Matador

Synopsis: An ex-bullfighter who gets turned on by killing, a lady lawyer with the same fetish and a young man driven insane by his religious upbringing - these are the main characters in this stylish black comedy about dark sides of human nature.
Genre: Drama, Thriller
Director(s): Pedro Almodóvar
Production: Cinevista/World Artists
  6 wins & 6 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.0
Rotten Tomatoes:
89%
NC-17
Year:
1986
110 min
Website
445 Views


We'll speak about the art of killing.

...one has to kill well.

A bad kill disgraces the man

and the bull.

A bullfighter must honour

his name, 'matador'...

and mustn't betray the

bull's courage.

The bullfighter watches the bull

and knows how to lead it.

He knows which horn it will use.

A good thrust is the result of

a great job, and in any great job...

there's a time when the bull asks

to be killed...

expecting his death.

The sword, according to the rules,

must be sunk behind the nape...

in the 'cross', between

the shoulder-blades.

This hole is called the

cleft of the clods.

The sword must be neither flat

nor straight but well directed...

to sink into the heart and lungs.

There are three basic ways

to face the kill.

The first one is to kill

when receiving.

To kill, the arm must be straight...

the sword must prolong the arm...

the hand must be level

with the heart.

On sinking the sword,

make the 'cross'...

for he who does not

is taken by the devil.

Slowly, we move the cape

to the bull's muzzle...

and bring it towards us.

Then, still looking

at the muzzle...

we sink the sword in the 'cross'.

But don't think that's all

because to kill it as it deserves...

not only must we use the sword

but also the heart.

Don't you undress?

- I'm not wearing anything.

You worked well today.

Maestro, we want a bull.

- So do I.

It's not our fault you're lame.

We're throwing a party tonight.

It'll be wild.

Want to come?

- No, not tonight.

The man's dead beat.

Those chicks want a good time.

We should go out one night

and see what we find.

Why? Don't you dare on your own?

- I've never tired to.

You've never been with a chick?

- No, never.

Chicks are just like bulls...

You've got to hem them in,

then it's easy.

Give it to me.

- But why?

I was going to fry it with garlic.

- It's amanita mascaria.

What is it?

- They're poisonous.

How do you know?

Because of the hood and the cap.

Pick them up and throw them out.

They're very dangerous.

I watched you while

I was speaking of killing.

You felt sick.

Clouds make me dizzy.

Could I have a glass

of water for a pill?

Yes, let's go upstairs. But pills won't

make you any less frightened.

Death doesn't scare me,

my own least of all.

Fear is good, at times

it gives you courage.

Were you scared?

- Yes, but fear is part of the game.

You mustn't be afraid of fear.

Your girl? - It's Ava Gardner!

Don't you go to the movies?

No, my family is from the Opus Dei.

I've spent my life praying

and exercising.

I know her.

- Do you?

She's my neighbour.

Do you like her?

- She's very pretty...

but being a model,

she's stuck up.

No, she isn't, not Eva.

- You know her name.

She's my girlfriend.

- That's funny!

Listen, how about a game?

- All right.

You're really successful

with girls, aren't you?

Knowing I was a bullfighter

turns them on.

Why do you want to be a bullfighter?

You're not like the other kids.

Well... I don't know.

I suppose I like danger.

I mean, if you've got to die...

I want to do it in the ring,

it's more exciting.

Don't you think so?

You're too young to think about that.

Age doesn't matter.

At your age, one thinks

about killing... not dying.

Your turn.

To tell the truth, I can't play.

Besides, I told my mother

I'd be home early.

Angel... You don't happen

to like men, do you?

Why do you have to ask me that?

It just came to mind. At your age

a boy has been with a woman.

Always my age! I'm sick of

being taken for a moron!

Just forget it.

- I'll show you I'm no fairy.

But I believe you.

- I'll show you!

What are you doing in the dark?

I don't like you to lock yourself in.

Where are you going?

- For some air.

Open the window.

- I won't be long.

Don't forget that we eat in an hour.

Chicks are like bulls...

You've got to hem them in,

then it's easy.

What's going on?

I'm sorry.

Motherf***er!

Why don't you shower?

Come on, hurry up!

Stop admiring yourself!

The money I spend on stockings!

Oh Lord, bless the chicken soup...

the sole meunire...

and the custard which

we are about to partake.

You're a disaster.

Did anyone see you fall down?

I don't know, I didn't look.

By the way... when will you see

your spiritual director?

I don't know.

It was one of the conditions

of living in this house...

or had you forgotten?

What are you waiting for? You haven't

been to church in two months.

This is not a boarding-house.

There are rules.

I will not subsidize

a life of luxury and dissipation.

If you do not take the right path,

I prefer not to see you.

Loneliness does not scare me

because I'll never be alone.

What is it? Do I bore you?

- No, I was thinking.

About what?

Nothing... About the storm.

The storm! You certainly are stormy!

At times I think you're crazy, like

your father, may he rest in peace.

I think I'm crazy.

You do?

You should take me

to a psychiatrist.

You don't need a psychiatrist,

you need your spiritual director.

