Carlos Saura’s Peppermint Frappe is another incisive and biting interrogation of masculinity. You can easily see the influence Vertigo had on the film (especially in the way references are woven throughout its fabric), but it’s refreshing to see Saura explore the ways that this impulse in men to shape and control the women in their lives is so incredibly destructive, toxic, and perverse. There’s also an exploration of privilege in Spanish society under Franco, as well as the entitlement wealthy men feel toward women’s bodies, luxuries, and indeed, anything they want. There are different levels to this privilege, so while our nominal protagonist might have power in one setting, the husband of the woman he loves wields much more power in others. The use of color throughout is striking, with gorgeous bursts of green and red in tight compositions that stick with you long after the film has ended. Saura also uses long sequence shots that encircle the characters, placing us in the viewpoint of the menacing, roving, and hungry eyes of the film’s men. There’s only one way this film could end, and Saura keeps ratcheting up the tension until we reach its inevitable, gruesome conclusion.