Muy flojo debut de Cuarón. Lo peor de todo el guión y la protagonista.
The buzz arising from Alfonso Cuarón's Y Tu Mamá También, his franchise-high-water work with Harry Potter, and the upcoming Children of Men has apparently been loud enough to pull his first, 15-year-old Mexican feature to the U.S.-distribution surface. Sometimes the culture's natural selection is on the money the first time around—Sólo Con Tu Pareja (Love in the Time of Hysteria, 1991) is a tame yet over-the-top screwball romance centering on a helpless womanizer (Daniel Giménez Cacho) who gets caught bouncing between sex with two women, in two apartments. Their revenge includes a falsified AIDS test, just as our hero fixates on yet another woman who he believes will save him from his sorry ways. Pushing the dull Cacho as a chick magnet capable of opening any pair of legs suggests that Cuarón's respect for women has gained serious ground since he was 29. The film is more stale than crisp, with dialogue that is at least 50 percent old aphorisms, homilies, and clichés. The frankness and sophistication of Y Tu Mamá were, it seems, hard earned.
Like “Y Tu Mamá También,” “Sólo Con Tu Pareja” — literally, “Only With Your Partner” — is a rambunctious sex comedy shadowed by mortality. Tomás is hardly a smooth-talking lady-killer; rather, he uses a combination of boyish sweetness and neurotic, puppylike eagerness as his main tools of seduction. He is a little too successful, enticing a nurse (Dobrina Liubomirova) into his bed while his randy boss, Gloria (Isabel Benet), is waiting for him across the hall. Tomás has lured her into the apartment he has borrowed from a friend, Mateo (Luis de Icaza). As Tomás races back and forth along the window ledge, the movie has the breezy insouciance of a classic bedroom farce. But the lighthearted mood is disrupted by the possibility of true love — incarnated in a new neighbor (Claudia Ramírez), who lives between Tomás and Mateo and who has a fiancé — and also by the specter of death. The nurse, feeling spurned and neglected, plays a cruel prank on Tomás, altering blood test results to suggest that he is H.I.V.-positive. This leads to some anguished soul-searching and also, rather improbably, to a madcap chase that ends on the observation deck of the Latin American Tower, Mexico City’s answer to the Empire State Building. Mr. Cuarón never quite finds the tone that would allow him to fuse belly laughs with the horror of illness and death, but then perhaps Pedro Almodóvar is the only filmmaker able to mix darkness and light in that way. Still it is hard not to admire the younger man’s cheeky self-confidence, and hard not to enjoy the dexterity of his camera movements and the flair with which he attempts both low comedy and high melodrama. The promise he showed in “Sólo Con Tu Pareja” has already been realized and exceeded, but there is something gratifying about witnessing such talent in its fledgling state.