«Evil Eye» - Movie Review by Kinoafisha

The fatigue of American repetitive horror films has set in. Working with standard formulas is convenient, cheap, and will always find an audience. Therefore, the discerning viewer (and initially, the film distributor) logically starts looking towards other countries. Where else, just like in Yakutia, has some national uniqueness been preserved that will seep into the film, even if it was made with the aim of international distribution? For those seekers, we first inform you: don't pay attention to the banal, albeit quite accurate, title "Mal de ojo". The original "The Evil Eye" also wouldn't give you much of a hint. Watch the film right away. After all, it is a significant, albeit not brilliant, success in today's horror market. Although, is it even horror?

13-year-old Nala and her little sick sister are brought to their grandmother's estate. The pretext is simple: their parents need to go for an interview regarding experimental treatment for their youngest daughter, and it's better for the children to stay with their grandma. She is an impressive and extremely suspicious woman: harsh, authoritative, and behaving strangely. And if you consider that her young housemaid tells the girls a bedtime story about sisters who killed a local witch many years ago, it's logical that Nala starts suspecting anything mystical. It's just a matter of figuring out what is a dream and what is reality.

"Mal de ojo" is a solid example of Mexican national horror. The maid, Abigail, warns the girls: in Mexico, for some reason, almost all fairy tales are scary. And this is the most accurate genre designation of what the viewer is watching: it's scary. All the jump scares are predictable, but it's because that's what the director wants. He gradually prepares the audience for the appearance of his monster and the development of further events. So, everything that may look horrifying is only so momentarily - and that's because we don't know one hundred percent what we will see. Well, how do all those Mexican creatures look? Or rather, Caribbean ones.

At the heart of the plot lies Caribbean folklore, which has, of course, undergone changes over time, thanks to the screenwriters who needed to modernize this ancient legend of the luguru - a blood-sucking witch who sheds her skin at night, hides it in a vessel, and beneath that skin hides wings. And so, she flies and feeds on blood, essentially from all layers of the human population. The screenwriters of "Mal de ojo," including the director himself, Isaac Esban, have given this legend structure and a logical explanation for all this bloodshed, while preserving important authentic elements. So, do not expect the luguru to behave like a typical and predictable European vampire.

By the way, Esban, though an unknown author in Russia, is a favorite of many festivals for his experiments in the horror and science fiction genres, based on the idea of parallel universes. He either works with folklore or tries to transport characters into an alternate reality to solve their problems. And if you know this, it becomes easier to watch "Mal de ojo." Nala, portrayed by the textured and interesting actress Paola Miguel, finds herself in a typical wealthy Mexican home, as if transported to another world that, at the very least, needs to wean her off demanding round-the-clock internet access from anywhere on the globe. At most, it will reveal the truth of her own origins. And as an average result, it gives her the opportunity to go through a journey of becoming an adult. After all, capriciousness and egocentrism are often associated with childish behavior, while self-sacrifice and a readiness to independently explore the new are associated with maturity.

Esban is also called the heir to Guillermo del Toro, and there are logical explanations for this as well. Guillermo became famous for his love of hands-on work on set: all his sets are real, and all his monsters are molded by the hands of makeup artists and played by the bodies of actors. They scare and simultaneously diminish fear with their tangibility. But what if shooting in Mexico is simply cheaper than commissioning complex, realistic graphics? That's why in Esban's post-production, the strings have been erased somewhere, and they helped the witch shed her skin. But otherwise, it's pure craft.

It was important to place a grandmother in these enchanting sets who they would not be able to overshadow, but only adorn. And Esban makes the right move, which may not be apparent to the Russian viewer. But it's impossible to remain indifferent to the old Josefina. She is played by the 72-year-old actress Ofelia Medina. Theoretically, you could have seen her in "The Mosquito Coast" and "Colombiana." But "Mal de ojo" is a pure showcase for a very famous Mexican actress whom we, due to our cinematic ignorance, do not know. A beautiful woman is not afraid to be quirky, changes her appearance in a second with just her eyes, and her smile is perhaps the scariest thing in this film. And if you think that the character she portrays is exaggerated, then once again remember that you are watching a fairy tale. And it's clear that the goal was not to play "real life" in front of Medina.

There is nothing ordinary here. "Mal de ojo" does not attempt to integrate the mystical into real life. Rather, it beckons viewers back to their roots. And in its enchanting, colorful, slightly frightening form, it invites each viewer to ask themselves: are you sure there wasn't a witch lurking among your ancestors?