Maison de rendez-vous

I'm intrigued by the distinctive film genres which evolve among the world's cultures. Germany developed the 'mountain film' genre, in which a male hero (or sometimes two male rivals) will achieve greater self-knowledge high up in the mountains, in the presence of a beautiful Aryan woman who embodies the earth-spirit. Mexico developed the 'wrestling mummy' movie genre, about which the less said the better. But Mexico is also the home of the 'cabaretera' genre of movie musical, in which a beautiful young woman is caught between a soap-opera plot line and elaborate floor numbers set in a nightclub. The 1950 film 'Aventurera' ('adventuress') is the best of the cabaretera films, and it's delightful ... it's hokey and implausible, but in a very enjoyable way.

MAJOR SPOILERS THROUGHOUT. Lovely young Cuban actress/dancer Ninón Sevilla stars as Elena, a virginal (but gorgeous blonde) Mejicana who is utterly devoted to her father. When Papa learns that his wife (Elena's mother) is unfaithful, he shoots himself. Elena abandons her villainous mother, and goes off to Mexico City to seek her fortune.

She meets a handsome young man named Lucio who offers to protect her, and who immediately takes her to meet a domineering woman named Rosaura who offers Elena a cup of tea ... which turns out to be drugged. Lucio and Rosaura are 'white slavers' who plan to force Elena to use her body for their profit ... but it's not what you'd expect. Instead of prostitution, they force her to perform as the star of a cabaret act! Elena's cabaret numbers are campy, but I was relieved that they never quite sink to the Carmen Miranda level. (I despise Carmen Miranda.) The musical numbers are impressively staged, on a large budget, and are enjoyable in their own right... all with a Latin beat. The title song, a gentle ballad sung by a male soloist accompanied by Spanish guitar, is wistful and haunting.

Eventually Elena escapes from the nightclub. She meets a handsome and wealthy young man who wants to marry her, but first he takes her home to meet his extremely respectable dowager mother ... who turns out to be Rosaura the madame! There is some witty dialogue here. Rosaura (in her second guise) offers a cup of tea to Elena, who replies: 'I had some once. I didn't like it.'

Although the plot line is outrageous, it's also extremely predictable ... because (except for her dead dad) every major character whom Elena meets in the first half of the movie turns up 'unexpectedly' in the second half of the film, so eventually these 'unexpected' appearances become very expected indeed. At one point late in the film, as Elena walked back to her hotel room, I found myself thinking: 'Lucio hasn't come back yet: it's just about time for him to escape from prison and come looking for Elena.' Just as I thought this, Elena walked into her room and switched on the light. Guess who's sitting there.

'Aventurera' has some very strong 'noir' elements. Except for Elena and her father, every major character in this movie is unsympathetic. Based on the worldview depicted here, almost all women are treacherous ... and almost all men are criminals and perverts who exploit women. Interestingly, the sleaziest character in this movie is also one of the very few sympathetic characters. This is a filthy little toad-like derelict named El Rana, who has a talent for throwing knives. He attaches himself to Elena and follows her about pathetically. His appearance and behaviour suggest a stereotypical pervert, but his interest in Elena really seems to arise from dog-like affection rather than lust. At the end of the film, El Rana murders Lucio with a well-placed 'cuchillo', then he watches approvingly from the shadows as Elena goes off to seek a better life for herself. It's clear that this strange little man's interest in Elena is unselfish, and that he realises he's unworthy of her.

I'll rate 'Aventurera' 8 out of 10. Its depiction of life in Mexico is wildly unrealistic, yet it still provides an interesting view of Mexican culture ... because this is the sort of story that many Mexican filmgoers want to see.

The best known in a series of lurid "Rumbera" films, a genre peculiar to Mexican Cinema which combines noir and musical numbers, and usually takes place in the underworld of nightclubs and gangsters. Starring Cuban actress Ninón Sevilla and directed by Alberto Gout who directed her in other similar films with names such as "Perdida" and "Sensualidad". Over the top photography and acting has to be seen to be believed. The image of the star in her "pineapple hat" is memorable. A campy stage show was created in the 1990's based on the film and is still running today in Mexico City. The great Andrea Palma appears in her later, matronly, manifestation as the "madam".

