Les maudites

The first and immediately successful feature film by Pedro Martín-Calero, who serves as the Director, Producer, and Screenwriter.

I should start by saying I hadn't heard or seen anything about this project, but for some reason, it immediately caught my attention. Perhaps it's all about the film's poster. Be that as it may, if you want to first get acquainted with what you're about to watch, I'd recommend only the text description. Photos and videos will contain many spoilers. Not to mention the trailer itself-it's one big spoiler. I only watched it before writing this text. It's good and conveys the atmosphere and mood of the film, but after watching it, the impression will definitely be spoiled, and you won't get those same emotions and experiences. And in this film, that's the main thing-unexpectedness, anxiety, and insane beauty.

The film is divided into 3 parts/stories. In each, the main role is played by a new girl.

Each story takes place in different time periods; to be precise, they are non-linear.

At first glance, they seem unrelated except for a shared sense of fear. Moreover, each part feels like a separate, self-contained short film. With its own style, imagery, and approach. To some extent, they resemble scary bedtime stories. Some are short and immediately frightening, while others stretch out and build tension throughout the entire narrative.

In the end, by the film's conclusion, everything will come together into a single, understandable puzzle, but unfortunately, without any answers to the questions that arose.

What's most disappointing isn't even the lack of answers, but the lack of an answer to the main question. Perhaps this is a setup for future installments where there will be more details and information. On the other hand, I have a theory that an answer isn't even needed. Much in our world exists without answers, and sometimes we simply cannot get an answer to a question for one reason or another.

So why are answers not as important as they seem?

The film so captivates your attention that I only realized by the end that there were no answers, but it didn't particularly upset me. Throughout the entire film, there was a feeling of lightness coupled with tension. An unusual mix of feelings that, surprisingly, you rarely experience watching a horror film. Especially one of this style.

Thanks to the three main heroines and their stories, there's no feeling of boredom or being drawn-out. Everything happens quickly and to the point. Without any "filler."

I also liked the acting. And not just the main roles.

Among the main characters, I particularly liked Malena Villa, who played the character Camila in the second of the three parts. She has a beautiful and vivid image, just like her colorful story in every sense.

An interesting observation.

The character Camila is studying film studies. In class, they are assigned to write scripts and shoot the material themselves. The story itself isn't that important, but I wanted to emphasize her profession. Because it's precisely in her story that the visuals become maximally cinematic and, in a way, even aesthetic.

We, the viewers, like Camila, have to observe and experience terrifying situations together. After all, like Camila, we observe many moments through the same lens. We have the same questions, but the scariest thing is that we already know the answers and can only be witnesses to everything happening.

This part has such vivid imagery, colors, scenes, and shots that at first you can hardly believe it's a continuation of the same film in the same genre.

The main plus of the film is that it is modern and genuinely frightening. All without any jump scares or sudden frightening moments. Everything is built solely on the story and atmosphere.

"Howl" is a prime example of how horror films can and should be made today. Even without answers, but with a well-crafted plot/story, quality visuals and sound, and good acting, you can still create quality pictures "like they used to."

Perhaps it won't scare you so much that you can't sleep, but it will definitely be memorable and leave you with an unsettling feeling afterwards.

The Wailing is a film that manages to unsettle without relying on grand theatrics. Its dense atmosphere and the way it blends supernatural horror with a deeply human story make it stand out in the landscape of Spanish cinema. It reminded me, in part, of The Entity, but here the focus shifts: instead of a mother, the protagonists are young women facing their own fears and traumas.

What captivated me the most is Martín-Calero's direction. Every shot is designed to create discomfort and tension, but without going overboard. The use of light, sounds, and silences plays a crucial role in maintaining that constant sense of unease. The lead actresses also shine, displaying a vulnerability that feels very real. They aren't flat or stereotypical characters; there's something in their eyes and gestures that makes you empathize with them.

Despite its strengths, the film isn't without its ups and downs. At times, the narrative seems to lose its way, as if trying to tackle more than it can handle, leaving certain aspects underdeveloped. This can create the feeling that some pieces don't quite fit, weakening the main storyline.

Even so, The Wailing leaves an impact. It's not just a simple supernatural horror tale; it's a film that speaks about pain and violence in a way that lingers. Beyond the scares, what truly stays with you is the discomfort of its underlying message, inviting reflection long after the credits have rolled.

