Woman on Top

As a goofy little fantasy, however, this film has loads of charm.

A dish that's pretty easy to swallow, but if it could have borrowed some of Isabella's more potent spices, it might have boasted a more lasting flavor.

This gently satirical farce is atmospheric when dabbling in religion--the chef turns to spiritual magic to defuse her passion for her husband--and moving during her heart-to-hearts with her friend.

Thanks to this relentlessly likable film's playful sexuality and utter lack of pretension it's surprisingly easy to let all of one's objections float away on a fragrant cloud of kitchen sweat, pheromones, and sweet lime zest.

Too flimsily built and baldly unfunny to bolster Cruz's charms, but Almodóvar's blessed Virgin is, as usual, winning and guilelessly seductive.

Consistently fails to deliver the charm it presumes to have.

The mind will be starved for subtlety, wit and substance.

This film was SO disappointing. The only thing it accomplished was to prove that Penelope Cruz is extremely photogenic. I particularly loathe this endless portrayal of men as weak, disempowered, needy and hopeless as were both the Caucasian AND the Latino love interests – the Brazilian was only faking masculine empowerment. He possessed none. “Woman On Top” implies that Cruz is usurping the masculine role and therefore the power associated with it, but does she really need weak men around her to emphasize this? Perhaps to create a made-for-TV storyline. One thing this film may have metaphorically, but quite accidentally, gotten right was that wisdom comes from a balanced (inner) masculine/yang – feminine/yin dynamic which was portrayed by Cruz’ transvestite friend.