Even Almodovar doesn’t seem entirely sure: “Of course I feel less confident with this story, but I don’t feel very scared. Both Munro and Berlin are masters of the thwarted impulse, of wavering self-denial-Almodóvar and his big, liberated, post-Franco heart is decidedly not. It felt like cheating.Īlmodóvar is great at telling women’s stories (I’d be curious to see his career Bechdel stats), but I’m very skeptical of his ability to work with Berlin’s brokendown American dirtbag ballads. Almodovar adapted three Alice Munro stories for his 2016 film Julieta, which was fine, but when you take Munro’s stories-and their bottled up mid-century WASPy Canadian chill-and move them to Spain, you’re not really adapting Alice Munro anymore, you’re changing her. Look, I love Almodóvar ( Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown will forever be in my cinematic pantheon), and I absolutely adore Lucia Berlin and the faded postcard brilliance of the posthumously collected A Manual Cleaning for Cleaning Women, but this pairing worries me. When I heard that Pedro Almodóvar was adapting A Manual For Cleaning Women, by Lucia Berlin, I yelled holy shit in my empty apartment, freaking out my cat and likely spooking the downstairs neighbor.
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