Vita rubata

A masterpiece in any language, La Otra, in the skillful hands of its impeccable players and highly imaginative craftsmen, emerges as one of the most moving, dramatic and poignant experiences in the whole history of the cinema.

I don't wish to give away too many details of a plot that is so brilliantly constructed that shock after shock after shock is tellingly delivered right up to the emotionally devastating finale. It's even too much to say that Dolores Del Rio has a dual role. The sudden revelation, when the widow finally lifts her veil, that the sisters are identical twins is the first of many startling twists in this tautly realistic yet wholly credible plot. Needless to say, Miss Del Rio not only plays both roles so brilliantly we always know which sister is on the screen (even when one wears the other's clothes), but manages the transformation with even greater finesse. Yet, at the same time, she always captures the viewer's complete sympathy.

Victor Junco is wonderful in a showy role as the villain, but tends to obscure (on a first viewing anyway), the superb performance delivered by Agustin Irusta. The scene in which he re-enters the café with the "twin" is one of the most poignant and emotionally charged moments in world cinema. Director Gavaldon focuses our attention on his ravaged face as he explains his feelings to Magdalena, and it is impossible to remain unmoved at his despair.

In this movie all the special effects are used to re-inforce the drama. They are not ends in themselves. In the confrontation scenes between the twins, I noticed only one effect on a first viewing. (There are actually two. The other is very subtle, yet far more dramatic). There are, however, many frightening visual effects when the house itself seems to take on an air of confrontational menace. What I didn't realize on a first viewing, is that it is actually in sound effects that the movie excels. If I were giving an award for the most imaginative and emotionally charged audio effects in the cinema, La Otra would top the list.

To say Gavaldon's direction is absolutely brilliant would be to gravely underestimate his artistry and inventiveness. Mind you, he was able to take advantage not only of Alex Phillips' skillfully moody cinematography and Raul Lavista's emotive music score, but the amazingly atmospheric sets designed by Gunther Gerszo. True, these sets do become more terrifyingly expressionistic at the finale, but mostly they look—at first glance—elaborate yet pretty ordinary. But Gerszo has actually built hidden menaces into these sets, which Gavaldon and Phillips never fail to explore at just the right dramatic moments.

It's difficult to credit that La Otra was edged out of a swag of Ariels by Enamorada—a movie I've not seen but am now eagerly looking forward to. It's hardly possible to imagine another 1946 Mexican nominee equaling or excelling the enervating emotional intensity of La Otra.

Based on a Rian James ' thriller , it was remade with Bette Davis in America as "dead ringer" ,but the first version is much better .They are even shades of "vertigo" in the relationship between Maria turned Magadalena and her ex-suitor ; the last scene is so intense that it's quite possible that the distraught man has finally discovered the horrible truth .And neither "vertigo" nor the French novel on which the screenplay was written "d'entre les morts" existed in 1946.

Death and madness are the keynotes as it would be in "El niño y la niebla "(1953) and "Mascario" (1960)-which began with the feast of dead in Mexico . Like Olivia De Havilland in "the dark mirror" released the very same year , Dolores Del Rio plays two parts ,but unlike the Siodmak psychological suspense , there is no "good one" and "bad one" ;after all when you put Maria and Magdalena together ,you get the name of a biblical woman who was in turn a sinner and a saint .

Physically and morally ,both sisters are worlds apart : Maria looks like a spinster , Magdalena a sexy socialite whose most fervent wish is to get rid of her mourning clothes .Maria is exploited,economically and sexually , by a society that leaves only one hope : to win on the lottery (signs often appear on her way) .

Roberto Gavaldon's directing is ,as usual ,brilliant : the opening scene ,a funeral , the murder (the shot is lost in the din of the firecrackers ,while a clown's head is dangling , a threatening omen (in El niño y la niebla (1953) , in the masked ball ,a terrifying dancer represents madness); when she comes back to her victim's house , the mourners are praying for her brother-in-law 's soul ,and the viewer before he hears the incantations thinks Maria is losing her mind.And afterward she becomes almost crazy in the empty house where shadows and lights create a presence (a sublime shot of a mirror reflects three images of the woman ).

And finally ,when she is aware of her brother-in-law's will ,she will understand she threw away her most precious things ;the buck who woos her (her sister's lover) is a hateful fortune-hunter who blackmails her.

Suspense is sustained till the last minute ,as I write above , and " la otra" compares favorably with the best American films noirs.

