User reviews

If you intend to see such a film, I warn you that you should not miss any scene if you really want to understand its intelligently arranged plot. Sometimes I see Almodovar as a kind of Victor Hugo of cinema because he makes various complicated scenes not coherently inserted in the film that you should put in order step by step. May be in this way the excitement increases and you will be more anxious to know the end of the film. Javier Bardem (David) played the role of ex-agent and ex-basketball player who was shot in fact accidentally. The Italian actress Francesca Neri is David's wife, and young Liberto Rabal is Victor, the man supposedly spoiling the lives of others, and strong lover. Love and sex scenes of the film are intense as if they were real. The behavior of the actors and actresses in the film is convincingly human, i.e. people having their merits and shortcomings in their lives, there is no fictitious models of behavior. Almodovar, as usual, tries to reflect the reality. There are many good dramas in cinema but this one is probably one of the best.

Curious, seeing this after the smash hits of "Todo Sobre Mi Madre" and "Hable con Ella", because this movie sort of prepared the viewers to what was coming. Grabbing a solid and original story, Pedro Almodovar creates a movie that revolves around a strange set of characters, and on the process gives an excellent essay on the effect time has on people's lives. All the actors are top notch, specially the commanding Javier Bardem, who would later become an Oscar nominee with "Before Night Falls". Great music, cinematography and direction give this movie an even more satisfying look, and make this a well-achieved movie that ends up being the first part of an unofficial trilogy of Almodovar's best works.

One of Almodovar's favourite conceits is the use of old TV and movie images as ironic commentary on our modern lives. He loves the sheer trashiness of those millions of hours of low-grade output and he likes to mimic 1950's sitcom formats ("Women On The Verge") or to splice 'quotes' from old footage into his modern tales. It's a device which he uses very effectively in this film. When the gun is fired in the apartment, a shot rings out from the TV set in the corner. The fake news item of the bus birth, in black and white to represent the drabness of Franco's Spain, is a loving recreation of TV's golden age. Women are mannequins in these old TV shows, used by men as objects of prurient displays, and of violence. Our mass media have drugged us, suggests Almodovar, into being passive recipients of authority's handouts. We can no longer distinguish between entertainment and reality. David confronts Victor and wounds him in the testicles, but the two enemies are immediately distracted by the soccer game on TV and become 'guys together', forgetting their hatred in the communal false orgasm of the scored goal.

Names are always important in Almodovar films, and in this one they hold the key to the story's many meanings. Elena is Helen of Troy, the creature who radiates unconscious sexual appeal and leads men into war and destruction. Victor Plaza's name contains several layers of symbolic importance. He is the film's real victor, overcoming the misfortune of the shooting and his own sexual imbecility to attain true happiness in America. Many Spanish towns have a 'Plaza de la Victoria', a municipal tribute to the great historical sea triumph of Lepanto. In this sense Victor's name makes him the personification of ordinary Spanish life, a hispanic Everyman. Isabel Plaza Caballero, the prostitute whose wretched short life becomes a saintly image of suffering and continuity, has the name of Spain's great Catholic queen and the title of a 'gentlewoman'. For Almodovar there is no contradiction in a whore having nobility. Sancho is a kind of Sancho Panza to David's Quixote, the latter idealistic but impotent, the former iconoclastic and comical.

Almodovar's trademark is the looping circular plot in which the characters both repeat and vary their patterns of behaviour, crossing one another's paths and inadvertently echoing the actions of others. Nowhere is this better illustrated than here. The plot is almost literally circular, beginning and ending with childbirth in a wheeled vehicle, and Victor's life-defining moment hinging on the circular bus ride which brings him back to the identical spot where he started, a payphone on the Calle Eduardo Dato. The characters penetrate one another's lives in ways that are totally convincing, and with a grounding in human psychology which few writers or directors can display.

Opposites and contradictions are everywhere. Victor is the prison convict, the sexual inadequate born of a prostitute on a bus, who rises to become an admirable man, sexually proficient, successful, and a loving husband and father. Sancho the macho cop is a spiritual cripple, relying on alcohol to deaden the pain of his failure as a lover. David the real cripple is a national sporting hero. The mother is the whore, the charity director is the heroin addict and the naive lad is the jailbird. The welcome mat on Clara's threshold is the cruellest of ironies. Marriage and sexual coupling are the fabric of the story, but in fact everyone is cuckolded sooner or later. David used to 'service' Clara, now Victor performs that function, and the 'manly' Sancho is sexually redundant. Elena copulates with Victor at the dramatic climax, and we recall that it was a sexual encounter between these two which launched the whole story.

