As the sixth instalment in the popular Conjuring franchise (dubbed The Conjuring Universe), and following on from the box office success of The Nun (2018), La Llorona marks the directorial debut of Michael Chaves, who’s name will also be attached to the credits for The Conjuring 3. While it is admittedly lacking in originality, Michael Chaves offers an entertaining funhouse thriller – so long as he isn’t offering us to his titular evil entity.
The famous Mexican oral folktale ‘La Llorona’ (‘The Weeping Woman’) tells of a jilted woman left to raise her two sons, whom she promptly drowns in a river – an act of revenge, born from grief and rage as a result of her husbands cruelty, perhaps a kindred spirit of Medea. In tragic fashion, she realises what she has done, and drowns herself as well. For her actions, she is cursed to wander the Earth searching for her children, claiming others as her own, if they are unfortunate enough to hear her grieving tears…
“Children are told to behave, listen to their elders, or La Llorona will come and steal them away”
Father Perez makes a brief cameo, creating a vague connection to the Conjuring Universe
The origin of this crazed demonic entity is introduced to us at the beginning courtesy of a brief flash-back, in Mexico, 1673. Naturally, we time-skip 300 years later to 1973, Los Angeles – the perfect new haunting ground for Mexicos folklore antagonist. In LA, Caseworker Anna Tate-Garcia investigates the troubling truancy situation of her client Patricia’s two children, Tomas and Carlos. Clearly off to a good start. Thanks to her involvement in this investigation, a certain woman in white makes her unwanted acquaintance with Anna’s family, latching herself to Anna’s two children – her son Chris and younger daughter Sam. In typical fashion, we have a family of three and the sad backstory (only lightly touched upon) of their absent father: a policeman who presumably died on-duty. Curiously, an angle that doesn’t seem to have been explored is that all three mothers (Anna, Patricia, and the Weeping Woman) are widowed.
If this sounds familiar to supernatural horror fans, that’s because you’ve likely seen it before a number of times. The premise is like Mama (2013), and countless other supernatural flicks before it: ghost-mum is out seeking children to claim as her own, dressed in a spooky white gown who screams a lot and has awful hygiene. Her nails were black and in dire need of a trim, to say nothing of her teeth… I’d be more scared of her breath, than her scream. But despite finding it’s origins rooted in Mexican folklore, as a cinematic experience, The Curse of La Llorona doesn’t offer anything different or ‘new’ other films before haven’t already.
“No. But she was. Until her murderous vanity consumed her. She’s just a dark spirit. Unholy, forsaken by God”
Aren’t they all? Rafael to Anna
It is ultimately flawed by feeling too familiar and persisting on relying on old genre tropes, featuring an evil spirit that seems commonplace within the genre by now, and certainly within the franchise it’s part of. Regardless, before the climactic (or if you prefer ‘inevitable’) family vs. invading ghost pest, you’ll be witness to spooky kids in trances, broken lighting fixtures, a spectral woman in a white dress who cries black tears (a My Chemical Romance fan, perhaps?), and the unfair powers granted to the supernatural: the defiance of the laws of physics.
No, it isn’t the most original supernatural, cult horror feature to grace our pants, and no, it doesn’t do anything extraordinary with the genre. In comparison to similar films, the aforementioned Mama for instance, The Curse of La Llorona is enjoyable as a funhouse flick and plays out the genre tropes well enough, perhaps showing showing signs of self-awareness. But that’s just the thing that may turn some people away – especially critics, ever searching, like the Weeping Woman, for something to break the conventions.
“Watch the flames. A steady flame tells us that our protective charms are working”
Rafael Olvera and Chris
“Is she coming?”
“She’s already here”
Currently there is an abundance of horror films being released each month, on part because they can be made relatively cheaply, but also because they usually attract enough of a cult following to perform relatively well – and while this isn’t necessarily a detriment to their quality, when so many like-minded films release, it’s often the case that the majority of them are somewhat forgettable. The genre is plagued with an over-reliance on the same tropes, which become easy to predict, even when they are done ‘well’.
Despite it’s connection to the popular Conjuring series, La Llorona doesn’t seem to take many opportunities to develop this. It would have been interesting to see the writers explore the potential of the connected universe more: there is a moment where Father Perez makes an appearance and references the Annabelle case, but that is as far as it’s tenuous connection goes. Given the nature of the stories within the Conjuring Universe, La Llorona has missed an opportunity to present some greater implication within the franchise, rather than the addition of another screaming entity. In this regard, it is also a shame there aren’t many attempts to experiment with the genre, perhaps relying too heavily on it’s jump scares – and arguably on an audience expecting nothing less than a brief thrill.
