Huesera

"Huesera" begins with "Valeria" dropping off flowers at the base of the Virgen Monumental de Ocuilan and ends right after she participates in a restorative, native rite. In between, we find out that Valeria is a former punk-rocker with a love of bass guitars, power tools and a certain "Octavia." What is she in the present?

That is the central question is this rather well-done entry. The Valeria of the present is a woman who has (uneasily) embraced a conventional marriage to "Raul," an ad exec with wealthy parents. She lives in an upscale apartment, and she is pregnant with their first child. Yet as time passes, she appears to be the victim of increasingly violent hallucinatory episodes that lead her family and husband to grow both concerned for and irritated with her. "Pull it together," is the implied mantra; "a child is a blessing."

While the obvious comparison is to "Rosemary's Baby," the film - to its credit- veers more in the direction of such psychological thriller/horror films as Altman's "Images." And despite a fairly large cast, this movie really is about a single woman's POV - Valeria (played here by Natalia Solián) - and it is her world -- her frustrations, her fears, her sense of ambiguity, rejection and pain -- that are front and center for the duration of the film. Her attempts to negotiate the expectations of others -- often cruelly rejected by those others -- lead her to an increased debilitation that almost result in absolute tragedy. It is her (similarly outcast) aunt who helps her on her way to a restoration of self.

The film is a definite slow burn. But if you enjoy a more overtly psychological exploration of a woman-at-the-margins, torn between seemingly opposing social contexts, this might work for you.

Despite some cool horror scenes, Huesera is a boring, slow-paced drama that doesn't really go anywhere, nor does it leave any sort of message.

In the film there is the subplot of the main character and her gay relationship with her best friend, which is used as an excuse that she has a second identity, but this relationship never really comes to anything relevant, and neither does her relationship with her husband to be honest. It is simply the typical dose of mandatory forced inclusion these days.

Also many of the decisions and actions of the characters (especially some very important ones) are quite questionable, not to say stupid, and it is impossible not to cringe at the protagonist every time. Not to mention that the acting, especially of the main characters, is quite mediocre. It seems that in order not to include any caucasian characters (because there are no caucasians in Mexico, of course) they chose any actor they could find.

In itself a boring movie as a drama, and dull as a horror, Huesera fails twice as much.

Huesera, the directorial debut of Mexican filmmaker Michelle Garza Cervera, presents itself as a film exploring the desire to be a mother and the consequences of having a child, all within a horror premise. However, the result is a movie that, although ambitious, leaves much to be desired.

One of the standout elements is undoubtedly Natalia Solián's performance. Her acting effectively conveys the nerves, fears, and trauma of being a first-time mother. Solián grabs the viewer's attention by making every emotion and doubt of her character feel genuine. The issue, however, is that the script and narrative don't support her.

The biggest problem with Huesera lies in its pacing and storytelling. The film becomes boring and tedious at several points, especially when it delves into areas where horror should be at the forefront but isn't. The lack of a consistent atmosphere of fear causes the film to lose its focus. The horror elements are missing, which leads to the film losing the tone it initially promised.

The script, on the other hand, is another weak point. The story feels incomplete, with many narrative gaps. There are moments where it seems material was cut during post-production, leaving unanswered questions and unexplained events. This affects the coherence of the plot.

Boring and irritating are the words that can resume this movie perfectly.

Maybe my disappointment came from the high expectation I had with this one. Anyway, it is what it is.

All characters are unpleasant, even the children. The pace, the bad choice of giving the viewer information drop to drop just to make the length longer... I barely endured it - I needed to pause three times to check how long left to finish.

The main problem is that the film had big ambitions but failed to achieve them. It focuses a lot on symbolism but, in the end, leaves so many elements loose here and there that the message arrived with noise, interfering with the understanding.

Not to mention the quality of a big part of the production. Frankly, some scenes seem to be picked off some unfunny comic sketch.

In 1929, Virginia Woolf argued that centuries of calcified gender roles and financial disparity had prevented women from realizing their true potential. To become whole, she thought they needed agency, control over their own lives that she expressed in the idea of "a room of her own."

For Woolf, that room was her own writing garret in a house she shared with her husband. For Valeria, the heroine of this movie, it is the craft room in the apartment she shares with her husband, Raul. That room is where she makes the furniture she sells for a living.

Valeria's room is the first thing she has to give up when she becomes pregnant. The next is apparently anything she is entitled to say or think about her own body, which is what we see as her husband and family decide what is best for her without even acknowledging that she is in the room. And so develops the theme of the movie.

Not all women want children. They may love them and want what is best for them, but they know that they don't what to take care of them. They also may not be attracted to or want to love a man.

The idea of being voluntarily childless and with another is hard enough in the US, but almost impossible in a place like Mexico where gender roles are more deeply defined. Valeria CAN'T be the woman Raul and her family want her to be, even if she wants to be. Her struggle to please them makes her feel like her very bones are breaking.

This movie uses the Mexican legend of "La Huesera" to tell women to embrace who they are. La Huesera is a spirit who collects wolf bones. When she has enough bones, she calls the wolf's spirit to come back to inhibit them. When the wolf does, they both run free.

In this movie, Valeria has to make hard choices to run free. But she does.

The movie isn't a horror movie. It's a parable about accepting yourself as you are, no matter what the cost is.