What is it about 1999 Spanish films and their mothers? Their stories are mesmerizing and the mothers are selfless saints—at least that's the case with Pedro Almoldovar's All About My Mother and now with Benito Zambrano's quietly elegant Solas (Alone).

The official star of the film, the thin and beautiful Maria (Ana Fernandez), looks like a typical Almoldovar character--she refuses to eat while guzzling down whiskey, hooks up with an louse of a boyfriend, and lives in a ramshackle musty smelling apartment. But Solas is dominated by the powerful dignity of her mother (Maria Galiana), a simple woman who has long suffered at the abusive hands of her ill-tempered, alcoholic husband.

Maria's mother leaves the village to accompany her husband to the city for necessary surgery. She stays with her daughter, quickly perceiving that Maria lacks a healthy lifestyle, so she helps out in every way. While Maria rages and drinks excessively, her mother quietly brings order to Maria's mildew encrusted apartment—bringing in potted flowers, a rocking chair, and healthy food, all the while perpetually knitting.

She visits and cares for an elderly neighbor, a lonely old bearded man (Carlos Alvarez-Novoa) who has only his German Shepherd for company. The neighbor quickly becomes attracted to and attached to Maria's mother, but this is done in a touching, respectable, and humorous way. Don't expect any sexual misconduct here; after all, Maria's mother is in her mid 60's while the old man is in his 70s (and this is no Almodovar film).

Of course, the recovering husband suspects illicit activity, as he scowls that he "smells a man" on her whenever his wife visits the hospital. This illustrates the hell that this woman has endured over the years with this grouch--one who habitually beat his wife and his children, causing all his offspring to flee.

There's also a story of sorts that accompanies Maria, her loser boyfriend, and a possible abortion. While some of Maria's temperamental flare-ups seem over the top, her frank and tearful discussions about abortion seem real—much more so than the glossy ones covered in The Cider House Rules.

But this is a much rougher film, devoid of Hollywood glitz. Solas plays out like a slice of life that slowly reveals its central characters so nakedly that we gain access to their souls—most successfully with the mother. Her scenes with the neighbor are especially honest, gentle, and human. There's a believable tenderness between these two characters that never gets too smaltzy.

While watching Solas, I was reminded of Ma Joad in John Ford's adaptation of The Grapes of Wrath, as the Earth Mother who just keeps going on like the river. It's rare to find films that accurately illustrate the closely-knit bonds between mothers and daughters in dysfunctional situations. At least it is with Hollywood films.

Some will think that Solas moves too slowly, and that you have to wait for the punch line at the end to gain satisfaction. I disagree, but I also enjoy people watching in coffee shops.

Solas won 5 Goya Awards (Spanish equivalent to Oscar) this year while its flashier counterpart All About My Mother took 7 top awards. They are both wonderful films, but Solas has far less commercial value in the U.S. and will be difficult to find. If you have access to a video outlet that specializes in foreign films, check it out if you're into character studies..