Review by Ben Bussey
Mention the name Adrián García Bogliano, and those who don’t reply “who’s he” will probably all be able to tell you one thing: this is a filmmaker who draws a very fine line between sex and horror. Even if you’ve never seen Penumbra, the image of leading lady Cristina Brondo bound and gagged with her shirt torn open and her torso smothered in lubricant is one of those “once seen, never forgotten” things. Yes, the fact that I’m a straight male might play some part in that, admittedly; and those with similar inclinations to my own will doubtless find their attention grabbed right away by the opening scene of Here Comes the Devil, which immediately establishes a similar blend of eroticism and terror, with an edge of nightmarish surrealism. But once the narrative really kicks in, this is a film that cuts a lot closer to the bone than your average boobs, blood and beasts flick.
The narrative centres on a textbook nuclear family: wife Sol (Laura Caro), husband Felix (Francisco Barreiro), and their children Sara and Adolfo (Michele Garcia and Alan Martinez). Whilst on a day out in walking in the hills, Sara has that special moment that every pubescent girl looks forward to I’ve no doubt (yes, that’s sarcasm), as a bloodstain on her jeans marks her ascent into womanhood. After they get her cleaned up in the car park toilet – or, if you prefer, the parking lot bathroom – she and her younger brother ask to be allowed to go back up the hill for a walk. Sol and Felix let them go, eager for a little alone time of their own, even if it’s right there in the car. However, just as the husband and wife are getting a bit freaky in the front seat, the brother and sister are heading up the hill and into a small, dark, yet strangely inviting cave; and once they’ve been inside, they won’t be quite the same when they come back out. If that sounds a bit Freudian, I rather doubt that’s an accident.
Here Comes the Devil is yet another classic case of a film that’s really tricky to review, as giving away anything is giving away too much. I’m reticent to even imply what horror subgenre/s the film might belong to, or suggest what the title might mean. The long and short of it is, I went into the movie pretty well blind, found myself unable to predict how things would progress, and was taken by surprise more than once. That, I find, is a pretty rare occurrence these days; subsequently, I would of course recommend seeing the film under the same conditions of relative ignorance if at all possible.
This much I will make clear, though: as you might suspect based on what little I’ve given away thus far, Here Comes the Devil’s exploration of sex and horror does broach that particularly sensitive area, the loss of innocence. Rest assured though, this is not another Serbian Film. While there are a number of sex scenes (all involving consenting adults), this is not a film that’s anxious to shock and appal the viewer. While questions of sex involving children do come up, nothing explicit pertaining to this is shown onscreen; and as the narrative progresses, so to does our interpretation of whatever it is that’s really going on here. One possible problem is that some viewers may feel that Sol and Felix react somewhat irrationally to the alarming circumstances they find themselves in. However, this is not a film that deals with the rational and the everyday; when faced with the unthinkable, often we respond in a less than logical manner. And as I’m sure most parents will testify, sometimes we just don’t know how to talk to our children about difficult things – especially when they’re things we don’t understand ourselves.
Here Comes the Devil is also a very accomplished film on a technical level. It looks great and is well edited, with only a smattering of stylistic flourishes here and there; occasional zooms utilised to jarring effect. Most importantly, the writing and acting are for the most part exemplary. Laura Caro and Francisco Barreiro absolutely convince as a thirtysomething couple struggling through a scenario all parents dread, on top of dealing with the more standard early-midlife marital tensions. Michele Garcia and Alan Martinez are also brilliant as the detached, inexpressive, emotionally distant children, leaving us constantly guessing as to just what has become of them. There are also some admirable supporting performances, including Barbara Perrin Rivemar as a babysitter who gets more than she bargained for.
I could say more, but I’d really rather not; once again, Here Comes the Devil is a film you’re better off knowing little about going in. Suffice to say, it is by turns sexy, intriguing, unnerving and haunting, taking unexpected turns without going into corny, M Night Shyamalan twist territory. This is is pretty compelling stuff, and you would do well to check it out.
Here Comes the Devil comes to Region 2 DVD on 16th September, from Metrodome.