Vita rubata

With only a handfull of reviews, and seemingly no wide-spread popularity, it is time to advocate for this movie.

There is nothing wrong with it, it has a 'noir' feeling, and plays on a larger scale of levels of the basic human feelings. There are some twists and turns, there are no lengths, a tight script, good cinematography, and as basis a story of depth. All well done! (Except, and we all knew that, didn't we? That Mexican actors are not the greatest ones. So here. Otherwise I might have given a '10'.

The story has been described elsewhere, a twin of sisters, one completely different character-wise from the other - so it seems - lead totally different lives: one in luxury, the other at the lower end of the financial scale. They quarrel frequently.

At one moment in time, one has to chance to slip into the role of the other. And does that quite efficiently. Though only to discover that the other, the rich one, doesn't actually suffer less.

And then there's this police officer who - we assume by the script - was told to vie for about the most ridiculously-in-love person that one can imagine. But he's not in love with the lady that the other one has taken up, so he'll probably miss his luck.

And at the very end, when discovering the true ongoings, he suddenly falls from love. So it seems that only his girl kind of expects to be loved, and still is in love.

Sometimes this movie reminds me of Bunuel: In the end, there is not 'the good one' and neither 'the bad one'.

In case you have an opportunity to watch this movie: make sure not to miss it!

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!)

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.

This movie is rarely seen in the United States. This is a shame. This film is filled with suspense, atmosphere and poetry, from its visuals to its score.

There is a hint of German Expressionism here, as in all Noir movies of the forties and fifties. (This was made in 1946 by a studio in Mexico City.) Del Rio is statuesque and, at the same time, vulnerable. Her work in the silent era informs this performance. I have a feeling Billy Wilder had a glance at this. It preceded SUNSET BOULEVARD by a few years, and Del Rio could very easily have played Norma Desmond.

The other actors here are solid, and they each have doppelgängers. (Del Rio plays twins.) There is a good guy who courts the protagonist and there's a bad guy doing the same.

There is a mood of regret bordering on a fear of damnation and Del Rio conveys this mood with her face. Mexico City looks holy, haunted and hard, what with the monumental stonework in every shot.

1946 may have been the best time to film this, and Mexico the best place. Nothing is overt, but it is a daring, dramatic look at a life lived under the surface.

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.