Alucarda

Alucarda is a 1977 Mexican horror film directed by the progressive and avant-garde filmmaker, Juan López Moctezuma, starring Claudio Brook, David Silva, and Tina Romero. This film combines elements of gothic horror, body horror, and period drama, woven intricately with otherworldly folklore. Overall, its atmosphere is noticeably macabre and unsettling and still sends shivers down the spine of audiences revisiting the film after four decades.

Alucarda is a visual exploration of the extremities of religious faith and youthful rebellion, served with a generous helping of surrealism, deemed subversive for the times it was released. The eponymous character Alucarda, portrayed by Tina Romero, is an enigmatic, misunderstood teenager living in a secluded convent. The film centers around the intense and passionate relationship between Alucarda and her fervent newcomer friend Justine, and the events that take place after they uncover an unspeakable evil dormant within the convent.

Claudio Brook, an acclaimed actor known for his roles in Luis Buñuel's films, plays two roles — the pious Father Lázaro and the strange hunchbacked gypsy — marking his versatility and adaptability as the character swings between right and wrong, reason, and faith. David Silva delivers a chilling performance as the cryptic Dr. Oszek, a science versus religion dichotomy embodied. His character brings an eeriness to the film, as he is dipped in logic and reason yet incapable of comprehending the chaos unfolding before his eyes.

While the narrative focuses primarily on youthful rebellion and the supernatural, Alucarda also delves into more intricate themes such as the battle between science and faith, repressed sexuality, and the parallels between demonic possession and mental illness. Though primarily a horror flick, the film operates on several levels, serving both as an atmospheric, gothic, supernatural creeper and a profound exploration of morbidity, faith, and human nature.

The cinematography by Rafael Corkidi is commendable for its contribution to the gloomy atmosphere of the film. The unnerving and eerie aesthetics of the film, coupled with the haunting organ score by Anthony Guefen, helps to generate a sense of dread which lingers long after the film has ended. Each frame is meticulously designed, with a stark contrast between celestial white and somber black, synchronizing perfectly with the themes of purity and evil that the film navigates.

Alucarda also draws on various folkloric and religious symbols to amplify the sense of terror, primarily focusing on the Judeo-Christian iconography. Juan López Moctezuma created an adjacency between the conventional notions of good and evil and twisted them in ways that leave the audience disrupted and disturbed, constantly questioning their understanding of these constructs.

One of the key aspects of Alucarda is its treatment of female agency, which is unusual for the horror films of the period. The female characters are far more complex and multi-dimensional, imbued with a sense of power and autonomy, albeit presented in a horrific, terrifying fashion. The film doesn't shy away from depicting the emotional turmoil, desires, and the unleashing of the repressed rage simmering within these young girls in a grotesquely expressive manner.

Though Alucarda has often been criticized for its excessive theatricality and its highly expressive performances, the film indeed showcases the director’s ability to create a palpable sense of dread and tension. This is a film that manages to transgress boundaries and redefine tropes to portray a macabre tale about fall, redemption, and the dire consequences of meddling with the unknown.

Alucarda is more than a typical horror film; it's a deep dive into a world of dark fantasies, brazen rebellion, and a harrowing exploration of faith and fanaticism. Though divisive and shocking in its presentation, it remains an unforgettable, challenging watch that never ceases to leave an imprint on the viewer. Drawing on elements of both horror and psychological drama, Alucarda is a unique and gripping addition to the horror genre and an example of independent Mexican cinema's ingenuity.