The further one leaps into the careers of artists they admire, the more likely they are to find works that are not only great representations of their creativity, but also serve as clear building blocks that assist in creating their distinctive style. In the case of Pedro Almodóvar, he started as an agent provocateur at a time when cinema was gradually becoming work willing to succumb to a growing libertine agenda, of which he was one of the foremost authorities. However, while we can relish in the delightful perversions of Dark Habits or What Have I Done to Deserve This?, the reason why Almodóvar grew from an incendiary artist rebel to arguably the most respected European filmmaker of his generation is because he was willing to experiment, tinkering with both his narrative style and visual approach to create films that pushed the boundaries of the medium in terms of both form and content. One of his most integral works is Law of Desire (Spanish: La ley del deseo), in which the acclaimed director weaves a yarn about a love triangle between a playwright, his lovelorn boyfriend and the loose-cannon heir to an intercultural family that finds himself invigorated after a chance encounter with the protagonist, which creates an abundance of tension as the main character tries to scramble to keep everything in order, but not before violence and deception begins to infiltrate what should have been a relatively simple scenario, which is only made more complicated once more revelations are made and the involvement of additional players creating an even deeper set of crises for the protagonist. A chaotic blend of humour and horror, Law of Desire represents a step in a new direction for Almodóvar, who had already established himself as a notable artistic visionary, but now is consolidated as an essential voice in cinema at the time, using this film as a starting point for further explorations of society and its peculiarities, all filtered through his distinctly deranged perspective that is both endearing and challenging, a duality that he has consistently celebrated as the core of his artistic curiosities, and how his films manage to manifest with such precision and off-the-wall charm that has allowed them to age exceptionally well over the years.

Thematically, Law of Desire is a film that fits in perfectly with most of the director’s works from the period. It functions as primarily a glimpse into the daily lives of a group of eccentric characters in his native Madrid. This city has become something of a character in the majority of his films, as they navigate the confusing and enthralling world that is the 1980s, a time when every major city was undergoing something of a social and cultural revolution, which Almodóvar intended to capture in as much detail as possible. He has always been fascinated by stories of deviants and divas, and this film contains them in spades, being a well-crafted dark comedy that is driven by a sense of incredible chaos that is somehow both unwieldy and masterfully controlled. The fundamental premise is extraordinarily simple – a love triangle forms between an acclaimed artist, his former muse and a mysterious young man whose volatile nature makes him an unexpected threat to every player in this story, especially when he possesses a lust that will drive him to extreme measures. Desire is a recurring theme in the majority of Almodóvar’s work – there is, in fact, an argument to be made that it’s the one common thread that connects absolutely every one of his films in some way or another – and his fascination with exploring the lengths to which seemingly ordinary people will go to satisfy these carnal cravings (whether its for sex, power or recognition, a fascinating trio of concepts that is once again prevalent in all of the director’s films), which makes this such a captivating work. It’s one of his most raw films as far as sexuality itself goes – unlike some of his previous works, which viewed a sexual desire and lust as something that veers towards the comical in most instances, Law of Desire is far more serious – it does play into the humour in some cases (such as the opening scene, a play-by-play exploration of the direction of an erotic scene) – but it views lust as something innate and sacrosanct, a ferocious oscillation between the visceral and the spiritual that hints at our innermost animalism, and how these desires can often manifest in darker, more insidious ways, and the ways in which those who possess some sense of self-awareness evade these awkward and potentially dangerous scenarios.

