
<p>Having lived in Argentina for a while, I can say with confidence that the country has a distinct sense of humor. I’ve seen dozens of live comedic performances and <em>Revistas</em> — theatrical shows unique to Argentina — as well as Argentine television series and films. Through all of these different formats, there is always one identifying element: <em>sex</em>. This is perhaps best exemplified in Hugo Sofovich’s <strong><em>Amante Para Dos</em> (1981)</strong>, or “A Lover For Two.”</p>



<p>The story follows the hijinks of two businessmen, Alberto (Alberto Olmedo) and Mauricio (Tato Bores). They find themselves caught up in a love triangle with the beautiful vedette, Mónica Méndez (Moria Casán). Both men want to be with Mónica, but she only cares about their money. Ideally, she wants to lock one of them down as a husband. </p>



<p>To complicate matters, both men have wives and must keep their various liaisons hidden. In addition to their primary love triangle, each man has their own separate trists. Alberto makes a habit of sleeping with the beautiful blonde who lives in the same apartment building. His wife, Betina (Estela Molly) almost catches him on several occasions, but this doesn’t dissuade him.</p>



<p>Meanwhile, Alberto and Mauricio try to maintain casual relationships with some of the women under their employ. The two employees who occasionally give in to their advances are Silvia (Valeria Pani) and Gladys (Luisa Albinoni). As one can imagine, these love affairs become increasingly complicated, putting their marriages and business at risk. </p>



<p>Though Moria Casán’s character serves as the titular “amante” (lover) shared by both men, the story ventures off into a number of subplots. Most of these stories involve infidelity and — of course — the objectification of women. The 1960s, 70s, and 80s stood as the height of “vedette culture” in Argentina. At the time, theaters and movie screens featured half-naked women in dozens of <a href="https://philosophyinfilm.com/2017/04/09/metzgers-women-gender-representations-and-visual-abstraction-in-60s-sexploitation/">low-budget sexploitation films</a>. So, in a sense, <em>Amante para dos</em> is nothing out of the ordinary.</p>



<p>Though the time for films like <em>Amante para dos</em> has passed, they can still be enjoyed in their own right. Like many films from decades past, they serve as a kind of time capsule and cultural artifact. While Argentina’s obsession with sex has not gone anywhere, the role of women in mainstream media has changed.</p>



<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-large"><img src="https://philosophyinfilm.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/mqdefault-1024x602.jpg" alt="Amante para dos (1981) Valeria Pani" class="wp-image-2096"/><figcaption>Alberto Olmedo and Valeria Pani in <em>Amante para dos</em> (1981)</figcaption></figure></div>



<p>In fact, some of the most successful figures in the country are women. Former vedettes like Susana Giménez and Moria Casán have their own television programs. Meanwhile, Argentina’s most beloved television personality, Mirtha Legrand, has been on air for more than half a century. So, while <em>Amante para dos</em> may not fit the ongoing feminist movement of modern Argentina, it still highlights how some of today’s most revered female personalities rose to prominence. If you <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5OCRcqJ9yg">watch one sequence closely</a>, you can even see a young Carmen Barbieri as one of Moria’s backup dancers. </p>



<p>That said, like many slapstick comedies of the era, <em>Amante para dos</em> finds many ways to be offensive and obtuse. Bosses feel up their female employees whenever they get a chance, while husbands cheat on their wives without any remorse. All of these plot elements are used for comedic effect. </p>



<p>It doesn’t take a feminist scholar to see that the film shows a complete lack of respect for women. Moreover, the film dedicates entire segments to the objectification of the female body. In one scene, an unnamed dancer undresses for an audience until she is completely nude. Though it’s apparent that it’s part of a “dinner and a show” performance, no other context is given. It’s just a naked woman displayed for the sake of satisfying the male gaze.</p>



<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-large"><img src="https://philosophyinfilm.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Screen-Shot-2020-09-10-at-2.19.35-PM-1024x696.png" alt="Moria Casan pelicula" class="wp-image-2097"/><figcaption>Moria Casán and Tato Bores in <em>Amante para dos</em> (1981)</figcaption></figure></div>



<p>Even if you can look past the offensive elements, it’s hard to ignore the low production value. A military dictatorship ruled Argentina during the time of <em>Amante para dos</em>, which may have affected its budget and narrative. At the time, the ruling government would review and demand edits to films that did not align with its moral and political vision. Perhaps in its original form, <em>Amante para dos</em> did not live up to those standards.</p>



<p>So, it may not be completely fair to judge <em>Amante para dos</em> for its low visual quality and narrative inconsistencies. Nonetheless, they are hard to ignore. Though the film revolves around beautiful women and their bodies, <em>Amante para dos</em> is simply ugly to look at. A bad mixture of tan and brown make up the color scheme, with a few bright colors thrown in from time to time. The video quality also looks shaky at best.</p>



<p>The editing is equally terrible. Sometimes, dialogue cuts off mid-sentence as the story moves on to something unrelated. It looks more like an old student film than a production that would reach movie theaters across the country. In short, <em>Amante para dos</em> looks as though it was made on a shoe-string budget with amateur filmmaking techniques.</p>



<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-large"><img src="https://philosophyinfilm.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Screen-Shot-2020-09-10-at-2.23.17-PM-1024x683.png" alt="Amante para dos (1981) luisa Albinoni" class="wp-image-2098"/><figcaption>Luisa Albinoni and Alberto Omedo in <em>Amante para dos</em> (1981) </figcaption></figure></div>



<p>Finally, we have the story. It seems as though the filmmakers couldn’t decide which plot thread they wanted to follow, so they just through everything together in the hopes of creating the most laughs. While this does lead the two main characters into a series of bizarre and “comedic” situations, it doesn’t give the film any sense of narrative flow or direction. </p>



<p>Instead, we move from one seemingly random scene to the next. Occasionally, Moria’s character comes out, bringing the primary plot thread back into play, but it feels like she&#8217;s more of an afterthought, when she should be the main focus. Again, perhaps the ruling regime forced the filmmakers to make last-minute edits. However, it could just be poor filmmaking practice.</p>



<p>To wrap things up, I’d like to say that <em>Amante para dos</em> (1981) is a fun movie to watch if you’re a fan of Argentine cinema and you already know some of the main players. It’s laughably bad and misogynistic at times. However, this serves as more of a historic footnote than outright criticism. <em>Amante para dos</em> provides a glimpse into a past in which men always treated women as disposable objects. That said, if you’re unfamiliar with some of the main actors and aren&#8217;t accustomed to old-school Argentine humor, you should probably avoid this one.</p>



<h3 class="wp-block-heading"><em>Amante para dos</em> Movie Rating: ★★½ out of 5</h3>



<p>If you’d like to watch<strong> <em>Amante para dos</em> (1981)</strong>, the film is currently available to watch online for free via <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj4fiRYu8gs">Youtube</a> (without English subtitles). For more film reviews like this one, consult the <a href="https://philosophyinfilm.com/">Philosophy in Film Homepage</a>!</p>

Review: Amante para dos (1981), an Argentine Romantic Comedy ★★½
