For nearly half a century, we have witnessed the excruciatingly brilliant work of Pedro Almodóvar, whose efforts to find the perfect balance between highbrow artistry and intentional bad taste have resulted in several remarkable works of cinema that have challenged and unsettled in equal measure. The very definition of a provocateur whose artistic curiosities have given him quite a distinctly perverse worldview, the director has been responsible for some truly challenging films that are as unsettling as they are wildly entertaining. While he has settled into a more placid (but not any less daring) approach to filmmaking in his older years, there was a time when every new film by Almodóvar seemed to be made to be more shocking and deranged than the last, with his efforts to push every available boundary being a defining feature of his long but fascinating career. One of his most daring films is Kika, hailed as one of his most callous and titillating works, for reasons that encapsulate everything that has made him such a unique and visionary voice in arthouse cinema. The film focuses on the exploits of the titular character. This eccentric but well-meaning makeup artist finds herself at the centre of a criminal conspiracy when she encounters an escaped convict who holds her hostage – and even after she manages to escape his clutches (after a long bout of sexual violence), she discovers that sinister forces are lingering around her modest home, particularly relating to the bizarre relationship between one of her clients and his stepson, which plunges her into a state of existential dread. Far darker in theory than it is in execution, but still defined by a unique amount of depth and a dazzling directorial approach, Kika is one of Almodóvar’s most fascinating films, and a perfect summation of his unconventional but brilliant vision that has allowed him to create a distinct style that combines dark humour, surrealism and social commentary (recurring components of his films), reworking these elements into one of the most revealing glimpses into contemporary society we’ve encountered from a filmmaker who has always demonstrated having the most firm grasp on the cultural pulse.

Almodóvar is one of the rare filmmakers whose work seems to be immune to ageing – the actors may get older and the specifics of their milieux may become more contemporary as we venture closer to the present day, but the films themselves consistently feel extremely modern, both in terms of style and substance, and its not uncommon to find work that feels profoundly ahead of its time. Kika is one such film, proving to have a perspective that borders on being cutting-edge, particularly for the era in which it took place. The theme that Almodóvar is aiming to lampoon, or at least the central motif of the film, is that of reality television. Even at the time in which Kika was made, the global population had descended into a state where we were continuously transfixed by tabloid programming, shows that contained very little (if any) cultural nuance or intellectual depth, and instead focused on the most sordid and unsavoury details of society, which we consumed at a rapid pace as a result of the people behind the shows being able to pander to our most animalistic cravings for tawdry, tacky content. Over three decades later, not only has very little changed, but it has become an even more profitable industry. Kika takes aim at this kind of content, exploring the impact it can have on those who fall victim to its deceptive charms as we would expect from Almodóvar, the execution is heightened and borders on ludicrous, but the message is extremely strong and paints a haunting portrait of the collective fascination we have with stories of degenerates. This film strikes quite a raw nerve in that it centres on someone who is seemingly absent from the population and finds themselves frequently seeking out cheap thrills, and yet she becomes one of its many victims as a result of her forgiving and gullible nature. Kika is a truly radical work and proves to be quite a sobering and terrifying look at the nature of reality television, which has proven to be a destructive force in how it allows audiences to indulge in the most abominable depictions of humanity and its more disreputable components.