It is hard to watch Almodovar's work without thinking of Bunuel. The adolescent preoccupation with the 'obscure object of desire' is a good example. Almodovar is fascinated by the vagina, and over and over again in this film we see men's heads buried between women's legs. Two boy children emerge from wombs, David performs oral sex on Elena in the bath, Victor studies Clara's pudendum, David approaches Elena's genitalia along his wheelchair ramp. The great sloping twin towers of Madrid's Puerta de Europa form an architectural pun, a visual representation of a woman's open thighs. Victor's emotional speech at Isabel's burial site (apart from advancing the plot neatly) is one more image of a man's face in a woman's vagina, the grave being the ultimate womb. This particular vagina brought Victor into the world, and through its immoral earnings it gave him the money to live.

The first Christmas in the film, like the First Christmas, happens in a very unpromising setting. It is cold in Madrid in every sense. The final years of Franco's joyless, oppressive reign are conveyed very effectively in a restrained palette of blacks, browns and greys. A state of emergency has been declared by a faceless Authority, grown paranoid about the danger of 'outside influences'. Victor has entered a drab and frightened world, with a bus driver as his reluctant Joseph. By the close of the film Christmas has acquired its cheerful capitalist trappings. This is a 'Christmas in the sun'. Victor is in the young land of freedom and opportunity. He has come of age and is now the complete man. The future looks bright for the New David, father and son.

Something akin to a soap opera, but with much steamier scenes, Carne Trémula is an entertaining look at love, lust, and revenge. I enjoyed the way Almodovar served the story, one bit at a time, allowing for all the events to culminate in a very satisfying ending. Liberto Rabal gives a fine performance and Javier Bardem (of Jamon, Jamon and Boca a Boca), delivers yet another great acting achievement.

I saw this film both in the theater and on video. I found the movie much more effective in the theater. It's a great film to share with a large adult audience.

an amazing film. unpredictable, even to a film junkie and his or hers thousand films. Pedro is a true storyteller.this film withstands numerous viewings.as always, Pedro's bright color schemes make this one(too) a visual delight

Pedro Amoldovar's 'Live Flesh' is a stylish, original and watchable revenge-thriller, featuring not just a love triangle, but a love pentagon; moreover, one of the participants is that rare creation, a disabled character who inspires envy not pity. But there isn't too much substance beneath the surface: all the leading figures are gorgeous without being lovable, and while the central sex scene is certainly quite erotic, I don't imagine you'd see anything quite so arousing by sticking a camera in any real couple's bedroom. There is one theme behind the story, which is brought forward in the conclusion of the movie, and that is the changing face of Spain over the last quarter of the twentieth century; but the connection of this idea to the plot is slight. Overall, it's a film with interesting parts, but their sum is a little underwhelming.

Almodóvar seems to be following the rule-"Stick to one thing and do it well." As usual he was able to create great characters and involve good symbolism based on a story which is full of ridiculously impossible coincidences and the sometimes predictable, but always irrational behavior of the characters.

As in some of his other films, the story involves characters who seem to be completely led by fate and always bound to their destinies. Each of the characters goes through a radical transformation in a relatively short period of time. In the end, noone is innocent and all are victims, but there is a romantic hope for a brighter future and a new start at life.

I liked the new set of actors and actresses that were cast, and I would hope to see them cast differently in another film

His most beautiful film I've seen, with the greatest command of camera, story, and production in general. But why, oh why, does he need to believe that if the sex is good enough a woman will fall in love with a man?

Almodovar has always been the king of kitsch, the naughty, the pervert (who isn't anyway?), the generator of endless dirty language conversations, the good the bad and the ugly of the movie world. Well, he seems to have grown mature, but not tamed in that sense. He probably will be strongly criticized for the oral sex scene, on grounds that he is abusing disabled individuals, just like he was almost damned by feminists because of the looong rape scene in Kika. Well, although he seems to have moved away from his bright colors and chaotic chasing sequences, and although Live Flesh is to the best of my knowledge the first movie where he openly praises the post-Franco era, it was as tasteful as its predecessors. And who can build up such a web of events and relations better than Almodovar does, anyway?

