The Curse of La Llorona review: An unhinged horror that borrows shamelessly from The Exorcist

There are enough bloodcurdling moments here to make you cower, but the mechanics are rusty

Dir: Michael Chaves. Starring: Linda Cardellini, Patricia Velasquez, Raymond Cruz, Tony Amendola, John Marshall Jones. 15 cert, 93 mins

A demented harpy in a bridal dress puts a single mum and her two kids through the wringer in The Curse of La Llorona, the latest Grand Guignol horror picture from the makers of The Conjuring and Insidious. In spite of the absurdity of the plot and the flimsiness of the concept, there are enough bloodcurdling moments here to make you cower, jump or hide beneath your seat at least once or twice. Whenever anyone has their back turned, the “weeping woman” will suddenly shoot into frame. We see her in mirrors, through car windows or in doorways. She is a force of pure, abstract malevolence.

In order to explain where this wicked bride comes from, the filmmakers throw in a confusing introduction, which takes us back to Mexico in 1673. A beautiful woman wearing a necklace, which she swears she will keep forever, is shown drowning her own children. Her reasons for doing so aren’t revealed until later on in the movie. Instead, the story leaps forward 300 years to Los Angeles in 1973.

Linda Cardellini (Laura Barton in Avengers: Endgame) plays widowed social worker Anna Tate-Garcia. The doughty Cardellini brings a commitment and depth to her role that a film as sketchy as this barely deserves. She quickly establishes that her character is grief-stricken (she is still mourning her policeman husband), ambitious in her career and utterly dedicated to her children, Chris and Sam. When evil comes calling, her first reaction is to pick up the family baseball bat.

In most horror films like this, audiences will generally have to wait to be terrorised. The Curse of La Llorona dispenses with the preliminary formalities. We briefly see Anna and the children rushing for the school bus and there is one scene where she is told off by her boss for being distracted and late for work. Anna refuses to let her younger colleague take over her cases. She insists on visiting one particularly troubled client, Patricia Alvarez, and her two sons. The moment she arrives at Patricia’s house, the shock tactics begin in earnest – and they don’t let up until the final credits.

Director Michael Chaves and his screenwriters Mikki Daughtry and Tobias Iaconis borrow shamelessly from The Exorcist, The Devil Rides Out and other horror pictures. Again and again in the film, protagonists are told not to open doors – advice that they will always find some excuse to disregard.

Early on, it is hinted that neither Patricia nor Anna are fit mothers. They are both so traumatised by events in their private lives that they are somehow summoning up the evil bride themselves and inflicting physical scars and mental damage on their children. This, though, is not a psychological horror film. Chaves and his team are far more interested in staging as many jolting set-pieces as possible than in probing too deeply into the motivations and emotions of the two mums.

Occasionally, the film seems very absurd indeed. For example, when the locals start “smudging” to rid themselves of negativity and evil thoughts, or when they use hens’ eggs to diagnose the presence of evil. However, it is stylishly and fluidly shot by cinematographer Michael Burgess. There is one tremendous scene in which the weeping woman is seen through the plastic of a translucent umbrella. As one might expect, the soundtrack is full of scratching and screeching. The silent moments are the worst. As soon as it goes quiet, we know that La Llorona is bound to loom out of the darkness at any moment.

Sure enough, there is a sympathetic lapsed priest ready to confront the wicked lady. He has all the expected tools of the trade – phials of her tears to use as anti-venom, crucifixes and lots of seeds to which the devil woman is seemingly allergic.

The storytelling gradually becomes more and more unhinged. At least one prominent character is simply forgotten in the din and confusion of the final reel. It is never satisfactorily explained why La Llorona, like Miss Havisham, insists on wearing her wedding dress, or how terrorising other mothers’ children will help her get over the loss of her own. As in one of those haunted house fairground rides, it’s best simply to appreciate the ghoulish trick effects here and not to peer too closely at the rusty mechanics behind them.