Unsurprisingly, the dark, insidious thematic content of the film is not entirely represented by the overall execution, which is a far more fluid and flexible examination of these ideas and which is essentially par for the course with Almodóvar, who is in his element when telling this brilliantly deranged story. Despite the incredibly unsettling nature of the narrative, Kika is a bold and ambitious comedy that is equally as delightful as it is dark, a combination that very few directors could effectively convey without it becoming too heavy-handed or unnecessarily flippant. The most fascinating quality about Almodóvar’s endeavours to explore subject matter that is often uncomfortable and harrowing is that he finds the perfect balance between ideas, and chooses the most radical and experimental way to represent them on screen. As a result, we find that Kika is a perverse and shockingly funny examination of social conventions, leaping into a story that contains some of the most vile and rank depictions of human depravity, but rendered in such vivid colour and detail. The disconnect between the themes of his work and their visual manifestation is one of the central components that keep this film entertaining and engaging – the constant sense of despair coupled with the bright, over-the-top aesthetic is intentionally designed to stir confusion and conflict in the viewer, and Almodóvar perfectly represents the various aspects of the story in a way that keeps us entirely invested. Kika plays like an old-fashioned pulp crime thriller, albeit one that has been laden with the most vulgar and deranged graffiti that makes it feel extremely modern and daring. This film is the product of a director whose disturbed perspective is only secondary to his playful artistic approach, and his willingness to sacrifice conventions for the sake of giving the audience a true experience. The simple premise at the heart of this film is complicated by the sense of genuine dread, the two working in tandem to create a vibrant and captivating dark comedy that touches on the darkest recesses of society in such dazzling detail.

Throughout his career, the director has amassed a solid group of collaborators who frequently recur through his films, coming to be collectively referred to as the “Chicas Almodóvar”, which includes many of the most gifted actors from Spain and the rest of the Latino-Iberican world (and more recently a few selected from outside this niche), who usually find some of their very best work done under his careful direction, which consistently brings out their most intriguing and unique attributes. Kika is anchored by Verónica Forqué in her third collaboration with the director, and her first leading role under his guidance. She’s tremendous in the part of this lovable makeup artist who accidentally finds herself involved in quite a sinister series of events, particularly because the part called for an actor who could effectively portray the innocence and charm of the character without making her into someone who lacks social skills or any sense of self-awareness but rather is capable of finding the underlying nuances that make the character so compelling. She’s joined by a terrific supporting cast, which includes character actor Peter Coyote in a rare non-English performance, the always wonderful Rossy de Palma, who is always a delight when she appears in one of the director’s films, and Victoria Abril as the film’s primary villain, a monstrous television host who will do anything for a scoop, even if it means betraying the morals and social conventions that she has spent her life trying to establish, and which prove to be extremely fleeting once she catches wind of some potential opportunity to further her already sinister career. The actors play off each other well, and the only reason Kika manages to retain such a consistently interesting tone is that the cast manages to find the intricate details beneath every character, which prove to be the foundation for a truly tremendous and shocking dark comedy.

Over thirty years later, Kika remains one of Almodóvar’s most daring films, and there is certainly a valid argument to be made that it’s his most deranged. Whether we are looking at its bizarre statements on religious belief and the cult-like adoration we have for reality television, or in the lengthy and macabre scenes of sexual violence and criminal behaviour, the director is pushing boundaries many may not have even realized existed, giving the film a unique tone and a sense of intrigue that is most welcomed amongst those acclimated to his style. It’s unlikely that neophytes to his work will find Kika to be particularly effective, especially since so much of the appeal of this film comes in the sense of self-referential humour that the director peppers in liberally throughout the story, and its sometimes explicit content can be unsettling for those who don’t realize how Almodóvar uses sexuality and violence as an artistic device, rather than condoning these acts. However, for those seasoned to his perspective, this film proves to be a delight – he crosses a few moral boundaries but does so in a way that feels like it is contributing something to the conversation rather than just being shocking for the sake of confusing and unsettling viewers (even at his most provocative, the director rarely courts controversy without reason), which gives it a very unique perspective. Kika is one of Almodóvar’s most fascinating efforts – it’s an experimental dark comedy that aims to a concept that has essentially been ingrained in the global culture, doing so many years before the numerous conversations around the harmful nature of tabloid programming can be, proving that (like many of his films), this was radically ahead of its time. Consistent in its refusal to play by the rules, and driven by a genuine desire to ruffle feathers and present a unique perspective on common ideas, Kika is an exceptional piece of cinema and work that remains daring and provocative, even by today’s standards.