Victor, the son of a prostitute, tries to hook up with Elena, a druggie with whom he'd had a previous tryst (his first). She resists, the cops are called, and there's a standoff between Victor and policemen David and Sancho. There's a struggle, and a gun is fired, leaving David paralyzed and sending Victor to jail.

When Victor gets out of jail, his mind is on bitter revenge, especially after he discovers that Elena, now clean and sober, has married the invalid David, who's now a paralympic basketball star. Victor gets a job working at the orphanage funded and operated by Elena (but he's not stalking her, no) and begins to romance Clara, the battered wife of Sancho.

Each of the five characters, unavoidably intertwined, is complex and morally ambiguous. What are Victor's true intentions? What, even more importantly, are his capabilities? Is Sancho properly haunted by his treatment of Clara and of that fateful night that brought him, David, and Victor together? If Clara does leave Sancho, where will she turn - or is she simply another turn-the-cheek spouse? Does David have a sense of moral superiority because he no longer has use of his lower limbs and therefore has suffered more than most people? And which is stronger, Elena's lust or her loyalty? The quintet, whose lives were forever changed that one night, find themselves drawn back together in a web of intrigue of their own design. All of the actors are fantastic, particularly Francesca Neri, as Elena, and Liberto Rabal, as Victor. The on screen chemistry among all five leads is palpable; no one feels they were just dropped into the movie indiscriminately. Pedro Almodovar's complicated tale is never preachy, and none of the characters are stereotypical. Not all cops are noble, not all drug addicts are irredeemable, not all orphanage operators are perfect, and not all criminals are despicable. Pretty obvious stuff in the real world, but in the land of movies characters are typically painted with as broad a brush as possible in order to appeal to as wide an audience as possible. The movie is tense without veering toward melodrama, and although it begins rather slowly, the final twenty minutes or so are unsettling, nerve-wracking suspense. I defy you to sit complacently while Elena approaches Victor's barrio apartment.

Pedro Almodóvar changed the way of making cinema in Spain; and doing it, he has impressed movie watchers around the world. You have seen his movies; they are a mix of cruelty that includes honesty and passion. Not honesty in Almodovar's characters, but in the way they are written, showing a tough reality. About passion, well, it occupies a place in every person, but is not always shown; Almodóvar takes care of that.

He introduces you to the characters in the story, then he starts to develop a plot that you're going to see, even if it is predictable. Víctor (Liberto Rabal) has lost, or not, his virginity with one woman (older than him). He's not an expert when it comes to casual sex, but she wants to see this woman again, and doesn't understand why she acts like she didn't care what happened. The thing is he doesn't know she does it every week. Then we see David (Javier Bardem) and Sancho (José Sancho) working in their car. They are cops. David is honest and professional, Sancho is alcoholic and incontrollable; his wife, Clara (Ángela Molina), cheats him with another man. Sancho loves her, but beats her and keeps her locked in the house. The one who connects them all is Elena. Víctor fights with her, the police arrives, someone is shot and we see a frame that shows the movie some years later.

The person who was shot is David, who walks (well, he doesn't walk) in a wheel-chair. David saved Elena's life; they're married. Víctor is getting out of jail; he shot David. Sancho is in the same situation with his wife. Now Víctor is angry, and plans his revenge; eventually he meets Clara, and follows Elena, and everything is connected again, until the end.

Javier Bardem is excellent as David. He can cry while he talks and convince you that he is suffering. He is the finest Spanish actor, and it was wonderful to see him fighting against his character's decisions to do the things he has to.

Francesca Neri didn't seem Spanish while I was watching the film. She isn't, but she has the looks of a "femme fatally", and that was perfect for her role, which connected everything and had the strongest lines.

José Sancho gives a good support as Sancho, reaching the extremes with his face. His character is doomed, because what happens to him now is not going to stop, and the worst part is that he knows it.

Ángela Molina doesn't have the chance to shine, but still does a decent work, with what she has got. She can't be having sex with one only man, and she shows it.

Liberto Rabal doesn't show much acting talent, he's not the mos experienced in the cast, but somehow, when he talks, he seems not right, but perfect, for his role. Listen to him at the end and you'll see.

