Victims of Sin (1951) User Reviews (6)

A corker of a "cabaretera"

[melvelvit-1 · 8/10 · 20 June 2011]

VICTIMS OF SIN is a corker of a "cabaretera", an indigenous Mexican genre that can best be described as "noir/musical/soap opera". This one's a mean street MADAME X with blonde Cuban fireball Ninon Sevilla as Violeta, a nightclub entertainer at the Changó, who rescues a newborn from the garbage can after it's thrown away by a co-worker. That girl was told by her pimp, Rodolfo, to choose either him or their baby and saving the infant causes Violeta no end of trouble. She gets fired, becomes a prostitute, gets her face scarred by Rololfo, sends him to prison, marries a rival nightclub's owner and shoots Rodolfo after he kills her husband and kidnaps the kid for his own nefarious purposes. Violeta goes to prison and her young "son" becomes a street urchin but don't worry, the movie's not over yet...

There's never a dull moment, that's for sure, with many mambos and a few songs, including one that would never have gotten past Hollywood censors at the time. Rudy Acosta, a familiar character actor from TV westerns ("High Chapparal") is sexy in a scary way (or visa versa) as Rodolfo and he does a mean jitterbug in his zoot suit. I believe he's a "pachuco" but I'm not sure. I prefer Ninon's previous AVENTURERA, myself, but this follow-up was directed by Emilio Fernandez, one of Mexico's premiere directors from its "Epoca de Oro" and it would make a great introduction for anyone unfamiliar with "Mexican Noir". The already indoctrinated are sure to enjoy it.

A very tough movie...

[planktonrules · 8/10 · 5 April 2015]

In many ways, this film reminds me of the Maxim Gorky play "The Lower Depths" combined with the weepy films about motherhood and sacrifice Hollywood was so fond of making in the 1920s and 30s--such as "Madam X" and "So Big". None of this is meant as criticism--just an attempt to categorize this Mexican film.

The story begins in a cantina in the seedy part of town. Before Violeta (Ninón Sevilla) goes on to sing for the crowd, she goes about this nightclub trying to get the other working girls there to help contribute. It seems that one of their own is about to give birth and her good for nothing pimp boyfriend wants nothing to do with the baby. After doing the right thing and helping the young mother, Violeta's efforts are rewarded by the mother tossing the baby in the garbage! Violeta, despite her circumstances, is a good sort and rescues the boy. She could take it to the orphanage, but that's much of a life for the kid, so she spends the next several years sacrificing for the boy she takes for her own. The rest of the story is often violent, sad and extremely, extremely sentimental.

The film is interesting because on one hand it's very old fashioned and a bit schmaltzy. But on the other, it's brutal in its realism and often pulls no punches. The overall effect is a film you can't help but admire and it's a wonderful portrait of someone who manages to both prostitute herself to stay alive yet somehow maintain her humanity. Well worth seeing.

Dancing Her Way To Redemption

[EdgarST · 10/10 · 29 September 1999]

«Víctimas del pecado» (Victims of Sin) is one of the most over-the- top melodramas ever made by Emilio "Indio" Fernández. The reason may be the presence of Cuban star Ninón Sevilla in the leading role, whose screen persona and religious faith permeate the story, the dance numbers, and even the tone of this genre film. It is one of the "películas de cabareteras" (cabaret dancer films) that were so popular in México. In these musical melodramas, brutish men seduced and abandoned young women who would become prostitutes, but for a chance of destiny they had the opportunity to become singers or dancers. This transcended the bleakness in their lives and transformed them into icons of female supremacy, even in the machista frame where the films were conceived. Ninón, a well-known santería practitioner in real life, and daughter of Changó in this Yoruba religion, plays Violeta, a strong-willed dancer-prostitute that works in the Cabaret Changó, where she performs sensual African dance numbers, and sings Panamanian songs like "La Cocaleca". It is clear that she would like to become a star and leave the seedy nightclub, but she gets into trouble with a pimp (Rodolfo Acosta, in outrageous pachuco outfits, swings on the dance floor, turns into violent fits of rage, and admonishes a prostitute in French!). He forces another woman to get rid of her newborn, but Ninón rescues the baby literally from the garbage can and decides to keep him to herself. She eventually gets help from Santiago (Víctor Junco), the owner of another nightclub who goes around town followed by a group of mariachis! Tragedy is a prerequisite in these films, so the story follows the usual pattern of fall and redemption; but Ninón's strong character gives other solutions to what suffering and tearful Dolores del Río or Columba Domínguez would do in the films by Fernández. She dances and sings for survival, she argues and fights in constant revolt against the cabaretera's destiny. «Víctimas del pecado» is a true joy, a real gem, with musical performances by Cuban superstar Rita Montaner, Mexican singer Pedro Vargas, and the real "mambo king", Pérez Prado. Call it camp if you will, but it is one of the outstanding pieces of the golden era of Mexican cinema and one of the best films by Indio Fernández.

Almost tops "Aventurera" -- But not quite!

