Parallel Mothers movie review (2021)

Cruz plays Janis, an accomplished photographer living in Madrid. On the verge of turning 40, she becomes pregnant from a fling she has with Arturo (Israel Elejalde), a handsome and charming forensic archaeologist. She happens to give birth on the same day as another single mom, 17-year-old Ana (the striking Milena Smit), her roommate at the hospital. From those earliest, kindhearted conversations, the two women find themselves connecting in myriad, unexpected ways during one of the most vulnerable and thrilling times in their lives. They share all the elation and exhaustion and more. To elaborate further spoil the many twists and turns Almodóvar takes in “Parallel Mothers,” but suffice it to say, they are doozies.

But while the bones of his script may seem soapy, and the propulsive, string-heavy score from his frequent composer, the brilliant Alberto Iglesias, even calls to mind a horror film at times, “Parallel Mothers” never spins wildly into camp. Cruz is radiant and earthy, sexy and funny as Janis, and because she’s so gifted and so entirely on Almodovar’s wavelength, she maintains an emotional connection with the audience through all of her character’s extreme highs and lows. Smit, meanwhile, shines in an understated way in a more low-key role and enjoys a sparky connection with Cruz on several levels. Ana isn’t nearly as enthusiastic about becoming a mother as Janis is, but her maternal instincts evolve in ways that are warm and heart-wrenching. “It’ll all work out,” Janis tells Ana early and often, and that bright optimism extends to every element of her life, including her wardrobe and décor. The vibrant shade of red we see everywhere—from her cardigan and camera bag to her stroller and Baby Bjorn—is such an Almodovar trademark, they should name a nail polish after him. (Several of the director’s longtime collaborators return to give a “Parallel Mothers” its chic and dramatic look, including production designer Antxón Gómez and cinematographer José Luis Alcaine.)

But it wouldn’t be an Almodóvar film if one of his favorite players, Rossy de Palma (“Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown,” “Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!”), didn’t show up. Here, she plays Janis’ best friend, Elena, swooping into her hospital room in a Technicolor-plaid trench coat, generously offering no-nonsense support and advice. On the other end of the spectrum is Ana’s mother, Teresa (Aitana Sánchez-Gijón), a narcissistic actress who only truly lights up when she’s talking about how well she did in an audition (although her evolution is one of the film’s many revelations).

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