Almodóvar & Kitchens: Julieta (2016)

Regional Kitchens as Cinematic Confessionals

I first wrote about this years ago on my blog, but I’ve come back to it because I still can’t resist the kitchens of film director Pedro Almodóvar. I am planning to write more about this even though I might have to watch each film three times to decipher them. Thanks to all of you who have subscribed recently! Xx, Blanca

Almodóvar must have spent much of his life in a kitchen, as he consistently elevates them to a starring role in his films. From the grotesque kitchen in What Have I Done to Deserve This? (1984) to his autobiographical sleek one in Pain and Glory (2019), the variety of kitchens in his work is striking. This is especially significant given that in traditional Spanish homes, kitchens were neither open-plan nor particularly glamorous.

Almodóvar’s first ground-breaking kitchen (and film!) was the one in Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988) which predated Spanish modern kitchens by thirty years at the least - and introduced his work to international audiences.

The fact that so many pivotal scenes unfold in these spaces has always fascinated me. His fixation is well understood: in the iconic Spanish cooking 1980s show Con las Manos en la Masa, Almodóvar once remarked, “En la cocina se pasa mucho tiempo y uno es incapaz de mentir... Ahí uno se sincera,” which translates to, “You spend a lot of time in the kitchen, and there, you’re incapable of lying... It’s where you come clean.”

“You spend a lot of time in the kitchen, and there, you’re incapable of lying... It’s where you come clean” - Pedro Almódovar.

I am a big fan of his use of contrasting colors, bold prints and yes kitsch - all revelations about a character or a plot. If you look closely at his films with an eye out the use of food, you can find both sensuality and repression. One of my favorite examples of the latter is the burnt chicken al ajillo prepared by Gloria (Carmen Maura) What have I done to deserve this? (1984) that seems to channel all the anger of the Franco years repression against women. This is one of my favorite films, impossibly dark and angry with a jail-like kitchen… so let’s turn our attention to the more contemporary and airy kitchens of Julieta (2016), his movie based on a series of short-stories by Alice Munro, in which a mother and daughter’s painful estrangement plays out. In this film, not only do each kitchen reveal aspects of the relationships and phases of Julieta and her beloved daughter Antía’s life but also the kitchens give clues to the world of Spanish food through different regions from Andalusia to Galicia.

There are many kitchens in this movie so let’s look at them in reverse order from last to first.

Julieta’s Minimalist Kitchen - Total Estrangement (Madrid)

Apart from some splash of red on the wall, the kitchen is not a cook’s one, nor is it the one of a gourmand. Some planetary magnets on the fridge are the only concession to playfulness. The giant clock overpowers the room with the incessant passage of time. Wine features prominently but there are no spices or ingredients on display. You can assume she eats out a lot (she lives in either Barrio Salamanca or Chamberí in Madrid) with only the sustenance of wine and coffee at home. The break-up scene with Lorenzo, the Argentinian masterful actor Dario Grandinetti, occurs in the spartan kitchen, which echoes her empty sad life. This is a heartbreaking scene because he really does not understand why he is being shut out (details about her daughter have been revealed). Although Grandinetti is good in the role of soothing partner, Almodóvar - who only used the actor in this film - missed out on all his comic strengths that can be seen in other movies like Historias Salvajes and Despido Procedente, both Argentinian/ Spanish films. Just imagine Darío in one of Almodóvar’s more comic films. He would be perfect, no?

As a small aside, note how Julieta’s cakes for Antía’s absent birthdays, that end up in the bin, are never home-made. Julieta very likely bought the cakes in Mallorca, the most popular cake shop and cafe in the city. There is a strong preference in Spain for store-bought cakes (so bringing your own will not always be as welcomed!). There is a glossy pink framboise one, a chocolate almond one and a fruit and almond one. An artful and bitter revelation of how little she knows her daughter.

Beatriz’s Kitchen - Schoolgirl Secret Revelations (Madrid)

Julieta’s random encounter with an old school friend of her daughter, Beatriz, triggers a crisis as she learns more details of her daughter’s life.

Beatriz’s family has a beautiful and glamorous vanilla colored big apartment in Madrid. No wonder she ends up working for Vogue! The kitchen is modern and functional and has a uniformed domestic helper (a double cameo of the famous designer Elena Benarroch and her kitchen!). The 90’s in Spain saw a big increase in domestic helpers thanks to Zapatero’s open immigration policy and the uniform was de rigueur for both the upper classes and all aspiring to be. Beatriz’s mom has a tea set that although beautiful it does not really match with the modern aesthetics of the house, perhaps a family heirloom linked to an aristocratic past. Beatriz’s family is not just rich.

Elena Benarroch’s living room

Julieta’s Andalusian Childhood Kitchen - Colorful Happiness with a Twist

The third kitchen is close to my heart as it has a strong Andalusian theme. Julieta’s aging parents live in a small town farm and his kitchen is dazzlingly white with built-in masonry units. Her mother has Alzheimer while her Dad maintains an affair with the maid.

There are lots of colorful vegetables from the orchard, dried pepper ristras and decorative curtains to hide the pots and pans and also rows of summer preserves like tomate frito and pisto presumably made by the maid.

Julieta and Antía’s Everyday Kitchen (Madrid)

In this milder blue and yellow kitchen (less bold than the customary red and blue that the director prefers) we find again the Sargadelos pieces that were in the house in Galicia. One of the only material objects that Julieta seems to have brought back from the Galician kitchen. Once again, it’s a real working kitchen that looks lived in and serves as the setting of increasing friction between the two characters. It is one of the last scenes where we see the mother and daughter together.

Xoan’s Kitchen - Youthful Love and Pain (Galicia)

The kitchen in Xoan’s house is a reflection of Galician family heritage. It’s not a fancy expensive kitchen; rather it feels like an 80’s kitchen with the once popular frosted glass doors. If you look at the tiles, there are shells and fish. The shell is a nod to the symbol of Saint James, patron saint of Spain and Galicia. The fish represents Xoan’s work as a fisherman. They even have a colorful botijo, water jug near the microwave.

Next to the kitchen there are porcelain pieces from Sargadelos, the famous Galician manufacturer. The blue-and-white pieces are immediately recognizable and Almodóvar has featured them in other movies like The Skin I Live In (2011) with Antonio Banderas, another movie that prominently features Galicia but whose plot I found horrifying. I imagine the they are wedding presents from Xoan’s first marriage or family heirlooms like it’s customary are in the region.

This kitchen with the spectacular view of the sea accented with blue tiles and red patterned table cloth is the sweet setting for the romantic but tragic relationship between Julieta and Xoan and where any knickknack or prop could be a code to their intimacies. On the fateful night Xoan goes fishing after an lover’s quarrel, Julieta prepares a tortilla, or omelette, a constant of the Almódovar recipe book.


If you love the Almódovar Kitchen Universe as much as I do writer Mei Chin, one my Spicebags podcast co-host (along with Dee Laffan) and I did a mini podcast about it some years ago.