[JohnHowardReid · 10/10 · 4 August 2009]

Immediately after "Aventurera", Ninon Sevilla was top-billed in "Victimas del pecado" (1950). Powerfully directed and co-written by Emilio Fernandez, here is a movie that almost tops its predecessor in noir ambiance and gritty effects. Particularly striking is the use of black smoke from passing trains to color Junco's cabaret which is literally located on the wrong side of the tracks. Our old friend, Rodolfo Acosta, gives his most chilling portrayal ever as the unscrupulous heavy whose flamboyant style is neatly contrasted by expressionless yet charismatic Tito Junco. Sevilla, of course, is once again in her element as the swirling dancer with a heart of gold, although Fernandez has obviously ensured that the musical numbers are more realistically presented. In fact, even the obligatory song by Pedro Vargas is better integrated into the narrative (even though introduced by an unlikely fanfare – what is Vargas doing in such a low dive? Slumming? And how come he brought his full orchestra with him?) and Vargas himself is much less stiff than usual. And, as might be expected, Figueroa's low-key photography is a stand-out, as are the gloriously cavernous, seedy sets designed by Manuel Fontanals. In the support cast, Rita Montaner is delightfully over-the-top (the sub-titles are rather bland compared to what she actually says), while Poncianito makes his shoeshine boy as solidly believable as Margarita Ceballos enacts her pitifully weak Rosa and Francisco Reiguera his squalidly hawkish yet often ineffective manager.

A Cabaretera's Heart of Gold

[nycritic · 10/10 · 13 September 2006]

VICTIMAS DEL PECADO (VICTIMS OF SIN) is a very Mexican melodrama that focuses on the position "marked women" have in the underbelly of society where pimps control what their women can or cannot do, and they entertain and are not allowed to have children inasmuch as be curvaceous fixtures that dance the night away. Ninon Sevilla, a dancer herself and an icon of the times, plays Violeta, a cabaret dancer at Cabaret Chango who witnesses one of her co-workers, Rosa (Margarita Ceballos), fall from grace when she winds up bearing the child of her pimp, Rodolfo (Rodolfo Ayala). Rodolfo faces Rosa with the tough decision to keep the child of stay with him. Rosa, completely co-dependent on Rodolfo, abandons her baby in a garbage can. Violeta, outraged, rescues it and becomes the baby's mother, which brings her a huge amount of trouble from the cabaret manager, who fires her, to Rodolfo himself, who gets into a violent altercation with her when he encounters her as a hooker working the streets. Fortunately for her, she gets a chance at redemption when she becomes the protégée and later wife of Santiago (Tito Junco), but not before Rodolfo walks back into her life.

This is a rather sordid story that Emilio "El Indio" Fernandez directed, one that has a good amount of melodrama without going overboard like many of the movies of its time -- notoriously Hollywood productions that featured strong-willed actresses playing equally larger-than-life heroines. Ninon Sevilla plays a character not too far removed from the likes of Bette Davis' character in MARKED WOMAN, even though Davis never got the chance to sing or dance due to major cultural differences and the fact that MARKED WOMAN was a movie produced under the heavy eye of the Hays Code, while VICTIMAS DEL PECADO was not. Sevilla's Violeta goes one step further than Davis' Mary Dwight: she is a tough-as-nails female who doesn't think twice to pounce on a man who would touch her the wrong way or pump his body with bullets at the outrage of having her life invaded, and her suffering in a women's prison is quite touching even when she doesn't overdo it. She has a strong but not overpowering presence throughout, which makes her character's plight more believable, balanced with her physicality which is erotic, but not overbearingly so -- closer to Violeta's reserved sensuality.

A strong melodrama from Mexico, one that allows Ninon Sevilla to twirl like Ann Miller (and show off that spectacular body). It has strong support from both Junco and Ayala, a cameo appearance by Pedro Vargas, and a particularly funny performance from Rita Montaner who has an outrageous scene where she chews out the cabaret manager after having sung a terrifically salacious song about a woman telling her man how to have sex with her the right way.

An Unexpected Pleasure, Crammed with Surprises

[museumofdave · 9/10 · 4 February 2022]

For people raised primarily on Hollywood films, particularly those from the 1950's on, this dazzling immersion in sin of all sorts may come as a surprise--in how many films, for instance, is a baby left unceremoniously in a garbage can on the street? And only Hitchcock, in Shadow of A Doubt, can created an ominous creepy feeling when a train chugging into the Santa Rose depot spreads an ominous black cloud over a group of relatives waiting for a beloved uncle? It happens here, with dazzling results during a shootout next to a cabaret on the fringes of town; all through the film the camera creates seedy worlds almost surreal, and places in them the lead, Ninon Sevilla, with even more energy to spare than Ann Miller, an actress whose life is a constant battle of survival for herself and an adopted son.

No use to relate the plot, the joys of revelation, and the heavy melodrama enriched with often shocking complexity. This film is great fun for the viewer interested in a special change in cinematic exposures.