For his latest cinematic exploration of the human heart, Almodovar has gone to an unexpected source. Live Flesh is based loosely on a novel of the same title by Ruth Rendell. That Rendell’s work (known for its chill psychological suspense) should pique such interest in this director (known for his depictions of overt emotion and high melodrama) is, on second thought, not altogether surprising. What they share is what makes Rendell much more than just another mystery writer and Almodovar more than the continuing stereotype of feeble-minded critics (“irreverent,” “fiery,” “Latin bad boy,” etc.). What they share is an interest in passion and the questions that passion raises in the human condition: Are we fated to live out our passions or do our passions, determine our fate? And how much choice can we exercise in embracing either view?

The plot of Live Flesh (Carne Tremula) is nifty – equally unafraid of coincidence and sudden twists – like a ’40s film; it has elements of both well-made melodramas like Mildred Pierce and those circular narratives – like The Killers – that seemed to entrap the anti-heroes of noir classics in a hall of mirrors or an unending series of puzzle boxes.

The film focuses on the criss-crossing destinies of a handsome young man named Victor who returns from four years in prison with a plan to free himself from his unrequited love for a woman who has scorned him; the man whom she has married and who has very particular reasons for being jealous; a weak and cynical police officer who abuses his wife who, in turn, turns to young Victor for solace. All of the actors do excellent work, especially Javier Bardem as the discomfitted husband.

It is a roundelay of revenge, lust, adoration, and spiritual redemption – and you experience all of these aspects within the first 15 minutes. Almodovar’s elegant sense of cinematic storytelling has often been eclipsed in appraisals of his work that focus on his surreal sense of tragicomedy and the bizarre. But at this point in his career it should be impossible to overlook his growing mastery of visual narrative, his ability to reach out and grab the viewer at the onset and never let go. Unlike Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown or even the emotionally and intellectually complex Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!, this new film is more straightforwardly a drama; what flashes of Almodovarian humor there are are muted and ironic. One assumes there will be other ventures to come that have us falling in the aisles. What Live Flesh does have, though, is a riveting narrative style, a depth of humanity, and a keen sense of what moviemaking is all about.

Live Flesh is a film about passion made by a filmmaker who is passionate about film.