What's most pleasing and difficult about Almodovar's films is that they're often closer to poems than they are to conventional stories; like a child with a coloring book, Almodovar cares more about the colors than the lines. In this case, the color red and ghosts and Penelope Cruz's eyes make for a beautiful poem about why we need the idea of ghosts. Also, why is it that the French get all the credit for being bat-shit crazy when Spanish women are not so bad at le fou themselves? A-
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