With Javier Bardem such hot property in the States now, Biutiful is only his second Spanish speaking film since 2004’s The Sea Inside. For his European return, he’s chosen a role in a film that almost defines bleakness.

Although Barcelona has a gloss that attracts a lot of tourist attention, it is a city, like so many cities, with a dark underbelly.

Uxbal (Bardem) is a good-hearted father of two, but he likes to fly under the radar as far as his work is concerned. Not that he believes he’s doing anything wrong; he facilitates work for African and Chinese immigrants within the Spanish community. Of course his services come at a price, but at least those deemed illegal by the government get a shot at a better life and some cash in their pockets.

But this kind of work has its risks; even paying off the cops is no guarantee that there won’t be any trouble. His personal life is just as precarious; separated from his wife who is not only bi-polar, but is also trying to control a drink problem, Uxbal is constantly trying to put the welfare of his children first.

And then his health takes a turn for the worse, and he learns that he only has months to live. Telling no-one about his situation, he concentrates on finding some redemption in the shape of trying to provide for his children’s future. But as Uxbal soon finds out, redemption comes at a cost.

Mexican director Alejandro González Iñárritu is unlikely to win an award for feel-good film of the year any time soon if this or his previous efforts (Amores Perros, 21 Grams, Babel) are anything to go by. He uses the camera like a scalpel, dissecting his characters’ emotions on screen for all the world to see. The results, more often than not, can leave the viewer a little punch drunk from the rawness and potency of the pain his characters endure.

To that extent, Bardem’s character here is an emotional punching bag, taking hit after hit after hit. Kudos to Bardem for certainly looking the part; the further into the film you get, the more emotionally and physically drained he becomes. His journey is one that after a while is akin to rubbernecking at an accident; there’s a part of you that knows it’s wrong to stare at the wreck in front of you, but you can’t help but be drawn into it.

But with no light at all at the end of this particular tunnel, Iñárritu’s film is a traumatic ordeal to endure. This feeling is compounded by the film’s length; at fifteen minutes shy of the three hour mark, witnessing someone spiral into such an incredible world of pain for such a period of time is borderline masochistic.

Bardem’s performance is certainly worth his Best Actor nomination at this year’s Oscars; the depths he goes to emotionally on screen would make a lesser actor suffer from the bends.

It’s a tragic tale on a Shakespearean scale, so be prepared for a truly harrowing experience Iñárritu style .