But Almodovar has only just begun. Following her son's heart, she rescued her former transgender friend Aguda, took care of Mother Rosa, who was pregnant with Manila's ex-husband's child and contracted AIDS, and worked as an assistant to the actor Hama, who indirectly caused her son's car accident, and finally met her. She forgives her ex-husband, who has changed sex but is dying of weakness, and shows him pictures of her son. She hugs each of them like a mother hugs her child, motherly love more broadly.
Sister Rosa has no resentment either, her quiet birth of a small life is hard not to be reminiscent of Raphael's Madonna.
Aguda has no resentment either. She is proud of her female identity, and when needed, she naturally exudes the kind and sincere charm that belongs to women.
Hama has no resentment either. That drug addict Nina, Hama silently takes everything for her.
In that scene, four women chatted together, each with pain, but together they were able to laugh. The movie is actually full of darkness and ugliness, but in their magnetic field they reveal a sad beauty. You have to admire the women of Almodóvar, who accommodate all suffering and misfortune like water gently covers everything. It is inaccurate to use forbearance to describe them (many women shown in movies are forbearance), forbearance contains confrontation, and they are resolving, internalized into their own strength (resolver! Resolver!)
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