“I could go around the world until I get dizzy.”

The Spanish comedy Common Wealth (La Comunidad) from director Alex de la Iglesia is for those who like their comedy dark, energetic, full of surprises and packed with peculiar characters. Think Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown meets Shallow Grave with an element of Neighbours thrown in for good measure. It’s brilliant, extremely funny, and also somewhat macabre.

Savvy Madrid Real estate agent Julia (Carmen Maura) has to sell a beautiful, posh apartment. It’s the sort of place that she and her mismatched husband could never afford. She invites him over to whoop it up and suggests that they “savagely desecrate this holy waterbed” little realizing that enjoying material comforts they can never afford is something he’d rather not be exposed to. Julia’s relationship with her bouncer husband captures the essence and pettiness of domestic squabbles that are laced with subtle yet bitter recriminations based on financial disappointments. While romping around, Julia makes the horrible discovery that the apartment upstairs contains the rotting corpse of a reclusive millionaire. When she uncovers the dead man’s secret stash of money, Julia realizes (the hard way) that the apartment building’s tenants consider the money theirs and will stop at nothing to get the money away from her.

Common Wealth contains the sort of wild, frenetic energy that’s reminiscent of Almodovar, and the film’s clever plot twists keep the viewer engaged to the very end. The first half of the film is much stronger (and funnier) than the second half, but it’s a powerfully funny, engaging package. The story explores the voracious nature of human greed, and how seemingly ‘normal’ people revert to their uglier, baser instincts when a large sum of money is at stake. The comedy element here is fresh and just unhinged enough to be absolutely marvelous. Julia is a splendid creation–she’s hard-edged, ambitious, and crafty, and all these characteristics rise to the surface under adversity. One of the best characters is the middle-aged son of one of the tenants who sports a Darth Vader costume to become a Vader Voyeur. When discussing Julia, he suggests “we should take her to the dark side.” If you enjoy this film, I also recommend Crimen Perfecto (aka Crimen Ferpecto). In Spanish with English subtitles.

“Your place is in the home, and even then you can’t cope.”

In the Spanish gothic thriller, The Promise (AKA La Promesa) Gregoria (Carmen Maura) is an unhappy dumpy housewife. Her husband continually berates her for her sterility, and beats her when she gets on his nerves. And she gets on his nerves quite a bit by constantly praying and mumbling under her breath to various saints. While the husband seems to find fault in Gregoria’s functionality (”All you do is clean and pray”), it’s obvious that Gregoria is a deeply troubled woman–at one point, she stands transfixed in the marketplace believing that she’s watching long-dead fish gasping for air. One day, Gregoria’s husband pushes her too far, and she hits the road with a suitcase and heads towards a village she heard about. She changes her name to Celia and gets a job as a nanny to an extremely wealthy couple who have one small, silent child named Daniel. Apparently, nannies don’t stay long with the family, so mother, Dorita (Ana Fernandez) is eager to give the reference-less Celia the job–no questions asked. Husband Leandro (Evaristo Calvo), on the other hand, sniffs a rat, and remains suspicious of Celia.

As time goes on, Leandro’s suspicions are proved correct. Celia/Gregoria becomes increasingly more attached to the boy, and she begins to see him as threatened by his father. It occurs to her that she should “liberate” Dorita as a fellow abused wife. Celia slides into even deeper religious ferocity–visiting a local religious shrine, hallucinating and hearing voices in her head.

The set-up (the loony nanny left in charge of an innocent, defenseless child) is a familiar one, but director Hector Carre handles the material nicely. Right from the beginning of the film, odd things occur, and it’s never quite clear exactly what is real and what is Celia’s superstitious imagination. This is an atmospheric film, and camera shots capitalize on the peculiarity of Celia’s twisted vision. A thread of black humour runs through the story and this serves to alleviate some of the tension. The film’s conclusion is a little odd, but it is great fun to see Carmen Maura in the role of Celia. Maura is excellent at portraying the neurotic woman (Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown), but in The Promise Maura isn’t just neurotic–she’s sinister. In Spanish with English subtitles.