Almovodar is gifted and he proves it in each frame of this tale. You need to look at every part of the shot to see the details he is giving to the piece. Look at the sexual scenes; the balance he achieves: it's not so strong, but not soft either. It's subtle. His way of directing the actors is amazing. He writes the movie, and knows it more than anyone, so you know he is there to tell the cast what to do, and help them obtain their amazing performances. It's a visual style with life of its own.

I said it. There's cruelty and honesty at the same time. There's passion. There's betrayal, lies, sex. You see it in the characters, in their words. When David arrives home and sees his wife Elena in bed, and starts to touch her; she doesn't like it. "What's the matter?", he asks. "It hurts", Elena answers. "Why?", he says. And with a face that involves everything I'm talking about, she looks at him: "Because I've been having sex all night"

Here we have an original, dramatic, funny, intimate, colourful and excitant film. An original story, brilliant performances by good actors as Ángela Molina and Pepe Sancho, a good selection of colours, good background music, correct editing... Many good things. Now for the bad things: The characters don't do the story, they are just guided by it. Thus, the situations are (as in almost every Almodóvar's) pretty unbelievable (although possible). The description of the characters (not the characters in themselves) is very simple. Javier Bardem does not convince as the main character, Liberto Rabal makes an almost correct performance (but nothing else), and some situations (the TV goal scene after Javier Bardem punching Liberto Rabal) are so unrealistic that they look inopportunely comic. My opinion: it's not a good film, but it's not so bad to be avoided.

Victor is a proletarian guy, born on bus by a mother working as a prostitute (shown in an overlong introduction and pointless to the rest of the movie) who falls for Elena, an upper class junkie. Actually, he just has casual sex with her once and becomes erotically obsessed with her.

He stalks her to her apartment and stubbornly refuses to leave her alone. A fight ensues and Sancho and David, a couple of cops appear on the scene. David gets paralyzed by a gunshot and ends up married to Elena.

Victor gets to jail, but he is still obsessed with Elena and continues stalking her once he gets out four years later. Already unconvincing, the story takes a turn for the absurd when Elena shows a growing interest for Victor, who continues to confuse obsession with love.

In the meantime, Victor is also sexually involved with Clara, Sancho's wife (very believable plot twist). Clara is giving him lessons to become the best lover in the world, Victor's top ambition so as to astonish Elena with his performance. It sounds like a demented plot, but I am not making it up.

Probably one of the weakest Almodovar's films, it contains the inevitable steamy sex scene, which are Almodovar trademark and it is disgraced even further by an absurd "happy ending", which sees stalker and prey happily together, while Elena is giving birth to their child on a car (back to the start, in a sort of circular move).

P.S. to make the matter worse, throughout the whole movie Victor blames Elena, David and everybody else for his misfortunes, conveniently avoiding to notice that the whole drama arose from his obsession.

Spain, more than most nations, has to deal with its ghosts. The Franco years were a time of enforced stasis, a period when no creativity was allowed to thrive, and progress of any kind was suppressed ruthlessly. A false mentality was imposed on the nation, a communal fantasy looking back in time to a supposedly innocent 'golden age'. Spaniards were forced to see themselves and their culture in terms of Carmens and castanets, fans and fandangos. A people was frozen in time for forty years, and fed on a diet of synthetic movies and novels which summoned up a sexless, crime-free rural idyll, Franco's concept of nationhood. While the West had the Rolling Stones, Spain had troubadors in sombreros. The galloping modernity which has transformed Spanish society in a single generation has given the young adults of today an interesting 'window' on history. While the West has moved smoothly from Sinatra to Sid Vicious, from Marilyn Munroe to Marilyn Manson, Spain has a deep chasm between today and yesterday. Almodovar is intensely concerned with this gap, and his films serve two functions in respect of it. They analyse the social forces which created it (and were spawned by it), and they help Spain to bridge the barranco. It is time now for Spain to move on. When Elena meets Victor for one final date, the purpose of the sexual coupling is to wipe out the guilt which clings to their shared past.

New and Old clash on every street corner. We hear a soundtrack of anodyne 'traditional' songs overlaid on scenes of black immigrants doing drug deals. Sancho is a model of old-fashioned manhood who tries, but fails, to castrate the New Man, Victor. The house left to Victor by his mother is out in the northern satellits township of Ventilla, a working-class ghetto of high-rise tenements, Franco's already-rotting 'solution' to Spain's social problems.

