I thoroughly enjoyed this. It had much hotness – Gael Garcia Bernal smouldering in drag, Fele Martinez’s auteur-with-eyeliner aura, and all the priests in their fitting black surplices! – and it spun a great yarn. Any attempt to summarise the hows and whys of this by anyone who isn’t Almodovar will probably make the movie out to be little better than Wild Things with foreign film cred, so I won’t try. Although I suppose it may annoy people who prefer their disbelief unsuspended, I think its surprises are artful and well-orchestrated, and don’t cross that “Oh, COME ON!” line in the sands of credibility.