(**1/2) 

Maybe the book What Are You Going Through, by Sigrid Nunez, was deeper. But this film adaptation is surprisingly shallow and stiff. Considering the subject matter, something has been lost in translation.  

Hard to remember a Pedro Almodóvar (Parallel Mothers) movie that wasn’t perfectly produced. So, it’s no wonder that this end-of-life saga includes a first-rate production team: Eduard Grau’s (Passing) cinematography is professional. Alberto Iglesias’ (Parallel Mothers) weird music—melodies something like you might hear on an Alfred Hitchcock episode—is unique. Production designer Inbal Weinberg’s (Beasts of No Nation) creates New York apartments and warmer upstate New York dwellings with a modern feel. Bina Daigeler’s (Tár) distinctive costumes are fashionable. Art director Gabriel Liste’s (Asteroid City) sense of colors is fine. Tech elements blend perfectly—for a different kind of film. Not this one. 

What’s missing in this pas de deux about death is a rawness and authenticity that heightens the tense and peaked emotions involved in dying and passing away. There is something sterile about this presentation. It’s too pristine. Something standoffish about the way the two lead actors handle this solemn journey. Everything seems detached. Not desperate or compelling. The sets, clothes and décor overpower what should be a simple, soul-searching parable.

Ingrid (Oscar winner Julianne Moore), a bestselling author, is signing her latest tome for fans in a book store when someone clues her in that their mutual friend is facing a terminal illness. That solemn news makes the novelist reach out to her old pal Martha (Tilda Swinton), an ex-war correspondent. When they reconnect, Martha is more like a college professor on a journey than someone who’s tormented by their impending death. In the most detached manner, the journalist asks the author to accompany her to an upstate NY home. There she intends to control her death. “Cancer can’t get me if I get me first,” she reckons. Ingrid will be in the room next door, or down the hall. She will be the last one to see her. 

AnyonAnyone who’s experienced the looming death of a terminally ill loved one can relate. Those who’ve contemplated controlling the last phase of their life, would be intrigued by Martha’s decisions. They’ find it either courageous or unethical. Once that setup has been established and the characters are in place, all who witness know Martha’s fate. Only she knows when. The role of the two leads and script is to pull viewers into this swan song. Not on a philosophical basis, but on an emotional one. Could be the direction. Could be the actresses are holding back. What ‘s on should bring a flood of tears to your eyes. But it doesn’t. It’s too didactic. This kind of inaccessible filmmaking keeps you at a distance. 

Swinton is so emotionally detached it’s hard to warm up to her dilemma and choices. Feels like she was miscast. Moore as Ingrid does exhibit a timidity, but it’s not enough. She needs to act more mortified about the whole situation but determined to help her friend even against her better judgement.  That would be a better character arc then the tiny one on view. John Turturro, as a love interest, also seems quite mild mannered about an event that could go awry. The only real tension in the movie occurs when Ingrid has to explain who, what and where to an increasingly suspicious police detective (Alessandro Nivola, American Hustle). Their head-to-head conflict is more emotionally charged than any other scene in the movie. That’s not a good sign.

The heavy subject matter, secluded location and two-women setup are reminiscent of Ingmar Bergman movies, like Persona. In that 1966 drama, a nurse (Bibi Anderson) is in charge of a patient (Liv Ullman). They’re isolated and their personalities meld in the eeriest way. That’s what’s missing here. A cross breeding of ideas and philosophies that leaves each character in a different place than they began. Something that would haunt viewers and make them confront their personal views on death and dying. 

In Martha’s final moments she’s dressed in a bright canary yellow outfit. It’s the kind of modernist, over-the-top style that is a signature of Almodóvar movies. However here, it’s just another cartoonish moment that takes you out of the gravity of the situation. She’s passed on. Either a severe feeling of grief or relief, depending on points of view, should envelope you. Instead, this scene just merits a smirk. An awkward one. 

This is Pedro Almodóvar’s first English-language film. It feels like a disconnect. Like style over emotions was the plan. That’s a miscalculation.   

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcp__Vek4gQ 
For more information about the New York Film Festival go to https://www.filmlinc.org/nyff2024/guide/. 
Visit Film Critic Dwight Brown at DwightBrownInk.com.