Every so often comes a movie that clearly belongs in one genre, but takes a left turn or two and plants the said genre on its head. The year prior to when this film came out was privy to one of the best psychosexual thrillers not only of the year, but the entire decade: THE CRYING GAME. The following year, an obscure movie that came out of the Basque region of Spain was released unto audiences. With a title as dubious but more explicit than Neil Jordan's classic movie, LA MADRE MUERTA (THE DEAD MOTHER) came out of nowhere and created a ruckus of the likes that hadn't been seen since Pedro Almodovar's masterpiece MUJERES AL BORDE DE UN ATAQUE DE NERVIOS (WOMEN ON THE VERGE OF A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN). We, who saw it then, were floored by the way the story took some risky material and pushed the envelope to truly dark degrees.
Twelve years later, the story still holds: a man breaks into an antique gallery looking for something. A woman awakens, and before she can complete her sentence: "We have no money," she is shot dead. However, there is an added detail: a little girl -- the now dead mother's daughter (ergo the film's title). We see her only from her feet, approaching the dead mother's body. Then we cut to the burglar as he is about to make his escape. He suddenly wheels around, sees the girl holding what seems to be a baseball bat, her eyes angry and accusing. We see he is pointing his gun to her head. Certainly the audience will think, "Oh... he won't shoot, will he? She's just a little girl... what harm can she do to him?" Well... before anyone can think twice, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot bangs out, and we begin the movie proper.
Years later, Leire, the girl who received the fatal shot in the head that left her brain damaged, is now living in an asylum. With the intelligence of an infant, the Director of the mental ward and the young woman, Blanca (Silvia Marso), who take care of her, are discussing her fate. What neither of them know is that the gunman, Ismael, who shot Leire is lurking, and his path has crossed that of hers, now an adopted daughter of sorts to an elderly lady who is also deaf. Fearing she might recognize him, he decides to kidnap and kill her. Juanma Bajo Ulloa presents the adult Leire and her progressive stalking in a dreamy way -- it's as if one were watching a dreamy, Lynchian version of "Little Red Riding Hood". The way he films Ana Alvarez, the young actress who plays Leire, only from her hand as it caresses the hedges on the gate as only Ismael's predatory face looks on is a visual stroke. We know that once again, Leire is in grave danger.
However, there are moments of wicked humor sprinkled throughout, as when Blanca, who goes to rescue Leire, wets herself twice out of sheer terror (although the second time around, it looks darker...). Another of them involves Leire's kidnapping. Ismael has once again broken into Leire's home where she lives with the elderly lady who is mute. However, he does not know that. He is ready to stifle her with chloroform when she turns around; he makes a quick run to a corner where he himself smells the chloroform, falls to the floor, and breaks a jar of what looks like fudge on the floor. When he wakes up, the old lady is on the floor, staring at him. But she is dead. Dead from a fall caused by his own mishap.
From here on, Juanma Bajo Ulloa takes the story into really dark areas. In a move that would have audiences running for the door, he allows us to see Leire being chained to a bed as Ismael and his volatile girlfriend Maite (with whom he has a love-hate relationship) look on, wondering what to make of this. She is thinking of blackmail; he is about to carry out his plan of killing Leire. Leire... well, she can't think, and she is completely helpless, staring blankly out, unaware of the extreme predicament she's gotten into. And then something happens... Ismael cannot kill Leire. The excuse is that she picked up a piece of chocolate from the ground, but something else is at hand, something greater that hints at an attraction and hints at a need for forgiveness.
It's a shame this movie was never released in the States, for it is a fascinating study of the good within evil and has its own rules which it breaks much like PSYCHO did (in which a character that we're rooting for meets a bloody fate). Karra Elejalde is a major revelation as the psychotic killer who faced with the woman who he damaged undergoes a change of heart. Some of the scenes are expertly choreographed in which what we see is what a character may be seeing, but misunderstanding, or in that what looks like a minor contrivance -- like a light bulb falling to the floor -- will serve as a crucial plot device. Ulloa has created a major work of art with this often disturbing thriller, and except for the fact that it runs about ten minutes too long, it is a stunning foray into the heart of darkness and its need for retribution.
Twelve years later, the story still holds: a man breaks into an antique gallery looking for something. A woman awakens, and before she can complete her sentence: "We have no money," she is shot dead. However, there is an added detail: a little girl -- the now dead mother's daughter (ergo the film's title). We see her only from her feet, approaching the dead mother's body. Then we cut to the burglar as he is about to make his escape. He suddenly wheels around, sees the girl holding what seems to be a baseball bat, her eyes angry and accusing. We see he is pointing his gun to her head. Certainly the audience will think, "Oh... he won't shoot, will he? She's just a little girl... what harm can she do to him?" Well... before anyone can think twice, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot bangs out, and we begin the movie proper.
Years later, Leire, the girl who received the fatal shot in the head that left her brain damaged, is now living in an asylum. With the intelligence of an infant, the Director of the mental ward and the young woman, Blanca (Silvia Marso), who take care of her, are discussing her fate. What neither of them know is that the gunman, Ismael, who shot Leire is lurking, and his path has crossed that of hers, now an adopted daughter of sorts to an elderly lady who is also deaf. Fearing she might recognize him, he decides to kidnap and kill her. Juanma Bajo Ulloa presents the adult Leire and her progressive stalking in a dreamy way -- it's as if one were watching a dreamy, Lynchian version of "Little Red Riding Hood". The way he films Ana Alvarez, the young actress who plays Leire, only from her hand as it caresses the hedges on the gate as only Ismael's predatory face looks on is a visual stroke. We know that once again, Leire is in grave danger.
However, there are moments of wicked humor sprinkled throughout, as when Blanca, who goes to rescue Leire, wets herself twice out of sheer terror (although the second time around, it looks darker...). Another of them involves Leire's kidnapping. Ismael has once again broken into Leire's home where she lives with the elderly lady who is mute. However, he does not know that. He is ready to stifle her with chloroform when she turns around; he makes a quick run to a corner where he himself smells the chloroform, falls to the floor, and breaks a jar of what looks like fudge on the floor. When he wakes up, the old lady is on the floor, staring at him. But she is dead. Dead from a fall caused by his own mishap.
From here on, Juanma Bajo Ulloa takes the story into really dark areas. In a move that would have audiences running for the door, he allows us to see Leire being chained to a bed as Ismael and his volatile girlfriend Maite (with whom he has a love-hate relationship) look on, wondering what to make of this. She is thinking of blackmail; he is about to carry out his plan of killing Leire. Leire... well, she can't think, and she is completely helpless, staring blankly out, unaware of the extreme predicament she's gotten into. And then something happens... Ismael cannot kill Leire. The excuse is that she picked up a piece of chocolate from the ground, but something else is at hand, something greater that hints at an attraction and hints at a need for forgiveness.
It's a shame this movie was never released in the States, for it is a fascinating study of the good within evil and has its own rules which it breaks much like PSYCHO did (in which a character that we're rooting for meets a bloody fate). Karra Elejalde is a major revelation as the psychotic killer who faced with the woman who he damaged undergoes a change of heart. Some of the scenes are expertly choreographed in which what we see is what a character may be seeing, but misunderstanding, or in that what looks like a minor contrivance -- like a light bulb falling to the floor -- will serve as a crucial plot device. Ulloa has created a major work of art with this often disturbing thriller, and except for the fact that it runs about ten minutes too long, it is a stunning foray into the heart of darkness and its need for retribution.