Strange Way Of Life review: Pedro Almodóvar's brief, queer Western

Throughout his almost four-decade career, Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodóvar has created a wholly original cinematic world that is a playpen for him and for those who appreciate his work. It comes with lots of colors (particularly red), heightened emotions, and characters who are either verbose or silent but always manage to express their desires in loud emotional ways. In Strange Way Of Life, Almodóvar brings his trademark aesthetic to the most American of movie genres, the Western. The fact that it’s 31 minutes and produced by the fashion house Saint Laurent complicates the matter. Almodóvar acolytes might have to wait for his definitive take on the Western.

The plot is simple enough. A cowboy and expert gunslinger named Silva (Pedro Pascal) rides across the desert to meet a cowboy-turned-sheriff named Jake (Ethan Hawke) after decades of estrangement. However, Silva has ulterior motives beyond rekindling the long-extinguished flame of a desirous relationship. Silva’s son may have committed a murder and he’s not above seducing his old lover to save his son.

The first few scenes with Hawke and Pascal crackle with lingering, smoldering glances, and pops of color and detail in their costumes, but somehow the heat between them never ignites. A few shots work as standalone tableaus or sly jokes. A close-up of both faces in repose sliding closer for a kiss as their gray beards glisten shows more lust than the dialogue or the lackadaisical delivery of the actors. A pan to a posterior is a funny acknowledgment of the top/bottom binary in gay male relationships. In these fleeting moments Almodóvar’s sense of style and comedy jell, delivering moments for his fans to cherish.

Separately, Hawke and Pascal are credible as cowboys. Hawke growls out his lines, showing how years and tobacco may have affected Jake. Pascal, in the more typical Almodóvar role of a man guided by his emotions, brings both warmth and a sense of adventure. He’s believable as someone who has clashing loyalties but doesn’t realize it.

Almodóvar’s clever eye for casting is evident in his choice of Jose Condessa as the younger Silva and Jason Fernandez as the younger Jake. Both actors bear such an uncanny resemblance to their older co-stars that it’s immediately apparent who’s playing who in a flashback scene. That scene also erupts in color and the playful use of Western mainstays; guns, red wine in barrels, cowboys in tight trousers. It makes one wish some of that playfulness carried through into the rest of the film.

Perhaps the reticence of Western heroes—who need to stick to whatever rules they come up with—clashes with Almodóvar’s sense of story. His characters never live by rules and they are more eccentric, more emotionally extreme in the best sense than the trope of the mythic gunslinger. That dichotomy does not work in favor of a 31-minute movie. And though criticizing a short film for its compact story seems like a fool’s errand, the topic and the filmmaker needed a bigger canvas to breathe. Additionally, being produced by a noted fashion house might have constrained Almodóvar even more than Western film tropes. One doesn’t know how much Saint Laurent was involved or how much of their wares he was required to show. That it doesn’t feel intrusive is a testament to how well Almodóvar uses costumes, props, and sets to tell his stories.

Strange Way Of Life plays like a throwaway chapter in this prolific auteur’s oeuvre. Surprisingly so, because Almodóvar is usually meticulous and attentive to the smallest details. He’s also famous for months of preparation and rehearsal with actors. While there are a few joys to be had here, none of that, which distinguishes his films, is evident here.

Strange Way Of Life opens in theaters on October 6