I just finished watching this movie on You Tube. As a warning, I think it fair to prevent the reader that my comment has been done leaving aside all logical thinking. I'm using only my gut feelings to say what I'm saying about this movie, otherwise it'll be impossible to accept the incredible script, awkward situations, cardboard like acting and impossible sets, all of it totally contrived, but maybe because of that it's such a watchable movie, because it's so bad that it's good, VERY good.

Do I make any sense??

Since the other reviewers did an excellent job with their critics, I don't want to repeat impressions quite similar to my own.

I just want to say that I'm still overwhelmed by the experience...

What a movie, what a jewel of kitsch!!! I always adored, as a child, Dolores del Río (since then, I've come a long way...), although I never saw her at the peak of her supernatural beauty, when in the twenties and thirties of the 20th century she lived and worked in Hollywood and was considered one of the most beautiful and glamorous women of that time, in Hollywood or in any other place on earth (this movie --1946- makes her about 40 or older, but still ravishing).

I agree with one of the reviewers about the scene where the detective and one of the twin sisters go to the bar where he used to go before "the incident" and he remembers his bride in front of this woman... I never whimpered so hard watching a scene as I did watching this one and long ago watching Philadelphia (1993).

Finally, there are TWO LINES the detective says at the end of the movie that definitely will blow your mind sky high (the script is so good --in this particularly kitschy way-- that it'll be impossible to top it even nowadays).

And the very last scene is unforgettable, since the doomed future of this tragic character weighs on the spectator with the force of a ten ton truck hitting you on the head.

Seriously, I don't have words to express what this movie stirred in me, as bad as it is.

Mexican movies of that time are incredible masterpieces (in that twisted way).

The black and white photography, the impeccable Spanish pronunciation of these actors, the MOOD..., If I got that carried away watching this movie in my small computer screen, I cannot imagine what reaction I could've had at a movie theater, with the big screen and big sound. I suppose I would've been carried away between two alarmed nurses to the next hospital ward in utter anguished ecstasy.

As I said at the beginning, relax, don't use the reasoning side of your brain and you'll have a hell of a fascinating time watching this movie.

Just incredible.

Although I liked very much the detailed review of "Melvelvit" I would like to add that this interesting film, one of the best in the Mexican movies history, is due to the collaboration of American writer Rian James and one of the most important Mexican writers of the era, José Revueltas, and the Mexican film director Roberto Gavaldón. Actually, "La Otra" is one of the best Del Río and Gavaldón films, as well the set designer Gunther Gerszo (sometimes written Gerzso or Gerzo)and photographer Alex Phillips, all important figures in the artistic Mexican world. The "gothic nightmare... somber night-world ambiance" is due to Mexican Gerszo, who studied and worked at the Cleveland Play House in the USA, and combined his movie jobs with painting, becoming one of the most important Mexican abstract painters. In movies, he worked with John Ford ("Sombrerito", in Hollywood), John Houston ("Under the Volcano"), Luis Buñuel ("Susana", "Una mujer sin amor" and "El Bruto" with Kathy Jurado) as well with the most important Mexican directors. He did the sets for Mexican cult films "El Vampiro" (The Vampire) and its sequel, El Ataud del Vampiro" (The Vampire Coffin) about which he claimed, never even watched once they were finished (and they're great as camp Mexican movies examples!)

By the early 1940's the actress described by Marlene Dietrich as 'the most beautiful woman ever to come to Hollywood', found life in Tinseltown to be untenable and returned to her native Mexico where the films she made with director Emilio Fernández not only established her as the biggest star of that country's Golden Age but enabled her to excel in roles that would have been inconceivable in Hollywood. Another director for whom Dolores del Rio shone was Roberto Gavaldón and this magnificent 'Noir' marks their first collaboration.

Gavaldón has directed with flair and finesse whilst cinematographer Alex Phillips, set designer Gunther Gerszo and composer Raúl Lavista have created an eerie, otherworldy feel although some might question excessive use of the theremin.

Unlike the other 'twin sister' movies released the same year: 'Stolen Life' and 'Dark Mirror', Gavaldón's film cleverly blurs the moral boundaries and throws in some Catholic guilt for good measure. Despite playing a murderess del Rio engages our sympathy and at a very well preserved forty-two is convincing in the romantic interludes whereas the remake from 1964 had to be drastically rewritten to accommodate a Bette Davis in her late fifties.

Gavaldón's is a quintessential film of its type, the final scene of which lingers long in the memory.