Kika (Pedro Almodóvar, 1993)

Almodóvar's style has settled down in more recent years, and while the results can still be audacious or mischievous forced marriages of clashing elements, he no longer tries to cram in every eclectic idea possible as if he were living out his last day. Kika is still very much of that mindset, though. It revolves a bubble-headed cosmetologist, a sinister novelist, a murder-exploitation TV show presenter and a priapic ex-porn star who's broken out of prison, with a supporting cast each endowed with personalised pecularities. Almodóvar's script methodology largely consists of clattering them like pebbles against each other and recording the resulting sparks.
You can be exasperated by such a blase disregard for the conventions of cinematic construction or disinterest in having a moral centre or relish the resultant jumble for the pearls of repartee or set-piece it throws up, and what pearls they are sometimes. For example, when one woman tells another about having submitted to incest with her sub-normal brother to preserve the neighbours from his carnal urges. The irresistible humour springs from Almodóvar's matter-of-fact handling of such notions. He may try too hard to discomfit in these early pieces, like a naughty schoolboy, and sometimes the plot is just an afterthought, which is pretty much the case here too, but it is fun.

6/10