Fast chat: Pedro Almodóvar

You wouldn't necessarily think Pedro Almodóvar is Pedro Almodóvar. The acclaimed Spanish director of such edgy, sexy, unpredictable films as "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" and "All About My Mother" (which won an Academy Award for best foreign language film) should look more angular, somehow, or sinister. But here he sits, in a suite at the swank Peninsula Hotel, stirring coffee with an affable smile, white fluff of hair like a Q-tip -- more "Sesame Street" Muppet than master of melodrama.

But that idea -- that one's outward appearance is never, or less and less so these days, a sure indicator of a person's true identity -- is exactly what the Spanish director explores in his latest film, "The Skin I Live In," a Hitchcockian thriller starring Antonio Banderas. It hits Long Island theaters Nov. 4.

Almodóvar, who lives in Madrid, met with Newsday contributor Joseph V. Amodio, accompanied by a translator. He answered some questions in Spanish, some in English.

Skin is the largest organ. Race can be expressed through skin, and emotions. So until recently skin was something that could really identify humanity in very specific ways. But now it's become this very malleable thing, through plastic surgery. . . .

That might seem like science fiction. But it's already happening, at least in Spain -- the cultivation of artificial skin.

Like women of a certain age, who start to cut their hair shorter [he chuckles] . . . as I entered my 50s I started watching a lot of thrillers and film noir.

Oh, absolutely. Hitchcock is . . . perhaps the director I most admire. The way he mixed the thriller with a sense of glamour is very interesting. And the humor in his films. Or his interest in the women in his films -- slightly . . . uh . . . corrupt and perverse. I mean he was completely in love of Tippi Hedren, of Vera Miles. Not Kim Novak. He didn't want Kim Novak for "Vertigo," because he was in love of Vera Miles. Then Vera Miles commit the crime to be . . . pregnant. And he never forgive her for that.

I think it was, uh, "El Hombre que Sabe Demasiado."

With Doris Day and James Stewart. I'm always fascinated by it. And "Vertigo." But "Vertigo" is different. There's not a lot of humor -- it's passion . . . and obsession. In "Vertigo," I identify with James Stewart, the way he wants to construct this woman -- the way she dresses, speaks, puts her hair up. Like a director. This is what I do when I'm preparing the character with, say, Penélope Cruz. I remember I was especially hooked . . . uh, let's say . . . physically . . .

Yes, it's very difficult not to be attracted to her. [He laughs.]

Well . . . he has a family, he's a father, he's 50, but he didn't change in his generosity. He was the same -- joking to the crew all the time. We felt as if time hadn't gone by. He plays a passionate person, but he's obsessed and crazy. So we had to empty him out of emotion. No expression. That was new for him.

This is true. [He chuckles.] "Fabulador" is like a storyteller. When I was like 8, my two older sisters and I would go to the movies. The next day, they'd say, "Pedro, tell us the movie we saw last night." And I'd start, but change everything. They were fascinated. When I went to Madrid, I was 16 or 17. I wanted to go to film school, but it was closed by Franco. When I could get enough money, I bought a Super-8 millimeter camera, and I start shooting every weekend. In daylight -- because it was cheaper. And easier. And that was my school. So . . . uh, oh, please forgive . . . this unperfect Eengleesh.

No, it's my problem. I should speak English. I'm in New York -- it's my duty to learn.

Debe . . .

Sí, pero está cociendo, eh? [Translation: Yes, but, you're cooking, eh?]