Nearly anyone of Portuguese descent (particularly those of us who grew up with family members dedicated to preserving every piece of the culture as possible) will be somewhat familiar with Amália Rodrigues and her astonishing voice, particularly in her landmark song, “Estranha forma de vida” (“Strange Way of Life”), in which a cursory glance will suggest that she is singing about a failed former romance when in reality it a song about anxiety and despair, and the feeling of isolation in a world that quite simply does not make much sense. Not many songs come across as particularly cinematic, and even this one feels too abstract to be a solid foundation for a larger piece of art – but if anyone would be capable of constructing it into something memorable, it would be Pedro Almodóvar, who uses this sound as the foundation for Strange Way of Life, his second foray into English-language filmmaking, as well as his second in what appears to be a return to short-form filmmaking. We know that this song was an inspiration since the director starts the film with a hauntingly beautiful rendition (sung by Manu Rios, whose voice is the perfect blend of masculine and feminine, the ambiguity foreshadowing the concept of fluidity that would later come into play throughout the film), which situates us in this bizarre but enticing version of the world as seen through the eyes of one of the great filmmakers of his generation. It may be much shorter than we may like, and it doesn’t quite manage to flesh out all of its ideas but taken for what it is, we find that Strange Way of Life is a compelling, intriguing Western drama that explores several captivating themes with vigour and incredible complexity, resulting in a poignant and enthralling examination of desire and despair, and how the concept of love remains universal and timeless.

While his work is rooted in reality more often than not (or at least takes part in some recognizable version of it), one of the first important lessons we learn about Almodóvar as a director is that he is not going to pursue authenticity if it isn’t necessary and that he will go in his direction for the sake of having his specific vision realized. Strange Way of Life has gotten substantial criticism for its supposed anachronisms, as well as the lack of a coherent setting (both geographically and in terms of era) – but this is only a concern for those who place too much credibility on realism, which is not something that we necessarily would imagine factoring too heavily into Almodóvar’s work, especially not when making something so obviously abstract. There is not a moment in this film where we are led to believe that the director was striving for gritty authenticity or anything that is steeped in reality to the extent where it is defined by its socio-cultural milieux, since on both a narrative and visual level, the film is very much focused on creating a certain atmosphere, one that is slightly off-centre but not any less intriguing. Once again, the director hires regular collaborator José Luis Alcaine as cinematographer, and once again proves that his compositions are extraordinary, and the way he captures colours is incredible, credit must go to the team responsible for the art direction and costume design since every aspect of the world in which this film exists is stunning and unforgettable. Almodóvar has occasionally made films that navigate the very narrow boundary between intentional artifice and unhinged excess. While a couple did slightly stumble, Strange Way of Life proves that he could find the perfect balance between style and substance, perhaps more than any of his contemporaries, which is precisely why he has remained one of the most exciting artists working in cinema for the past five decades.

Strange Way of Life is ultimately a film built on emotions more than anything else, which is why it has proven to be quite divisive. There is a plot, and it does follow a coherent structure, albeit only to a certain point, after which it becomes about the atmosphere more than the story. Almodóvar has worked with abstract themes on several occasions, and several of his films are intentionally more peculiar or opaque when it comes to exploring certain themes. We are misled into thinking that the length of this film will somehow make it seem more concise and give it a neater perspective when in reality it functions primarily as a mood poem, a series of moments in the lives of these two characters as they try and resolve their underlying tensions, which are both based around their different perspectives on morality and formed from psychosexual desire, their deep longing that is unquenchable and interminable – much like the song that inspired the title, Strange Way of Life explores the feeling of rekindling a relationship with a past lover, which becomes even more difficult when that person is so opposed to the point where the two parties are almost in direct combat, whether literal physical encounters or the emotional tensions, which some may claim are more harrowing since they point to something that is both innate and unsettling. Almodóvar has always had a remarkable aptitude when it comes to choosing the right mood for his films, and for this one, he draws on the fundamental emotion of desire as he explores the relationship between these two men, leaping between past and present in the development of this bold and daring drama.

Almodóvar’s decision to attempt to make films in English must have been an exciting moment for many people in and around the industry since suddenly one of the world’s most beloved filmmakers was making himself available for collaborations with a wider set of participants. Previously, he had harnessed Tilda Swinton’s incredible expressivity for The Human Voice, and now he has constructed something slightly more ambitious in terms of a two-hander western, in which we are introduced to two men who could not be more different in terms of temperament, disposition or function within society, but yet are integral parts of the other’s lives, especially when they are momentarily reunited in a time of immense tension, but where their love (while later contentious) has stood the test of time. To bring these characters to life, Almodóvar hires Ethan Hawke and Pedro Pascal, two remarkably gifted actors capable of such extraordinary depth in any film, they seemed like a perfect fit for the director’s world, especially one in which they are asked to plumb the emotional depths of these characters. It isn’t revolutionary work for either actor (very few actors would be able to turn in their best work in a film that barely crosses the half-hour mark), but rather solid, memorable performances from a pair of actors who implicitly understand what is being asked of them, as well as finding the smallest and more intricate details that define these individuals. Both Hawke and Pascal are terrific, and bring such extraordinary humanity to the roles, which helps elevate the film and make it seem so much more endearing, something that may not have been the case with less-gifted actors cast to play these parts.

Speaking about a film like Strange Way of Life is quite difficult since this is not a particularly long film, and it does feel slightly disadvantaged by its length. Unlike The Human Voice, which felt like a complete work (undoubtedly a result of it being structured along the lines of the Jean Genet text), this feels like a much shorter version of what could have been a feature-length film, and its rapid pace and abrupt ending does mean we are likely going to step away from this film desiring more than we received, which is surprising considering Almodóvar is not a filmmaker who avoids giving his audiences some degree of a satisfying ending, even if it is a frustrating one. This doesn’t invalidate the brilliance of this film. The director remains at the absolute peak of his creativity with this film – we have to wonder whether choosing to compress this fascinating story into 31 minutes was due to his reluctance to make a feature entirely in English, something that he has been circling doing for several years now, but yet never comes to fruition for one reason or another. There is even an argument to be made that Almodóvar made this film as a way of responding to the fact that he was initially set to helm Brokeback Mountain, and it is difficult to not see some overlap – they are both Westerns focused on queer love and the insatiable desire that exists between two men as they negotiate their masculinity. Yet, Strange Way of Life allows Almodóvar more freedom than the other film ever could, and both narratively and creatively, he takes some extremely bold strokes that are difficult to not appreciate. Stunningly beautiful and thought-provoking in ways that can sometimes be quite surprising, but yet is still grounded in a simple and poetic story of desire, and how we go to any lengths to preserve the past in our minds, even if it is futile to try and rekindle the spark – but perhaps the memories are worth more than the future in any case, something that this film explores rigorously and with nothing short of the most sincere meaning.