Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator
Look, Paloma de mis amores is not for everyone. If you’re hunting for a tight thriller like Winner Take All, you are going to be bored to tears within the first ten minutes.
This is for the people who want to hear that specific, cracking voice of Niño de Marchena. If you just want to see how they used to frame musical numbers in the thirties, it’s a neat little artifact. Otherwise, you’ll probably hate the lack of momentum. It’s slow. Like, really, really slow.
The whole thing feels like a stage play that someone forgot to take the camera away from. There’s this weird stiffness to the way everyone stands around when they aren't singing. It’s like they were waiting for a director to yell something that never came.
And the singing? It’s fine. It’s what you came for, right? But the gaps between the songs feel like dead air. The characters just sort of exist in these dusty rooms, looking at each other with that dramatic, over-the-top intensity that old films had.
I can’t tell if the script was just thin or if they just didn't care about the connective tissue between the music. Probably both. You can almost feel the movie trying to convince you that the drama matters, even when the dialogue feels like it’s being read off a chalkboard just off-camera. 🙄
One reaction shot near the middle lingers so long I actually laughed out loud. It just wouldn't cut away. It’s a very specific kind of awkward that you only get with films this old.
At the end of the day, it’s a curiosity. Don’t go in expecting a masterpiece of narrative. Just listen to the songs and enjoy the flickering grain of the film. It’s not a great movie, but it is a real one. And sometimes that’s enough to keep you watching until the credits finally, mercifully, roll.

Year
1936
IMDb Rating
—

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Deciphering the legacy of transgressive cult cinema.
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