Fortunately, despite this, with little more than a transparent umbrella, dingy hallways, cracked mirrors, and evidence of something more than merely poor electrical lighting, Michael Chaves shows he is certainly capable of setting the atmosphere, laying the ground work to build up to those jump-scares featuring a not-so-friendly neighbourhood ghost. While the screenplay itself might be somewhat lacklustre, it is Chaves’ directorial efforts that hold the piece together, maintaining the pace of the film, while the cast show their ability to convey the themes of personal loss and faith.
Linda Cardellini fulfils the trope role of the single mother, protecting her children from an evil entity, with Roman Christou and Jaynee-Lynne Kinchen as Chris and Sam, who each play their parts exceptionally well. Their reactions are consistent and each characters lines are likewise convincing. The family is joined by Raymond Crus, who comes to their rescue as ex-priest and notable badass Ghost Buster, Rafael Olvera – who must have been somewhat cynical as a priest, reassuring Anna’s children (and us) with mild comic effect that he ain’t afraid of no ghost. But our protagonists wouldn’t be in need of Rafael’s expert vanquishing skills, if not for Marisol Ramirez’s portrayal of the infamous titular ‘La Llorona’. In a way, she is reminiscent of another of the Conjuring’s villains: the Nun, also know as the demon Valak (it’s roots found in the Ars Goetia in the ‘Lesser Key of Solomon’). For the most part, she makes startling appearances out of nowhere: reflected in mirrors, hidden behind drapes, or skulking sinisterly about darkened hallways. Typical haunts for the spooky-minded.
The key to Michael Chaves’ atmospheric magic is his use of silence to create tension, before scenes creep into an eerie score, though despite this, the original soundtrack isn’t particularly exceptional. While it can play a key role in setting the atmosphere, it is largely ‘serviceable’ when brought to the forefront, falling very much on the cliché side. Although Joseph Bishara’s score does make effective use of genre tropes at times – with eerie, high pitch strings, falling into sudden crescendo as we edge closer and closer to the anticipated jump-scare – it will likely hold greater effect on less frequent horror viewers, or indeed newer Conjuring fans, especially when the aforementioned ‘anticipated jump-scare’ is delayed. To those who are like Rafael and have an intolerance to jump-scares, the score may fall flat, so to speak.
Abel Korzeniowski was similarly able to add a heightened sense of tension to scenes in The Nun that might have otherwise been weaker with another score – even if it did, again, rely on soundtrack tropes. ‘Corridor of Crosses’ echoed with a chanting that was fitting for the corrupted Church setting and hinted at an overall theme for the film. There is a theme in La Llorona, but it is less prominent than The Nun, preferring to utilise a quieter suspenseful style.
Your children, have they heard her crying? Have they felt the sting of her tears? They will. Soon”
Patricia Alvarez ominous threats…
To place The Curse of Llorona in context, the Conjuring Universe currently consists of two Conjuring films (with a third on its way), and a plethora of spin-offs, tied to events or artefacts of the main series. They include two Annabelle’s (a third due June 28th 2019), The Nun (with a potential sequel in the works), and at some point in the future, The Crooked Man. It’s a shared universe that looks to incorporate familiar scary folklore tales, told to scare children and keep them in-line. The Nun, the previous entry in the Conjuring franchise, did well in the box office (currently the franchises highest-grossing entry), but fell short for similar reasons, also finding praise in it’s atmosphere and cast.
While The Cure of La Llorona doesn’t necessarily take advantage of the connected universe it resides in, or more compellingly the folklore it borrows from, there is still something enjoyable to be found, if only for cheap thrills. That in itself is what will attract people the most: at it’s core, it’s a fun supernatural horror-thriller, not a genre defying trend-setter, more funhouse than arthouse like Hereditary (2018) or Suspiria (1977, remade 2018).
Certainly if you’re a fan of the genre, you won’t find anything different here, though it is likely you already realised that. If you’re looking for a twist on the tried-and-true formula, or perhaps looking for something to evolve the Conjuring franchise, you won’t find it here, and frankly this isn’t that kind of horror flick: go into the cinema expecting a cheap funhouse flick, and you might enjoy it better. Michael Chaves has been chosen to work on Conjuring 3 (due 2020), and as part of this universe, there’s always hope (well, in a fearful way, at least) that our new resident mumster could make her return… just listen out for her spectral tear drops. They’re oddly loud, even for a ghostly demonic entity.