You'll go and see him tomorrow.

Now eat.

Eat, I said.

Allow us to experience, Lord,

on receiving the Eucharist...

peace of the spirit and the body,

through Jesus, our Lord.

The Lord be with you.

- And with your spirit.

May the blessing of

the Almighty be upon you.

You may go in peace.

- The Lord be blessed.

Tell him you want to confess.

He'll be pleased.

I'll wait for you at home.

Go on!

Go to the sacristy.

I want to see you go.

Good morning, Father.

Well! At last, you're back!

We've missed you.

Father, I want to confess.

Good, I'm glad to hear that, my son.

Wait for me outside.

What do you want?

To see the inspector.

- What for?

I want to admit to raping a girl.

Some girls have all the luck!

There's the inspector,

holding a picture.

Thank you.

Come in.

Well, what is it?

I came to report a rape.

You were raped?

No, I was the rapist.

Are you sure?

Come in, tell me all about it.

Coming!

It smells good.

- It's paint.

What do you want?

- Police.

I can see that.

- Does Eva Soler live here?

She does. Why?

She was raped last night.

We caught the rapist.

My daughter? I doubt it very much.

She'd have told me.

Better luck next time.

One moment, Madam.

Somebody's coming.

What is it?

- Nothing. Go to your room.

What about her face?

Come here.

I slipped in the mud.

- Remember the storm?

He may do it again

if you protect him.

First of all, he didn't rape me.

And if he tries again,

I'll cut his balls off!

Please come with us.

But look at the state

the house is in!

I'm painting it and

I've got no one to help me.

Please, madam.

I can't, I've got a casting.

We've got a casting

and the house is a mess.

Be quiet!

Don't you scream at me

or you'll be in trouble!

It won't take long.

If you don't mind waiting

while we dress.

You don't want us to go to the

station looking at sight.

The worst isn't getting raped

but having to tell everyone.

Make yourself at home.

I'll close the door.

Please sit down.

- No, we're in a hurry.

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Jesús Ferrero

Jesús Ferrero is a Spanish writer born in 1952 in the Spanish province of Zamora. After completing his secondary education he studied literature in Zaragoza for a while and then moved to Paris to study ancient Greek history at the École des hautes études en sciences sociales. Jesús Ferrero, like Javier Marías or Antonio Muñoz Molina, is a writer of that new Spanish prose which developed after La Movida Madrileña (Madriliene Movement), one of the early post-modern currents. He has written numerous novels, poetry collections, short stories, essays and screenplays. He is, among other things, co-author of Pedro Almodóvar's film Matador. He is one of a group of well-known Spanish novelists, which includes Julio Llamazares, Javier Cervas, and Andrés Trapiello, who have published fiction in the vein of "historical memory", focusing on the Spanish Civil War and the Francoist State.Ferrero's debut, Chinese-set novel 'Belver Yin' (1981) was one of the most successful and critically acclaimed in post-Franco Spanish literature, and helped him to establish himself as one of the major writers of La Movida years. With novels set in Tibet ('Opium', 1986), Barcelona ('Lady Pepa', 1988) or Berlin ('Débora Blenn', 1988), Ferrero continued during the eighties a literary exploration characterized by eclectic intertextuality. Fererro’s book 'El Efecto Doppler' (1990), follows a precise choreography which shows the protagonist, Darío, caught up in a complex tale. During an evening meal in Paris the young Rosaura blows her brains out in front of the diners: "Suddenly she looked at me and took a pistol from her bag. Without stopping her whistling she put the weapon to her temple." Every gesture, every look follows a kind of message, and Darío, Rosaura’s cousin, takes it upon himself to create a meaningful entity from the seemingly unconnected clues. In calm, very precise language and in a very detailed, cleverly devised structure Ferrero tells in his novel a gripping love story and at the same time makes us consider the limits of our perception. Precise, too, is that view which the hero has in the novel 'El diablo en los ojos' (1998). Since young Leo Salgado has been focussing his camera lens on his own family, he senses the great influence of this instrument which is able to record everyday trivialities and their most intimate facets. The camera here is the up-and-coming creative genius which captures, with almost cruel clarity, the disintegration of the family. The action of Jesús Ferrero’s novel, 'Juanelo o el hombre nuevo' (2000), is set in Toledo in the 16th century. The protagonist in this fantasy-tale, a good-looking youth, gradually comes to discover the terrible history of his origin as he becomes more and more involved in events in Toledo. It becomes clear that he is an artificially created human being, a golem, a new kind of human being. The novel is a good example which again makes clear Ferrero’s basic themes: "Destruction begins with the first tears in the cradle and ends when, in our parchment-like hands, time dies." Jesús Ferrero’s writing shows a rebirth of the old myths and also tells of the banal, sometimes absurd everyday stories. It reflects the utopias of the twentieth century like those of 'Metropolis'. Ferrero’s style has been seen as close to that of Cervantes or Kafka. The author loves adopting classical narrative patterns while also modernizing and using them aesthetically with new stylistic features. Since 1995 he has been living in Madrid where he teaches literature. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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