Strange Way of Life (2023)
July 2, 2025
Strange Way of Life (2023): Pedro Almodóvar’s Western of Longing and Unspoken Fire
In Strange Way of Life, director Pedro Almodóvar ventures into the American Western, not to mimic its tropes, but to subvert and reimagine them with his signature emotional depth and queer sensibility. This 31-minute short film, both aching and intimate, tells a story less about gunfights and more about what lingers long after the dust settles: love, regret, and the weight of memory.
The film reunites Silva (Pedro Pascal), a rugged rancher, with Jake (Ethan Hawke), a town sheriff. Twenty-five years have passed since the two rode side-by-side as young gunslingers — and lovers. Silva’s journey across the desert to see Jake is at first cloaked in nostalgia, the quiet gestures and unspoken glances suggesting an unresolved tenderness. But what begins as a tender reunion quickly shifts into emotional confrontation, as old wounds resurface and the roles they now play — lawman and outlaw, protector and threat — clash with the feelings they buried decades ago.
Almodóvar frames their reunion with poetic restraint. The sparse dialogue is charged with meaning; each word feels carefully chosen, each silence heavier than any shootout. The film’s rich visual style, full of sun-bleached plains and shadowed interiors, pays homage to classic Westerns while infusing them with vulnerability and longing rarely allowed in the genre.
Strange Way of Life echoes Brokeback Mountain — a comparison Almodóvar himself invites — yet where that film was an epic tragedy, this is a contemplative elegy. It reverses expectations: the sheriff is not just a symbol of justice, but of denial; the cowboy is not just a drifter, but a man chasing the embers of something lost.
What makes this film remarkable is how much it conveys in such a short span. Beneath its surface lies a meditation on masculinity, repression, and the human need for connection—even when love must remain unspoken. Pedro Pascal and Ethan Hawke deliver quietly devastating performances, making every shared look feel like a confession.
In the end, Strange Way of Life is not about action, but aftermath. It’s about the strange persistence of love in a world that offers no space for it, and the courage it takes to ride back into memory, even knowing it can’t be changed.
Short in runtime, but vast in feeling, Strange Way of Life stands as Almodóvar’s haunting queer Western—burning softly with all the things that go unsaid.