If we put a handful of topics, 300 grams of common places, two or three precooked characters in a blender and crushed them at low revolutions for ten seconds, we would obtain a porridge with fewer lumps than the second feature film by Albert Pintó, which, to top it all, loads with the suspicion of exploiting the gap that Paco Plaza opened with ‘Verónica’ and her classic horror mashup with traditional touches. But what in the work of the director of ‘REC’ were indications and veiled tributes here is materialized in blushing appropriations of key scenes of the contemporary horror imaginary: the ball of ‘At the end of the stairs’, the television of ‘Poltergeist’ or the scares cooked in ‘postpo’ under the influence of ‘The exorcist’; they pile up until they completely strangle the possibility that Pintó could refine this rude short-stick exercise by giving it some nuance.
The color grading of the photo does not help to create a climate that does not refer to ‘Cuéntame’ and other television bulletins where the color of the images of Spain in the 70s is always the same. Pintó joins forces with Bárbara Vargas to rescue some scenes of intimate horror, but when Concha Velasco -ghostbusters- enters the scene, the film enters a spiral of nonsense that culminates with some credits in which a rap by Nita Fuel Fandango and El Chojin.
España. 2020. 105 m. (12). Terror.
Begoña Vargas, Iván Marcos, Bea Segura.