The film details the journey of five women, bound together by an emotional bond that is never spoken of, but seeps through every ounce of blood in their systems. At the heart is 38-year-old Manuela (Cecilia Roth), a devoted single mother who witnesses her 17-year-old son Esteban – her only source of hope in life – hit and killed by a car one rainy night. And through Almodóvar’s passionate lens, it is one of the most heart-wrenching moments of any film I’ve ever seen. Shot in the perspective of Manuela and then Esteban, we see a desperate mother running towards, crying in agony as the image of her blurs and fades from her dying son’s eyes. In that moment, everything he has meant to her, and everything she has held back from him (like the identity of the father he never knew) comes flooding back in a torrent of emotional destruction.

      In one of the film’s grandiose ironic tragedies -- which in any other film would seem excessive, but in this film seem truly tangible – Manuela, who works as a nurse in the ICU of a nearby hospital, is forced to decide whether to donate her son’s heart to a needing recipient, a situation she has dealt with many times before on the other side of the table. In a brilliant performance by Cecilia Roth, we see Manuela as vulnerable yet strong, and her resolve to reconstruct her life becomes the motivating force behind the film. She is enchanting, and a beautiful reminder of the classic women’s pictures of the 40s and 50s, which the film pays wonderful homage to.

      Trying to put the tragedy behind her, Manuela leaves Madrid for the bustling, chaotic atmosphere of Barcelona, where she reconnects with her old friend Agrado, a hilarious transsexual hooker who also had a relationship with Esteban’s father. His father is an important mystery in the film, a memory so difficult that Manuela cannot bear even discussing it to others. In Barcelona, the film expands in complexity and convolution, as Manuela befriends both an older stage-actress and a young nun (Penelope Cruz), mending her sorrow by helping their troubled lives. Almodóvar seamlessly weaves between the characters, subtly forming a bond that unites the entire film in a strength and resolve that needs no explanation. Visually, he uses the colorful and striking persona of the city to parallel the flood of emotions he keeps intelligently controlled within the film.

      Almodóvar is a fascinating storyteller. His style breathes passion into a medium that seems to have lost much of that magic. “All About My Mother” is an unconventional film that lays roots in the most fundamental of journeys, and in so doing gives us all hope.

Stephen Wong, 2002