Well not really, I am referring to the Netflix TV show Ester was starring in. I almost did not recognize her. Different hair - and while I wouldn't say she tried to downplay how pretty she is, I think most can agree that her character is not dressed in a fashion that would even resemble the hotness she was attributed in the show I mentioned or what the media made of it (her).

All that said, the movie is not just about her. Actually it is about ... well the movie can be seen and read in many different ways. There is a reason I made the It follows reference in the summary headline - no pun intended by the way in case you missed me writing it.

As much as the movie is able to conjure and really set a mood ... it also seems to try to break its own logic time and time again. The apartment being one of those things that do not seem to make sense (in the confined bubble and with the "world" it exists within that is of course).

Don't cry for me ... or wail for me that is ... unless you really are feeling it ... the effects are good and if you don't mind some of its messaging, the movie is able to unnerve and frighten you for sure .. just let if flow over you ... if possible.

El Llanto, a Spanish-Argentine film directed by Pedro Martín-Calero, is a work that manages to fascinate and frustrate at the same time. With an extremely intriguing premise and a sophisticated visual proposal, the film delivers a permanently oppressive, suffocating and disturbing atmosphere, where the discomfort grows with each scene. It is a psychological horror film that relies much more on latent tension than on conventional scares.

The construction of the setting is impeccable: dark scenes, intelligent use of cameras, screens, reflections and, above all, a sound design that masterfully incorporates the most striking element of the film - the constant, distressing and almost hypnotic crying that invades every space and every silence.

However, despite all this aesthetic and sensory strength, the development of the script proves to be far below what is necessary. The story simply does not explain itself. The connections between the characters and the events are poorly tied up, leaving holes, loose ends and a constant feeling that something is missing. The film builds up a huge expectation, but fails to deliver answers that are up to par, which directly compromises the viewer's emotional and rational connection.

The performances are competent, the tense atmosphere keeps the audience alert until the end, but the fragility of the narrative development undermines part of the experience. In the end, *El Llanto* is a film that haunts more for its atmosphere and the anguish it provokes than for the story it tells. And perhaps that is precisely where its greatest virtue and its greatest flaw lie.

A work that starts from an excellent premise, with an alarming atmosphere, suffocating tension and impeccable aesthetics, but which seriously fails due to the lack of narrative development, the absence of minimal explanations and for failing to transform its great idea into a truly complete experience. Even so, it captivates - and very much so - due to the constant uneasiness it provokes.

⭐ Rating: 6.5/10. How is that no possible: 7.0.

It could easily be 8/10 with a better-crafted script and a minimally satisfactory conclusion.

El llanto, the feature debut of Pedro Martín-Calero, is a psychological horror thriller that strays from genre conventions to immerse the viewer in an unsettling and fragmented experience. Co-written with Isabel Peña (a frequent collaborator of Rodrigo Sorogoyen), the film draws inspiration from Asian horror cinema, relying on an oppressive atmosphere and a nonlinear narrative structure that heightens the sense of mystery.

Divided into three distinct segments, the story follows Andrea (Ester Expósito), Marie (Mathilde Ollivier), and Camila (Malena Villa), three women who, in different times and places-present-day Madrid and 1990s La Plata-are haunted by an invisible presence that only they can perceive. This entity manifests itself through a chilling sound: a cry. As the film progresses, the puzzle pieces begin to fit together, suggesting that trauma and curses can transcend time.

From its striking opening scene in a nightclub, which employs strobe effects to create disorientation, El llanto establishes its eerie tone. The film's cinematography and sound design play a crucial role in immersing the audience, making atmosphere its greatest strength. It also cleverly incorporates technology as a bridge between the supernatural and the everyday, with on-screen text messages serving as a key tool for revealing what the human eye cannot see.

However, the film prioritizes mood over narrative clarity, which may frustrate viewers looking for a more conventional or closed-ended story. Certain moments can feel perplexing due to the lack of direct explanations, though this ambiguity also adds to its enigmatic nature.

Another intriguing element is the recurring presence of a building that seems to serve as the origin or portal for the entity stalking the protagonists. Its appearance in both cities suggests that this force transcends physical space, manifesting in different locations while maintaining a singular essence.

Ultimately, El llanto is an ambitious take on psychological horror, offering a visual and auditory experience that generates a constant sense of unease. While its structure and atmosphere-driven approach may not appeal to everyone, those willing to embrace its mystery will find it as haunting as it is captivating.