Cinematically, "Carne Tremula" is second only to "Todo Sobre Mi Madre" as an example of Almodovar's assured command of the film-maker's craft. Transitions are especially well-done. A bus door opens and we see, through the cab, Victor standing, waiting to board. This is the portal of movement opening for Victor, the boy with the gift of lifetime freedom of the buses (symbolically, the 'new' Spaniard, born to a life of movement). Clara remembers her first sexual intercourse, and looks at a photo of herself in First Communion dress. Both events were first communions, both were rites of passage, abandoning the childhood phase. Almodovar moves the action forward from 1980's Madrid to Barcelona in the Olympic Year (1992) by showing the olympic logo on the cycle track, viewed from overhead, as the cyclists cross it. To end Victor's prison sequence, a bus (always his symbol) passes right to left, 'wiping' the prison and revealing the free man. Sancho the housebound husband is re-introduced with power and economy when Clara crosses her own 'welcome' mat to be greeted by him. Fire, earth, ice and water are used as 'gates' in the narrative, marking new beginnings (for example, Clara's frying-pan catches fire because Victor distracts her by announcing the end of the affair). Isabel's waters break on the bus, and we see men in water at moments of 're-birth' (David in the bath, newly secure in the permanence of Elena's love).

Stalking is a strong theme, Almodovar inverting and perverting the idea of sexual arousal and pursuit. Voyeurism can be innocent and healthy (young Victor watching Elena in her apartment) but becomes sick when the watcher is impotent and jealous (David filming the Victor-Clara couplings). Victor pursues Elena, even wearing a wolf's head in order to close in on her.

Clara is the woman with no sense of direction, whose emotional life is arid. She depends on but does not love the useless Sancho. She loves but cannot possess the sexually potent Victor. The mutual gunning-down of Clara and Sancho is pre-ordained, both in the earlier attempt, and in the shooting by which Sancho launched the narrative.

Elena, like many young bourgeois adults, had a heroin phase in her teen years, but has put that behind her and leads a useful and caring life. However, character is fate. She cannot escape the consequences of her sexual union with Victor. The 'final date' is the powerful climax of the film, the fatal destiny to which all of these characters are tending. It speaks volumes of Almodovar's talent that his highly-improbable last reel, with all of the central characters converging on one spot, is entirely believable.

In a film predicated on contradictions, David is contradiction personified. The sporting champion with no life in his penis, the good man who cuckolded his friend and partner, the hero of the stand-off in the apartment who becomes the raging jealous spectator on the sidelines, David is both admirable and despicable. His obsession with basketball is psychologically neat - a sublimation of his damaged machismo - and also a devastating revelation. The wheelchairs swoop around the court in a Busby Berkley parody of athleticism, and the ball pops into the basket in clever mimicry of the coitus for which this is David's substitute.

And Victor? He is the picaro, the innocent who is always on the move, never comprehending the forces acting upon him, yet never defeated by those forces. His 'life on wheels' is the true life, in contrast with David's sterile life-in-death on wheels. Victor, alone of all the characters, grows because of his suffering. Franco's Spain was static, but Victor has broken free of that prison, and is dynamic. He moves. Thus is he the true victor.

This Pedro Almodovar movie was the second film – after The Flower of My Secret – where he toned things down and went for a more serious approach. Having said that, it's still very much a melodrama. Its story is simultaneously simple and complex. It basically is about how one gunshot changes the lives of five people. It starts out appearing one way but as we get to know the participants we discover their differing motivations on that fateful night. Everyone seems to be suffering because of the actions of another. Every character is a shade of grey, no one is innocent and the film is about guilt and redemption as much as anything. Once you think back on the story you only then realise how complex a web of deceit and betrayal has been woven by all of the participants. Some have also mentioned that it is an allegorical story about Spain's recent history. While there is an interesting opening segment set in 1970 in Franco's regime, I honestly couldn't tell you what the allegory actually is. Maybe it's a cultural thing or perhaps I'm just too dumb to have noticed. But regardless of this, Live Flesh can easily be appreciated without this.

I don't understand people writing here this movie is a soap opera. OK it's about relationships and it's not a character sketch, but it's also a well done movie with some very strong moments and some fine details.

