“Strange Way of Life” (2023) is Pedro Almodovar’s latest film, a thirty-one-minute short and his second English-language film. Set in the nineteenth century Wild West, Silva (Pedro Pascal) rides across the desert and into town to meet up with his former lover and former hired gun partner, Sheriff Jake (Ethan Hawke), who is suspicious of Silva’s motives, especially since he just received his latest assignment.
“Strange Way of Life” is a male-dominated film except for a brief flashback of a younger Silva and Jake carousing with some ladies of the night. Women are discussed and appear in photographs but are otherwise irrelevant, merely a pretext for men to gather. In a genre such as a Western, the absence of women does not raise eyebrows, but in an Almodovar film, there is a deliberate added homoerotic connotation. Gunslingers evokes a double entendre in this context. Silva is the only character willing to live on either side of the fence: the masculine willingness to be violent and to be attracted to/prefer the company of men. Jake occupies a more traditional role. Choosing a career in law enforcement reflects that he is less comfortable coloring outside of the lines, but behind closed doors and outside of the public gaze, he will be more honest about his desires. Otherwise Jake believes that he chooses his work out of a sense of justice, not to have a reason to be close to and pursue Silva. When he grabs his rifle, he does not even have time to lock up the rest of the guns, but it is under the guise of duty, not desire.
Without giving away a lot about the plot, “Strange Way of Life” is about the ambiguity of their reunion. Jake keeps pushing Silva into a traditional role as the potential outlaw trying to subvert justice and rejects any possibility that it is about love. Jake is more comfortable with a hostile ulterior motive than a romantic overt one. The only acceptable form of male physical touch is aggression. Masculine normative behavior favors a possibility of death over a lifetime of love. Jake projects on Silva because he needs cover stories. Silva does not believe that his motives are mutually exclusive or conflicting. If Silva must outman Jake to care for him, he is willing to do so. Remember that Almodovar films often link hostile action with true love: “Matador” (1986), “Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!” (1989), etc.
While Almodovar has done period pieces before, his films have never predated his lifetime. His rendition of nineteenth century memory feels as if he was trying to evoke a mood, not depict the era accurately. Other than Pascal and Hawke, the supporting cast felt wooden. The Singer (Manu Rios) sings in Spanish and has a feminine voice, but an inscrutable face. The song evokes a range of emotions in Silva, but without subtitles, it is hard to determine how it fits in with the broader story. Later research uncovered that the movie title is a translation of a 1960s Fado song about “no stranger existence than the one that is lived by turning your back on your own desires.” The Singer is one of several gorgeous men acting as wallpaper, including Silva’s son (George Steane) and the Sheriff’s Deputy (Daniel Rived), whom Almodovar shoots as sitting behind a desk in the background of Silva and Jake’s first meeting. His presence denies them privacy, and he is literally the only thing standing between them. These young men feel as if they belong in another movie and are oddly inert.
Bad acting is easier to spot if the actor is not speaking in their native tongue and speaking the viewers’ language. As an American who has watched Almodovar’s films for decades, I prefer when his films are in Spanish. The extra delay of reading subtitles and not understanding what the characters are saying makes the dialogue feel less melodramatic, but in English, without those obstacles, it is harder to forget that it is a movie instead of allowing the story and its characters to sweep you away. Add pretty boys with leaden tongues delivering the dialogue, the suspension of disbelief shatters. What some may call bedroom eyes to others look like dead, soulless eyes. When Silva and his son talk to each other, the difference in acting quality is painful. A high school level, theater kid would be more prepared to work with Pascal.
Almodovar produced “Strange Way of Life” with Yves Saint Laurent, and the French luxury fashion house’s head designer, Anthony Vaccarello, who served as an associate producer and costume designer. YSL’s involvement may explain why the supporting cast makes the short feel more like a mood and a commercial shoot than an integral part of the film. How are the clothes? From a distance, Silva’s jacket looks like it is turquoise, but upon closer examination, it is bright green worn with a red patterned shirt. During later calmer moments, Silva wears a yellow shirt back at his ranch. The rest of the cast is dressed in black clothes. If someone was not paying close attention to the credits, the clothes would not have stood out; however, the interior design of the interior locations did, and each character’s stylistic choices reflected their psychology. Jake appears simple and straightforward, but his private spaces are more ornate and feminine—like his underwear.
One benefit of choosing to watch more shorts is understanding why Almodovar’s short does not quite work despite the elevated production values, strong lead actors and wealth of experience behind the camera. The best shorts are self-contained films that work in isolation. A viewer may want more but does not need more after the film ends. A short film should not try to contain everything that would happen in a feature length film. “Strange Way of Life” is an exaggerated film, and when it ends, it feels unfinished. It feels as if Almodovar had more to say.
For some fellow reviewers, “Strange Way of Life” was their first Almodovar film. Is it emblematic of his other films? Thematically and in terms of his color palette, sure, but would I recommend people see this short over any of his other features? Absolutely not. Most of Almodovar’s films are unpredictable, emotional journeys whereas this short feels like Almodovar decided to combine “Pain and Glory” (2019) and “Brokeback Mountain” (2005), which Almodovar considered directing and passed. With that said, fans of Pascal’s butt should see the film because from the moment that he dismounts from his horse, Almodovar kept his camera on dat ass.
In Boston, “Strange Way of Life” will be playing at the Coolidge Corner Theater as a double feature with “The Human Voice” (2020), which I saw on HBO, was not into. I always planned to revisit Almodovar’s first short and give his first English-speaking film a second chance. It is not available for viewing anywhere else. Even flawed Almodovar is worth an outing to the theater.
