Another slow-moving, barely edited film by Arturo Ripstein, this film creeps along at a snail’s pace and expects us to remain interested.
Ripstein should have been a theater director, as he cannot resist shooting films as if they were plays. His tableaux are simple and stagy, his dialogue overwrought and soap-opera-like, and his camera work uninspired. I don’t get the appeal of his work.
His films possess the melodramatic gaudiness, color, and unflinching eye of many south-of-the-border films I’ve seen, yet lack the zany humor and lust for life that I’ve witnessed in other Mexican film — evident, for example, in the work of Buquel (who greatly influenced Ripstein). Ripstein takes himself far too seriously, especially considering his interest in unusual characters in potentially comedic situations, and his works have a ponderous weight that drag them down