Matador is an early Almodovar work that explores the relationship between sex and violence through the medium of bullfighting. It follows a love quadrangle between a retired matador, his repressed student, the matador's lover, and the student's lawyer, as a series of murders takes place in Madrid. Dark comedy ensues in the midst of murder investigations and extremely loud eighties fashions.The performances make this decidedly odd film work. Assumpta Serna is great as the lawyer, while Antonio Banderas makes an early appearance as her client. Carmen Maura also has a small role, even though her character is somewhat lacking in development. The characters remain convincing even as the plot spins into the out right bizarre.Some viewers might complain that the film's explicit sex and violence make it little different from an exploitation film, and indeed it opens with a character masturbating to a slasher movie. Furthermore, its commentary on sex and violence at times seems pretentious. However, the film is far more creative and well made than any exploitation film, and is well worth your time.

Essentially seen by many as a warped sex fantasy that uses the codes and conventions of the detective thriller to disguise a darker, more psychological film about the wayward perversions and sinister desires of a seemingly affluent area of contemporary Madrid; Matador (1986) can also be seen as a not-so-subtle comment on the nature of modern-day relationships, aspirations and obsessions in a meta-textual form that makes continual use of its titular, bullfighting motif. Although it does have some slight thematic problems, particularly in terms of the overall tone of the film and eventual motivation of the characters, it is, nonetheless, one of Almodóvar's most interesting and perplexing films of this particular period; featuring a refinement of many of his earliest interests and characteristics from films like Dark Habits (1983) and What Have I Done to Deserve This? (1984), as well as being the film that signalled the move into the second phase of his career.As the implications of the title would suggest, the film's narrative is bolstered by numerous references, both spoken and visual, to the obvious role-play and iconography of the bullfight. It is also a film about violence, and the sexuality of violence; an uncomfortable idea that is reinforced by the film's provocative opening sequence, in which we find the central matador of the title, Diego Montes, masturbating to violent scenes of exploitation cinema. The scene establishes the nature of the matador, both as a character and as a social phenomenon, as well as introducing the link between sex and death that will come to form an important thematic strand to the narrative. As the story progresses, the mechanisms of the drama conspire to throw together two separate characters that come to complement the unspoken desires and murderous lust that they seemingly share with one another, with the eventual courtship and inevitable seduction presented by the director as a surrogate bullfight in its self.Where the film falls apart slightly is in the presentation of the character played by Antonio Banderas, a hyper-sensitive, implied homosexual who idolises the matador to the extent that he actually attempts to rape his young, fashion-model girlfriend (an act that eventually leads him to confess to a string of serial killings as a result of his mother's enforced, catholic guilt). It is a complex character, impeccably performed by the young Banderas, but his appearance ultimately sends the film off on a tangent that detracts from the central crux of the drama. Though the inclusion of this subplot does allow Almodóvar the chance to make a satirical comment on the nature of everything from fashion, to religion, sexuality, etc, these themes often feel like they've been handpicked from a completely different film, not always complimenting the central story, and too often leading it in directions that in the end feel unfinished or slightly unformed. Many of these loose ends can be glossed over, while some (the last minute implication of "second sight" as suggested by a solar eclipse) really seem to come out of leftfield.Nevertheless, these are minor criticisms that don't necessarily destroy the ultimate intentions of the film - which really only become clear in the final scene - or the fantastic direction of Almodóvar and the performances of his cast. Although Matador certainly has its flaws (not to mention its detractors), it is, in my opinion, a fine little film and one of Almodóvar's most original and audacious creations. The performances are all incredibly committed, including the central pairing of Assumpta Serna and the late Nacho Martínez, as well the fine support from Banderas, the gorgeous Eva Cobo and Almodóvar regulars Carman Maura and Eusebio Poncela; whilst the central idea behind the script and the bold stokes of the director's intuitive grasp of the various film-making processes further refines and develops a number of themes that have come to be at the forefront of Almodóvar's career for the last twenty-five years.

I am not sure what to expect when the opening scene is a man masturbating to torture porn, a term that was probably not even invented in 1988.From there we go to alternating clips of Antonio Banderas asking the ex-bullfighter Nacho Martínez about women and he compares getting a woman to bullfighting, while we watch someone do exactly that. We are no, of course, prepared for the necrophilia twist in that encounter.We find our boy, Antonio, and he is a boy in this film, in a strict Catholic household. I would have to guess that his mother was Opus Dei. He attempts to rape his neighbor and confesses to four murders which we know he did not do. This is just Almodóvar's take on religion and repression. He revisits that subjects again in the film, so it must me a theme for him.But, then the story shifts to Nacho and Assumpta Serna, with Eva Cobo in a minor role. This is where the story gets interesting with the police trying to solve the four murders and the real murderers trying to lay it on Antonio.It gets bizarre at the end with Antonio seeing the killers in his mind and leading the police to them. But, they arrive too late as the climax of sex and death occurs simultaneous with an eclipse. How weird is that?

Of the dozen-or-so Almodovar films I've seen, Matador is the least satisfying and most disturbing. "Disturbing," not as in provocative, but in revealing the director's infantile obsession with Eros and Thanatos--eroticism and death. It's treated merely as something to drag the viewer through, like Mike Leigh or Peter Greenaway would do...or Leos Carax at his most insouciant. Gratuitousness masquerading as something substantive. Stay away, unless you want to ponder the alchemical potentiality of mixing blood and semen. Ugh! Now, that is not to say that there aren't some good performances. But, I'll take Bunuel or Emil Jannings honestly examining how the 'release' and 'rupture in consciousness' in sexual arousal/fulfillment and violent passion are similar and how the confuse us--and the camera. Try Antonioni's "Desert Rose" or Val Lewton.