In this alternately macabre and mirthful thriller, based on a true-crime story, renowned Mexican director Arturo Ripstein brings a stylish audacity to the tale of the “Lonely Hearts Killers,” a couple who, in the 1940s, posed and brother and sister to lure and murder unsuspecting widows.
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In the end, it is a grotesque and horrifying story of what two individuals do to feel loved. As the film unravels, their actions become more despicable but with the masterful movement of the camera wandering the sordid interiors and the long takes, one feels part of the story as a detached voyeur. The film hits several high notes wonderfully that one begins to wonder why it isn't included in the cinematic canon.
The only film I've ever seen that equalled the master's ability to trap it's characters into the same horrible box, against a wall, the film is like watching that, "anorexic space between love and hate." What Ripstein does has only been done by Naruse before and Farhadi after, he made a deeply, unrepentantly human film.
Odie a la tipa desde que supe que era una asquerosa madre. Los asesinatos fueron beyond evil! y finalmente la gordura y el mal aliento de la mujer ayudaban a odiarla más. No había detestado tanto a una pareja del cine en mucho tiempo lo cual me impresiono mucho. La tomas lentamente en movimiento y los escenarios tan comunes y cotidianos fueron los culpables de este maravilloso shock visual.