In my life and career, he was already aware of the threat posed by creative people like himself: that film ends with a typewriter being thrown out a window, which then bursts into flames in a way that’s unbelievable but spectacular.
I ask if he agrees with the poet Czesław Miłosz, who said: “When a writer is born into a family, the family is finished.” Almodóvar offers a small adjustment: “Not finished. But they’re going to have a lot of problems. It is pain that inspires me, not happiness. The writer is selfish by nature, which makes us dangerous to the people around us. It’s not very nice, but that’s how it is. That’s why I portrayed Raúl as almost the villain of the film.” Almodóvar claims he has only ever borrowed from real life responsibly. “When I’ve been inspired by someone from my life, I’ve changed many elements to make them unrecognizable.”
That isn’t quite true. He took the facts of a friend’s traumatic encounter with ETA terrorists, made them Shias instead, and played the episode for laughs in Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. The friend was horrified. “Oh yeah,” he says, remembering now. “She got very angry when she saw the film. At that time, I didn’t understand it because I saw it as a tribute: I’d turned something dark that happened in her life into comedy.”
Thoughts of the harm a writer can do lead to the subject of the late Alice Munro. In 2016, Almodóvar adapted three stories from Munro’s collection Runaway into his film Julieta; one of those stories, Silence, describes a woman who cuts off contact with her mother, just as Munro’s daughter had done. It only came to light after Munro’s death in 2024 that she had stayed married to her second husband after learning he had sexually abused her daughter years earlier.
“What’s overwhelming is that she wrote that story after everything that had happened,” the director says. “I try not to judge, but I find that incredible. The whole family stayed silent too, which is very dirty, and just as dark as the mother’s position. If I had known what happened there, my adaptation would have been completely different.” Would he still have made Julieta, then, even if the terrible facts had come out in time? “Yes, but the story is much better with the stepfather, the mother doing nothing, the daughter escaping the family.” I don’t doubt his horror at Munro’s behavior. There is a slight chill, though, in hearing the screenwriter inside him express frustration that a vital piece of the narrative puzzle was hidden from view.
When it came to writing the scene in Bitter Christmas where Mónica accuses Raúl of “vampiring” her, Almodóvar found the experience of self-criticism freeing. “All the things she says to him, I could easily say to myself. It’s refreshing and fun to be so nasty about yourself.” That might be because his own critics have been so few. What they lack in numbers, however, they make up for in strictness. In 1993, filmmaker Alex Cox pointed out that Almodóvar’s actors speak “the ‘official’ Spanish with the lisped ‘s'”, indicating “a certain societal correctness … which is naturally divisive and harmful to the culture”. When Volver, a mix of ghosts, murder, and mother-daughter devotion, was released in 2006, critic Peter Matthews saw only the “smooth, velvety craftsmanship” of a “failed iconoclast”. After Parallel Mothers, Leo Robson argued that, far from being rebellious, the director’s work has consistently echoed “orthodox and to some degree official Spanish attitudes”.
The self-criticism in Bitter Christmas is nowhere near as harsh as all that. Almodóvar may see Raúl, his alter ego, as something of a villain, but he has also described himself as a “victim” of his own passion for cinema. WhethWhether he’s the villain or the victim, what has it cost him? “Sometimes I’ve suffered during shoots for various reasons,” he recalls. “You run into problems you can’t even imagine. There have been plenty of painful moments, but that’s the price you pay. You must never complain, because it’s all part of the adventure.”
Almodóvar shows no signs of slowing down, despite his deafness and styes. This October in Spain, he’ll even publish his first novel, The Man Who Only Wrote on Airplanes. Before we part, though, I point out that he’s now the same age his hero Luis Buñuel was when he made his final film, That Obscure Object of Desire, which—like The Law of Desire later would—ends with an explosion. How does it feel to be at that stage? “Unlike Buñuel at that time, I’m still completely full of desire to keep making films. Cinema is what drives me and gives me a reason to live. Buñuel was pushed by his producer when all he really wanted was to retire in Mexico.” A flash of defiance. “And I never want to rest.” Bitter Christmas is in UK and Irish cinemas from 28 August.
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs based on the article title and concept written in a natural conversational tone
General Background
1 Wait Pedro Almodóvar is acting in his own movie I thought he was just the director
Yes for the first time in his career Pedro Almodóvar steps in front of the camera to play a significant role in his own film Hes not just a cameo hes playing a character central to the plot
2 What movie is this about
The article refers to his new short film Strange Way of Life which is a queer Western starring Ethan Hawke and Pedro Pascal Almodóvar plays a minor but pivotal charactera villainous figure who appears in a key scene
3 Why does he call it his riskiest film
Hes not talking about stunts or explosions The risk is emotional and professional As a director hes used to controlling everything from behind the camera Acting forces him to be vulnerable exposed and judged in a way hes never experienced before He risks ruining the movie for the audience if they dont buy him in the role
4 Who does he play in the movie
He plays a character named Silva a sinister man who confronts the main characters He describes the role as a bad guy which is a complete departure from his public persona as a beloved eccentric artist
On Acting Direction
5 How did he handle directing himself while acting
He admitted it was a logistical nightmare He had to rely heavily on his longtime collaborators especially his brother Agustín to watch the monitors and give him feedback on his performance while he was in the scene He couldnt see himself so he had to trust others
6 Is this a onetime thing or will he act again
He has stated that this was a unique challenge he gave himself but he found it incredibly stressful While he doesnt rule out future cameos he has made it clear that he has no desire to become a professional actor and prefers to stay behind the camera
7 Did he write the role specifically for himself
Yes He wrote the character with the idea of playing him almost as a way to test his own limits
