Most movies that tell stories about spousal abuse prefer to go the thriller route: woman in danger, leaving her violent husband to search for a new life, finding that life under a new identity, and the predictable element that he comes back to find her and will not stop until she is firmly planted within the cage that she's just escaped. Such is the opening scene of THE DOY MIS OJOS (TAKE MY EYES) that presents an act of desperation: a young woman, Pilar, coming home to in a moments epiphany wake her sleeping son, grab what she can, run out into the night not sure where she is going at first, and winding up at her sister Ana's house. In an unforgettable exchange, Ana asks her, "What's the matter?" Breaking down in a mess of tears, Pilar babbles: "I just realized I'm in my slippers!"
Thus, begins the movie proper. All seems to be heading towards Pilar beginning a new life without Antonio -- and it's about time. Ana heads to Pilar's apartment to see it's been practically ripped to shreds. Antonio finally makes his appearance, and indicates he's not going to go away so easily. This proves to be true, since he insinuates himself into Pilar's life outside of Ana's house and tells her he will change. However, Pilar decides not to come back... and here is when the real Antonio emerges, a mass of sound and fury. Ana tries to help Pilar out but Pilar seems to be harboring feelings for Antonio, and an ugly exchange between the sisters has Ana disclosing in front of their mother the real reason of Pilar's wounds.
It seems Pilar will find success in picking up the pieces of her life. She's found work in a museum. It's possible she will even find a place to live; she certainly has the support of Ana. However, this isn't the typical wife-on-the-run drama: female director Icíar Bolláin has gone the other way around, bringing unto light an ugly reality that she first explored in AMORES QUE MATAN, but taking it a step further. There are women so blinded by their co-dependency that they would rather stay in the hellish security of their home because they believe -- or want to believe -- that the abuse will stop, that the husband will change, that all will be as before when they were in love. Such is the case with Pilar, who is allowing Antonio to worm his way ever so closer into her life by accepting gifts where he lets her know he's going into therapy to cure his problem.
At this point, the movie's sympathy -- if it can be called that -- subtly and uncomfortably shifts to Antonio as his own pathology gets explored. His sessions at a place where abusive husbands talk about why they hit their wives yields a sense of horror within himself: he can't believe the type of stories he is privy to, but he's as ugly as they are. At the same time, Pilar begins to evolve as a person, even when she makes the ultimate bad decision and moves back with Antonio, much to Ana's horror. On her own and estranged from Ana, Pilar begins an exploration of her own self through art. The paintings Bolláin has chosen all depict women in a state of peril as a menacing male looms near. Antonio can't relate to art in any way, and a promotion she receives is the crux that unleashes his rage in an uncontrollable flood.
That a woman could delve into the female psyche and its dependency on criminally abusive males is remarkable. Even a quiet scene in which Antonio and Pilar engage in a "give and take" erotic exchange that culminates in Pilar telling Antonio to "take her eyes" is fraught with a sense of believable masochism: it's as if under the character of Pilar, Bolláin were representing all women who have let a dominating male take control and render their will nil. She only gives one hint that could define as to why Pilar is so willing to be burned by Antonio, and when she arrives there, she is horrified... and so are we. Because abuse happens in cycles of repetition and moves from generation to generation.
TAKE MY EYES is a powerful film that further denounces what AMORES QUE MATAN exposed. It won multiple Goyas in 2004 and justifiably so; films that tackle this ugly part of society in a realistic way should be seen. Both Luis Tosar and Laia Marull are fantastic in bringing forth a marriage that plays a dangerous game of sadomasochism. As a side note, it seems that this is an Almodovar reunion of sorts -- Kiti Manver, Rosa Maria Sardá, and Candela Peña all have strong, supporting parts. Only that the (deadpan serious) desperation of one woman creates a sisterhood in others who are willing to intervene.
Thus, begins the movie proper. All seems to be heading towards Pilar beginning a new life without Antonio -- and it's about time. Ana heads to Pilar's apartment to see it's been practically ripped to shreds. Antonio finally makes his appearance, and indicates he's not going to go away so easily. This proves to be true, since he insinuates himself into Pilar's life outside of Ana's house and tells her he will change. However, Pilar decides not to come back... and here is when the real Antonio emerges, a mass of sound and fury. Ana tries to help Pilar out but Pilar seems to be harboring feelings for Antonio, and an ugly exchange between the sisters has Ana disclosing in front of their mother the real reason of Pilar's wounds.
It seems Pilar will find success in picking up the pieces of her life. She's found work in a museum. It's possible she will even find a place to live; she certainly has the support of Ana. However, this isn't the typical wife-on-the-run drama: female director Icíar Bolláin has gone the other way around, bringing unto light an ugly reality that she first explored in AMORES QUE MATAN, but taking it a step further. There are women so blinded by their co-dependency that they would rather stay in the hellish security of their home because they believe -- or want to believe -- that the abuse will stop, that the husband will change, that all will be as before when they were in love. Such is the case with Pilar, who is allowing Antonio to worm his way ever so closer into her life by accepting gifts where he lets her know he's going into therapy to cure his problem.
At this point, the movie's sympathy -- if it can be called that -- subtly and uncomfortably shifts to Antonio as his own pathology gets explored. His sessions at a place where abusive husbands talk about why they hit their wives yields a sense of horror within himself: he can't believe the type of stories he is privy to, but he's as ugly as they are. At the same time, Pilar begins to evolve as a person, even when she makes the ultimate bad decision and moves back with Antonio, much to Ana's horror. On her own and estranged from Ana, Pilar begins an exploration of her own self through art. The paintings Bolláin has chosen all depict women in a state of peril as a menacing male looms near. Antonio can't relate to art in any way, and a promotion she receives is the crux that unleashes his rage in an uncontrollable flood.
That a woman could delve into the female psyche and its dependency on criminally abusive males is remarkable. Even a quiet scene in which Antonio and Pilar engage in a "give and take" erotic exchange that culminates in Pilar telling Antonio to "take her eyes" is fraught with a sense of believable masochism: it's as if under the character of Pilar, Bolláin were representing all women who have let a dominating male take control and render their will nil. She only gives one hint that could define as to why Pilar is so willing to be burned by Antonio, and when she arrives there, she is horrified... and so are we. Because abuse happens in cycles of repetition and moves from generation to generation.
TAKE MY EYES is a powerful film that further denounces what AMORES QUE MATAN exposed. It won multiple Goyas in 2004 and justifiably so; films that tackle this ugly part of society in a realistic way should be seen. Both Luis Tosar and Laia Marull are fantastic in bringing forth a marriage that plays a dangerous game of sadomasochism. As a side note, it seems that this is an Almodovar reunion of sorts -- Kiti Manver, Rosa Maria Sardá, and Candela Peña all have strong, supporting parts. Only that the (deadpan serious) desperation of one woman creates a sisterhood in others who are willing to intervene.