The 'Cabaretera' became a staple of Mexican cinema in the late 1940''s and reflected increased urbanisation and the darker side of the post-war economic boom. The most popular star of this genre was undoubtedly Cuban-born Ninón Sevilla and although her finest role was provided by Emilio Fernández in 'Victims of Sin', it was this first of three 'Rumberas' she made for Alberto Gout that put her firmly on the map.

Her transition from wide-eyed innocent to avenging angel is wondrous to behold and her scenes with the excellent Andrea Palma are utterly riveting. The rat here is not for once played by Rodolfo Acosta but by Tito Junco whilst Miguel Inclan is an absolute riot as a knife-wielding, hunchbacked mute. Senorita Sevilla is of course in her element in the production numbers which resemble Columbia's low-budget musicals of the era. At one point she is obliged to do a Carmen Miranda and seeing her sporting a pineapple headdress one shudders to think what sort of vehicles and costumes the Hollywood studios would have put her in had she accepted their offers. As it turned out her frank sexuality kept the film out of American theatres throughout the 1950's courtesy of that arbiter of public morals, the benighted Production Code.

There are sufficient plot twists to maintain one's interest with the 'noir' touch supplied by Canadian-born cinematographer Alex Phillips and Antonio Diaz Condes' rather overripe score matching the melodramic mood.

Subtlety is not exactly the name of the game here and this piece has been variously described as 'high camp' and 'kitsch' but Gout has directed proceedings with flair and of its type the film remains quintessential.

"Aventurera" has a good plot, but unfortunately the script was so watered down that all of its edginess is gone and what's left doesn't exactly make much sense. I assume it's because Mexican censors of the day wouldn't allow the film to be as explicit as it needed to be-- hence it comes off as a bit of a letdown. So, in many ways it is reminiscent of a post-code Hollywood picture--gutted of its sexuality and sordidness.

When the film begins, Elena is a happy young woman and her life seems wonderful. However, soon everything is in shambles and she's fighting to keep herself alive. It all begins when Elena's mother takes off with another man. The father, in his grief, commits suicide! Suddenly, Elena is forced to fend for herself and she cannot find a job. A 'friend' offers to help her and after he gives her some adulterated champagne, she awakens to find herself in captivity--forced to work for an evil lady.

At this point, you assume Elena is going to be a prostitute--and it looks as if that is what the film WANTS to say. However, this 'debased life' involves being forced to sing at a nightclub!!!! Huh?! Does this make sense?! Nah. They really are attempting, in a very clumsy way, to imply she's a prostitute and sleeps with customers--though you never see anything remotely like this and it's obviously a case of over-sanitizing the plot.

What follows is a plot by Elena not only to escape from her boss but to ruin her. The idea of this is great. But, like the whole prostitution angle, the film avoids the gritty angle and wimps out twice. First, the evil slasher Rengo inexplicably does NOT kill or disfigure Elena when he's ordered to but instead becomes her evil guardian angel. Why? I have absolutely NO idea. Second, after carrying out her plan to destroy the woman, Elena gets cold feet and backs off from her plan to ruin the 'lady' and her son. Why? Again, I just don't know!

Overall, this could have been a gritty and exciting film. Had it been made in France at the same time, it would have been dark and much less sanitized. While this is supposed to be one of Mexico's better films of the era, I just found it all to be a boring mess which again and again failed to capitalize on a decent story idea.

This greatly satisfying 1950 Mexican film, directed by Alberto Gout, is one of the best of the genre. It helped to have cast a charismatic Ninon Sevilla to star as the woman at the center of the action.

The story of "Aventurera", with its twists and turns, is something that was typical of the 1950s films from Mexico. The story of a young, and naive young woman who learns about her mother's disloyalty to a father she adores, sends this film spinning into a real adventure. Along the way, we are taken to watch Elena Tejero deal with the evils around her. She will remain a good woman no matter what.

As in all the Mexican soap operas that are a staple of that country's TV, "Aventurera" keeps building up on unsavory situations where our heroine will have to fight against until everything turns well at the end. Elena Tejera is different in many ways; she never stoops low to the sleazy life where everyone wants to get her into.

Ninon Sevilla, the Cuban born star of "Aventurera" makes a charismatic appearance in the film. She is a gorgeous woman seen here at the height of her youth. Tito Junco as Lucio Saenz has some good moments. Andrea Palma is excellent as the villainous Rosaura and Ruben Rojo is the kind Mario.

This is a fun film that keeps delighting us.