interior guilt.

Rather charmless and aloof, even by Jarmusch standards. Gorgeous cinematography by Christopher Doyle, but little else to keep me involved.

An unassuming charmer through and through. Quiet and devoid of the pandering bluster in the often obnoxious genre of "kid's movies".