La Mujer de Mi Hermano

The movie feels more like a thriller than a drama; it's paced like a thriller, building to a murder that never happens, exciting passions that are never unleashed, waiting for a crime to occur. The only crimes, however, are of the heart. Meanwhile, the movie knows exactly what it's doing, and does exactly what it intends, without making one false move.

The story's no great shakes here. However, the power of this film lies in the sexual tension boiling between the characters and that makes for a great date movie.

For all its gender-bending, La Mujer De Mi Hermano's primary appeal is Mori's stunning beauty.

The characters never come across as anything more than self-interested parties. It’s hard to have a rooting interest in any of their fates, and even less in the outcome of this movie.

Part of La Mujer's problem is its pace: Everything happens so slowly, and so meaningfully, that we see it coming for miles. Also, none of the three principals is remotely likable until the end.

An oddly unsexy melodrama in which every supposedly shocking revelation (rape, incest, homosexuality, pedophilia) is treated with the same blithe shrug of recognition. It's numbing, especially with the film's deadly serious mood.

Most of the movie's plot becomes obvious before you even meet the brother, 10 minutes into it. Even the sex scenes turn out to be tasteful and tame. You've seen hotter stuff on Oxygen.