"Take My Eyes (Te doy mis ojos)" is a frank, classy woman in jeopardy/Lifetime TV for Women film.
A couple of elements raise it above Hollywood's unfortunately already tired treatment of abused wives in such films as "Sleeping with the Enemy" or "Enough", among many others.
First is the superb acting by Laia Marull as "Pilar". Her transformation from frightened mouse to tentative independent to an expressive person with a back bone is riveting. She does look distractingly like Annabella Sciorra, but that means she is beautiful and very womanly.
Second is the emphasis less on the physical violence by an abuser that American films revel in (this film opens right after such an incident) than on the psychological impact, both on abuser and victim. Even amidst strife, this is a passionate couple who were very much in love, though we get hints from the beginning that he was controlling, as in the conversations that include the titular phrase. Unlike Hollywood, her final revenge is not violent but in how she uses those words back at him.
Uniquely, we see the husband (Luis Tosar as "Antonio" looking distractingly like the Irish actor James Nesbitt) as a 360 degree person, with his own family stresses, and not just as the usual evil incarnate. Though we don't see how he got into anger-management therapy sessions for abusers that in the U.S. are usually only a result of a court-order and I couldn't tell from the untranslated credits what experts were consulted for these recreations, they are a fascinating look at an attempt to change abusive behaviors. The shrink finds he has to teach these guys even how to have a conversation with their wives to prevent triggers, let alone what to do when rage starts filling their heads.
Another difference is that while the husband jealously fixates on the possibility of her finding a new lover, a sensitive new age guy character invariably appears in the Hollywood versions (and it was entertainingly non-stereotypical that the Scottish brother-in-law is held up as a prized alternative), the threat to his marriage actually comes from her relationships with the women in her life, from family to friends. Through them she becomes more attuned to humiliation as violence than even her hospital records filled with lied about fractures. It was a bit much symbolically to have her suddenly get into artistic presentations of ancient sexy myths, though it was nice that the credits identified each of the paintings discussed.
While sadly this is a familiar story in filmed outline, the film is continually suspenseful and involving as to what they will do, together and apart.
A couple of elements raise it above Hollywood's unfortunately already tired treatment of abused wives in such films as "Sleeping with the Enemy" or "Enough", among many others.
First is the superb acting by Laia Marull as "Pilar". Her transformation from frightened mouse to tentative independent to an expressive person with a back bone is riveting. She does look distractingly like Annabella Sciorra, but that means she is beautiful and very womanly.
Second is the emphasis less on the physical violence by an abuser that American films revel in (this film opens right after such an incident) than on the psychological impact, both on abuser and victim. Even amidst strife, this is a passionate couple who were very much in love, though we get hints from the beginning that he was controlling, as in the conversations that include the titular phrase. Unlike Hollywood, her final revenge is not violent but in how she uses those words back at him.
Uniquely, we see the husband (Luis Tosar as "Antonio" looking distractingly like the Irish actor James Nesbitt) as a 360 degree person, with his own family stresses, and not just as the usual evil incarnate. Though we don't see how he got into anger-management therapy sessions for abusers that in the U.S. are usually only a result of a court-order and I couldn't tell from the untranslated credits what experts were consulted for these recreations, they are a fascinating look at an attempt to change abusive behaviors. The shrink finds he has to teach these guys even how to have a conversation with their wives to prevent triggers, let alone what to do when rage starts filling their heads.
Another difference is that while the husband jealously fixates on the possibility of her finding a new lover, a sensitive new age guy character invariably appears in the Hollywood versions (and it was entertainingly non-stereotypical that the Scottish brother-in-law is held up as a prized alternative), the threat to his marriage actually comes from her relationships with the women in her life, from family to friends. Through them she becomes more attuned to humiliation as violence than even her hospital records filled with lied about fractures. It was a bit much symbolically to have her suddenly get into artistic presentations of ancient sexy myths, though it was nice that the credits identified each of the paintings discussed.
While sadly this is a familiar story in filmed outline, the film is continually suspenseful and involving as to what they will do, together and apart.