I CONSIDERED MYSELF LUCKY THAT I did not have to encounter death until I was thirteen years old. A close relative had passed away in what I now consider to be a quick manner. There was no sign or diagnosis of poor health; it was a heart attack and a couple of days later they were gone. The reason I feel I was lucky is because I had friends who had to deal with death at a much younger age than me. One friend’s father died during the fourth grade and another friend’s brother died when we were in the sixth grade. Us being at such an early age, my classmates and I did not have the skills to be as supportive as I learned at an older age. My friend was out of school for one week and upon his return, me along with other classmates rushed up to him when he walked through the doors of our classroom. Some kids asked him how it was to be out of school for the week; other kids felt the need to tell him what things he missed in our social activities as opposed to our educational ones. Of course, many of us expressed our sympathy by quietly saying we were sorry. Our friend took everything in stride, though looking back, I believe they were still in a state of shock. Their brother was only two years younger than us. IT WAS NOT UNTIL I WAS older that I experienced or better said, witnessed a death that was not sudden. The person lingered for months as they slowly wasted away. To this day I vividly see the image of them lying in a hospital bed as the nurse was rubbing an ice chip around their lips before they would accept it into their mouth, allowing it to melt to try and keep them hydrated. It was awful and I stayed as long as I could before departing. Watching them die was the catalyst for me to look at death differently. Keeping a person alive at all cost mentality was no longer a viable option for me. Seeing someone suffering for a long duration with no chance of recovery was inhumane to me. And especially if the person wanted to end their life while they still had some dignity was something in which I could believe. At first, when I broached this topic with family members, they thought I was a monster. Granted they were raised to respect life by helping the ill person maintain their time on the planet, but I knew their minds could change once they experienced what I went through with this person dying in the hospital. This is why I appreciated the story line in this dramatic film festival winning movie by award winning writer and director Pedro Almodovar. AFTER RECONNECTING AFTER A LONG separation, two friends embark on a getaway trip that might allow only one of them to return. With Julianne Moore (May December, Dear Evan Hansen) as Ingrid, Tilda Swinton (The Killer, The End) as Martha, John Turturro (The Batman, Fading Gigolo) as Damian, Alessandro Nivola (Amsterdam, The Brutalist) as the policeman and Juan Diego Botto (The Suicide Squad, On the Fringe) as the photographer; this film had the perfect casting of Julianne and Tilda. They were wonderful in their roles and made it look effortless to the point one thought they had this long-term friendship. There was an even pace in the direction which allowed time for the story to breathe as it was filled with the words from the thoughtful and sensitive script. Though there were a couple of predictable scenes, I enjoyed how the story, augmented with a large colorful palette, made it seem like we were allowed in to witness the intimacies shared by two old friends. For this being Pedro’s first English speaking film, he certainly was able to achieve the nuances and empathy between these two friends. And I certainly respected the decisions that were made in this picture.
3 ¼ stars