The director Pedro Almodóvar has never been shy about mining his life for his movies. His stories often center on writers and directors, and in “Pain and Glory,” the capstone to a thematic trilogy that also includes “Law of Desire” and “Bad Education,” the silver-bearded protagonist resides in a home that was modeled after Almodóvar’s own.
Even so, it strikes me as imprecise to affiliate Almodóvar with autofiction. Forget the term’s trendiness and baggage — the Spanish master’s favored mode is melodrama. His luscious tales exist on an elevated plane, as foreign to realism as flamenco is to a morning commute. Could Almodóvar’s worlds, overflowing with vivid color, poetic meaning and theatrical flair, really be understood as dispatches from his life?
This paradox both animates and complicates “Bitter Christmas,” a film with layered story lines. In one, Elsa (Bárbara Lennie) is a commercial director who dates a doting hunk, Bonifacio (Patrick Criado), and suffers migraines from anxiety. A parallel plot follows Raúl (Leonardo Sbaraglia), an acclaimed filmmaker who is writing Elsa’s story in real time. Her scenes tumble out as Raúl types them into his screenplay, succumbing to the whims of his inspiration.
Raúl begins by excavating his own experiences. Elsa’s angst is drawn from his history, and Bonifacio — a firefighter, stripper and consummate sweetie — is based on Raúl’s boyfriend, Santi (Quim Gutiérrez). But after coming up short on drama, Raúl turns to the affairs of his longtime assistant, Mónica (Aitana Sánchez-Gijón). A loyal employee for decades, Mónica reveals that she’s leaving the job to help a friend in distress — a true story of woe that Raúl poaches for Elsa.
This alchemy yields detours and distortions that pulse with the passion and finesse of classic Almodóvar works, and for a while, the structure coheres. Each dazzling new turn is a moment to savor, like the flashback to Elsa meeting Bonifacio at work. She ogles him during a striptease, and his beauty and charisma mesmerize her. In another musical interlude, Elsa visits her best friend, Patricia (Victoria Luengo), and the pair — dressed in red and green in a room flecked with the same Christmas palette — listen to Chavela Vargas.
The singing sparks an epiphany for Patricia, and the two friends decamp to a volcanic island for an impromptu vacation. Here, Raúl struggles with Elsa’s next moves. He borrows more from Mónica, but his writer’s block leaves the women in an emotional lurch. Raúl’s script is unfinished and not quite gelling, which means that the movie we’re watching isn’t either.
“Bitter Christmas” is about the process of writing from life, its pleasure and its price. That cost proves high for Raúl, and also for Almodóvar. Because the movie belongs to Raúl and not Elsa, it leaves the viewer feeling shortchanged. “You’re more honest in your scripts than in your life,” Mónica spits at her former boss after learning that he appropriated her plight for his work. She may be right, but as Elsa’s story falters and fades away, we’re left grasping for more.
Bitter Christmas Rated R for a visit to the strip club. In Spanish and English, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 51 minutes. In theaters.
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