A film by Almodovar- sends a tingle down my spine every time. The capitalized print which opens the Spanish auteur's latest feature instantly induces memories of salacious nuns, gentle necrophiliacs, wisecracking transsexualsand I haven't even got as far as the infant-terrible's critically reviled early work. And after a beautiful opening montage, with the camera roving across a wind-swept graveyard animated by a hoard of widows feverishly scrubbing tombstones, I thought Pedro had me again under his wicked spell.<br /><br />Yet once my nostalgia had subsided, there was very little to fill its place. For a director who revels in bringing humanity to assassins and rapists, he does a very poor job at finding any emotional depth or endearing quality in his women. Penelope Cruz is Raimunda, a headstrong housewife whose life is complicated by her daughter's accidental killing of her abusive husband. Thankfully she lives in Almodovar's Spain where your friends will quite happily help to dispose of a corpse for the offer of a round of cocktails. Add to the melting-pot the ghost of Raimunda's mother and a host of other eccentrically warm-hearted matriarchs. "Volver" means literally to return, and Pedro does appear to be recycling old material. The sub-plot of incest feels as though it were tacked-on as the obligatory "taboo". Instead of commenting on or subverting the issue, as with his treatment of paedophilia in Bad Education, it feels forced and unconvincing amid the film's chick-flick sentimentality. I suggest Almodovar call his next film Salir (to move on).