More than a decade prior to the release of  Belle de Jour, Spanish filmmaker Luis Buñuel directed this Mexican melodrama about the effects of infidelity on a family. 

At first it may not seem as if there is much that distinguishes the 1952 Mexican movie A Woman Without Love from other films of its era. The narrative generally never strays far from the confines of romantic melodrama, and the film features a constrained, yet lush and glamorous aesthetic clearly indebted to Classical Hollywood. However, upon further inspection it becomes clear that what makes A Woman Without Love stand out is that it represents nothing less than the aesthetic foundations upon which the legacy of one of the great canonical filmmakers rests. I’m referring, of course, to the Spanish auteur Luis Buñuel, who by this point in his career had embedded himself within the Mexican film industry. 

Made a decade prior to the iconic Exterminating Angel (the film which many believe to be where Buñuel first fully came into his own as an artist), A Woman Without Love does not feature the emphasis on surrealism that has defined public perception of Buñuel’s work at least since the 1929 release of Un Chien Andalou, an experimental short film co-produced with Salvador Dalí. While aesthetically and narratively being a far more restrained effort than his later works, A Woman Without Love still features many of Buñuel’s auteurist tendencies. The most prominent of these is a focus on the emotional and psychological effects of infidelity. 

As demonstrated in his 1967 film Belle de Jour, Buñuel was fascinated by loveless relationships and the ways in which people seek out the happiness they cannot find with their partners in other people. A Woman Without Love may exemplify this tendency better than any other movie in Buñuel’s filmography, going so far as to include the topic in its title. The narrative is centered on a woman named Rosario (played, appropriately enough, by the actress Rosario Granados) and her unhappy, loveless relationship with her husband, Don Carlos Montero (Julio Villarreal). The product of an arranged marriage, their relationship is only held together by the sense of responsibility Rosario feels towards their son, Carlitos (Jaime Calpe). 

After running away from home to escape the authoritarian environment fostered by his father, Carlitos is discovered by a man named Julio Mistral. After returning Carlitos to his home, Julio strikes up a friendship with the family which eventually turns into an affair with Rosario. The two briefly plan to elope to Brazil and take her son with them, but after her husband suffers a heart attack and Carlitos grows more attached to him in the aftermath, their plans fall through. While remaining understanding of her situation, Julio eventually lets Rosario know that he won’t continue seeing her in secret, and that he will be leaving soon for Brazil with or without her. Not wanting to put undue stress on her husband in his weakened state or to alienate him from his son, Rosario decides to sacrifice her own happiness and fulfillment for the sake of her family. 

Part of what makes A Woman Without Love so compelling (especially given its Latin American context and the intense emphasis placed upon maternity in Mexican culture) is that, rather than pass judgement upon Rosario and celebrate her decision to prioritize her family, the film presents the entire affair as a tragedy. The audience is meant to acknowledge the complexity of the situation and simultaneously sympathize with all of the characters. This emotional nuance carries over to the latter half of the film, which skips forward some twenty years. Not only is Carlitos now grown up, but another son named Miguel (Xavier Loya) has been born and has also reached adulthood. One day the family receives word that Julio has passed away and left his entire fortune to Miguel. While the elder Carlos chooses not to question the turn of events, Carlitos deduces that Julio must be Miguel’s father, seeing as they never even met. This leads to a confrontation with Rosario, which once again forces the audience to address the emotional complexity of the situation. While it is logical that Carlitos would be upset and jealous of Miguel, at no point in the film is this treatment of his mother validated. 

While on the surface A Woman Without Love is not as complex aesthetically or narratively as some of Buñuel’s other works, the emotional honesty and intelligence present in the narrative is a sure sign of the direction which his career would soon take. By taking the form of a Mexican melodrama and imbuing it with such honesty and integrity, even going so far as to interrogate the validity of certain aspects of Latin American culture itself, Buñuel is able to transcend the potential limitations of the genre while still remaining faithful to it. A Woman Without Love is a film that can be appreciated by cinephiles of all stripes, be they Buñuel nuts, lovers of the Classical Hollywood aesthetic, or Mexican melodrama enthusiasts. 

Get your copy of A Woman Without Love (1952) from Facets today! 

Author: T. J. Watson brings a background in film theory and criticism to Facets label releases. His main area of focus is on cult and exploitation films, as well as other genres traditionally seen as unworthy of attention.