Almodovar sends up Freudian seriousness in regard to sex hilariously and even appears (in drag) in front of the camera singing a couple of raunchy songs.

A glamorous clash of frocks and jocks (and jocks in frocks) in a Madrid peopled by drug-takers, pop stars, wannabes, terrorists and sex maniacs.

[Labyrinth of Passion]...shows off the bright, gaudy visual style, the breezy manner and the exuberant energy that are Mr. Almodovar's particular virtues.

The film spins out of control — the weird, wired plot is the only thing that keeps it strung together — but it is ultimately satisfying.