La Llorona

After betraying her people to become the mistress of a malevolent Spanish conquistador, a Mexican woman finds herself reincarnated centuries later as the nanny of her lover's descendant and tries to right the wrong of her past by killing the child in her care.

An utterly slow-moving and barely-there Horror film doesn't have a whole lot going for it as it's a drama for the majority of the time and never gives itself off as a horror film until the last act, where she tries to kill off the child. This, though, is done in some of the most seemingly innocuous and utterly ridiculous manners possible, never laying a hand on the child but persuading the child to put itself in danger only to be luckily saved each time. While it may work the first few times, after the fifth save from the harrowing death, it just grows tiresome and really works against itself, especially the ludicrous manners she tries to accomplish it under but also because each one doesn't work through her inactivity in killing the child, effectively killing most of it's suspense. That this is the only reason why it gives itself off as a horror film makes this one terribly boring and hardly worthwhile.

Today's Rating-Unrated/PG: Mild Violence and children-in-jeopardy.

This is a literal retelling of the Crying Woman legend, present in many Latin American countries, a symbol of the native woman who "betrayed" her people by becoming the mistress of a conquistador, and also of the "bad mother" -in this case, a VERY bad mother, "a la Medea"- who kills the children she had with her Spanish lover. Taking parts from Carmen Toscano's stage play, the film is set in contemporary México, but goes back a few centuries to tell Llorona's sad story. She is now the nanny of the grandson of a descendant of those who punished her, and plans to kill the kid. One curious detail (typical of Mexican horror films): the part of the little boy, Jorgito, is played by a girl. María Elena Marqués leads a cast of distinguished performers.

Generally considered the definitive screen version of the oft-filmed legend. Once again she does remarkably little crying, but at least in this telling she makes a much scarier noise and the film also dispenses with the bizarre digressions of the first version and makes dramatic use of locations.

But what really gives it the edge is the extraordinary presence of Maria Elena Marques reincarnated as a black-clad nanny in black with incredible eyebrows combining the craziness of Bette Davis in the title role of 'The Nanny" (who had an equally weird scene bathing her young charge in the Hammer production) with the elegant menace and craziness of Billie Whitelaw in 'The Omen'