La Llorona

This film starts with a whisper. A small voice, whispering Spanish words. Then, there is an image: the face of a woman, filmed in close-up. It turns out she's praying. Very slowly, the camera zooms out. Walls come into view, and other persons. They're praying in a circle, holding hands. The whispering grows louder and louder.

This is a magnificent start of a film, and it's great moviemaking. I was immediately captured by the scene, and as a consequence by the whole movie. There are many other such great scenes, delictately filmed, with great intensity.

'La llorona', which is based on historical facts, shows the last episode in the life of an aging military dictator in Guatemala. He is convicted of genocide because of his cruelty towards the indigenous Maya population, but later acquitted. We see him in his sprawling mansion, which is permanently surrounded by an angry mob demanding justice for the numerous family members who have 'dissapeared'. Also in the house are his wife, his daughter and his granddaughter. When the family hires a young, beautiful and mysterious Maya girl as a servant, peculiar things start happening.

The film shows an important period in the Guatemalan history, but it is more than just a historical account. It also captures, in a very creative way, the dark forces that surround the general. It shows the dilemmas of the family members: do they remain loyal to their husband, father and grandfather, even when they slowly become convinced of his wrongdoing? It also highlights the social and cultural differences between the indigenous Maya and the Guatemalans of European descent. And, of course, it is a modern version of the legend of La llorona. Let's face it: that's quite a lot for one film.

The good thing is that all these different themes are not conflicting. They merge together, and the result is a very organic, beautifully filmed movie. For western audiences, a film about events from long ago in a tiny Latin American country may sound a bit off-putting. But seeing it is pure cinematographic joy.