Law of Desire does contain some of Almodóvar’s most nebulous, abstract commentary, particularly since it is heavily rooted in conversations on something as difficult to define as desire and how it manifests, so we find that, much like any of his peers who dabble in challenging subject matter, the director understands that the key to success comes in the specific directorial approach, particularly the ways in which he places these ideas together. As mentioned previously, this film acts as something of a bridge between styles – the works he had made previously were more bawdy and outrageous, whereas the ones he would make in the coming decades were slightly more grounded in reality, but without losing the distinctive traits that have defined so many of his masterworks. What seemingly started as something of an experimental eventually flourishes into a deeply captivating dark comedy that is as well-crafted as it is beautifully written, and despite handling slightly more sombre material, Almodóvar is nonetheless working with a few elements that make for profoundly captivating, enticing viewing. Much like many of his films, Law of Desire is built from the marriage of style and substance, the two cornerstones of the filmmaking process that very few have been able to master with as much precision, and which has become part of his overall artistic identity. One of the many compelling traits of several of his works, particularly those which he made earlier in his career, is that we can never tell exactly where it is going – the story we encounter at the start is more of a guideline than a concrete premise, with the director using very simple plot mechanics to serve as the impetus for an extensive range of offbeat moments, each one is perfectly placed throughout this film, and which gradually and methodically move towards the deeper commentary, which is present from those peculiar opening moments to its thrilling and highly unorthodox climax, with every scene in between being colourful, eccentric and steeped heavily in the peculiarities we have come to expect from a director who is consistently pushing the boundaries of his craft.

Much like many of his films during this decade (and beyond), Law of Desire finds Almodóvar working with a combination of newcomers and frequent collaborators, drawing from a coterie of talented performers, all of whom deliver exceptional work. It’s not unheard of for a film by the director made during this period to have the protagonist be the least interesting character, purely by the role being designed as the straight man to an expansive cast of eccentric supporting players, of which this film has an abundance. Nonetheless, despite not being the most interesting character, Eusebio Poncela is still quite good as Pablo, the conflicted director who stands at a crossroads, having to choose between two men, both of which stir his artistic curiosity and provoke his carnal cravings, but which seemingly are unable to exist in tandem. It’s a simple performance that is purely here to guide the narrative, but it is still very good and has enough nuance to be interesting when it’s required. Following their collaboration on Matador the year prior, where he was given a leading role, Antonio Banderas is the core of Law of Desire, playing this deranged young man who decides that he is going to transform from a mild-mannered everyman into a psychopath solely as a result of having his sexuality questioned, which spurs an existential crisis in him, albeit one that he enjoys, as it shakes up everything he thought to be true about himself and the surrounding world. Banderas is only the fourth most important character for most of the film, yet he commands every scene in which he appears, with Almodóvar highlighting both his immense beauty and extraordinary talents in constructing this complex character. Carmen Maura, who is at the peak of her glamour here, is the emotional heart of the film, playing the protagonist’s transgender sister whose compassion and affection for her brother is one of the most poignant aspects of the film, especially in its outrageous final act, where it’s the one component that grounds the film within a recognizable reality. The cast of Law of Desire is very strong, and without their exceptional work, the film would not have been even marginally as successful, which is often the case with many of the director’s films, all of which are designed as vehicles for their actors, and therefore required strong work from the entire cast.

The consensus around Law of Desire is that it is an essential and unique entry into Almodóvar’s career since while it may not be his most original production, it is the one that not only allowed him to do something more mature and thought-provoking but is widely considered the film that established him as a global auteur, a celebrated talent who defied expectations and produced complex, engaging work. His breakthrough film, Law of Desire carries with it several fascinating components that give us insights into his artistic curiosities and his techniques in exploring them, which he does with fervent dedication and an abundance of detail that makes it clear that this was a labour of love, particularly in how he slightly changes course and develops a film that is earnest and quite poignant, while not losing the spark of ingenuity that defined so much of the narrative. This film does occupy a strange place in the director’s career, since it is both very important in how it was his first foray into more serious filmmaking, but also came at a time when he was still insistent on provocation being his primary modus operandi when crafting these stories, leading to a film that effectively places the two different styles in stark contrast with one another, finding ways to bridge them together so that they resonate and draw the viewer into this delightfully deranged version of reality. Hilariously odd but also very meaningful, Law of Desire is a strong offering from a director who was using his unique skills to tell quite a compelling story, one that is driven by a sincerity that we may not expect based on a cursory glance, but which eventually forms the foundation of quite an engaging, enthralling dark comedy that is as insightful as it is audacious, two qualities that we find define a lot of the director’s greatest works.