Once again, Almodovar doesn not fail to demonstrate his masterful skills in casting intricate webs of human relationships of lust and love and his superb cinematic story-telling.

In the very limited timeframe of slightly longer than one and a half hour, the audience is treated to a fast-paced and mysterious love pentagon which stems from one person to another person and which eventually cast a web tangling the five main characters inexplicably. The conflicts between love and lust, guilt and innocence, love and sympathy, trust and control, an old, dark and cynical police state of Spain and a brave, outspoken and contemporary Spain……all fused into a melting pot of a heart-throbbing and colourful romance thriller.

One of the less flamboyant but more accessible piece from Almodovar.

Live Flesh leaves me feeling like I've taken a dizzying ride through a twisted carnival of intimacy and toxicity. It's like director Pedro Almodóvar invites us to embrace the intoxicating allure of desire, even when it teeters on the precipice of obsession.

Victor, our protagonist, is creepy, sex-crazy, and utterly clueless about the meaning of "No means No." His relentless pursuit borders on stalker territory, and it's really uncomfortable to watch. Elena and the rest of the characters in the film don't fare much better. It's as if they're all governed solely by their primal desires, acting on carnal lusts without much thought or consideration. Almodóvar seems to suggest that if the sex is hot enough, love will magically bloom, and it's fate at play.

Strangely enough, Live Flesh manages to make this absurd premise somewhat believable, or at least convincible, depending on how deep you're willing to dive into the absurdity pool. It's a testament to Almodóvar's filmmaking prowess that he can weave a narrative so steeped in nonsense and yet somehow make it convincing. The film's climax (pun not intended), featuring a steamy sex scene, is so passionate that it tiptoes on the edge of becoming outright erotica. In that moment, you find yourself almost persuaded that they're doing the right thing, that they genuinely love each other, and that it's fate pulling the strings.

And that's the exceptional thing about Live Flesh. It can wrap you up in its sensuality, making you temporarily forget about the silliness that surrounds it. It's a film that leaves you dazed and confused, and yet strangely captivated by the raw intensity of its characters' desires. It blurs the lines between passion and obsession, leaving you both bewildered and strangely enthralled by its peculiar spell.

This film opens in Franco's Spain in the 1970s as baby Victor is born on a bus. Twenty years later Spain is a different country but Victor's life isn't great and it is about to get worse. A week after his first sexual encounter he believes he is now in a relationship; unfortunately the woman, Elena, feels differently; when he goes to see her she tells him to leave and threatens him with a gun. It goes off and the police are called. Officers David de Paz and his partner, Sancho, turn up and the situation escalates; David is shot and crippled; Victor is sent to Jail.

While Victor serves his time his mother dies and he learns that David has married Elena; he blames them for his suffering so decides to get revenge. Once out he has a chance meeting with Elena in a cemetery. While there he also meets Clara, the wife of David's partner; they are soon having an affair which David learns about. Victor is still interested in Elena and tries to get closer to her; David is understandably furious... it looks as though things will quickly get dangerous.

This film is typical of Pablo Almodóvar; fans should enjoy it. They are the usual slightly exaggerated, but still believable, characters who live soap-opera lives. Each of the characters has their flaws but they are still mostly likeable. The story provides plenty of really tense moments as well as a number of sexy scenes. The latter don't feel forced as they are intrinsic to the story. The story is intimate with few extraneous characters. There is a wit to the story with plenty of amusing moments; again these feel entirely natural. The cast does a fine job; most notably Liberto Rabal, as Victor; Javier Bardem, David; Francesca Neri, as Elena and Angela Molina as Clara; each make their characters feel like real people. Overall I'd definitely recommend this to fans of other Almodóvar films or people wanting a grown up drama featuring interesting but believable characters.

These comments are based on watching the film in Spanish with English subtitles.

I read the book by Ruth Rendell. Usually the book is different than the movie and often better. That's true here. The similarities between the book and movie end with the title. I also liked the book. The movie was implausible, sappy, unnecessarily crude, and slow. Read the book. It is much better.

It seems that 100 years of history of cinema has been wasted in a bad romantic melodrama, comparable to soap operas, this movie is worthless. Pedro Almodovar seems to had such a bad time making this horrible "master work".