Disgustipated’s review published on Letterboxd:
Sydney Film Festival 2017 - #2
There is a scene in this film where one of our main characters, Veronica, meets a stranger in a diner. Curiously, she asks him about his practice of going out into the wilderness to hunt wild boar. Little does he know that in a way she is also a hunter, except inversely she goes to the city to lure people into the wilderness. Specifically, she takes them to a clearing in the forest wherein lies a cabin inhabited by a tentacled alien fuck monster.
That might give you the sense that it is some kind of Mexican version of Under The Skin meets Shivers. And you would be partially correct. But director, Amante Escalante really shines not just in the erotic sci-fi horror elements but also in the human drama, perfectly capturing the mercurial complexities of gender, sexuality and violence. With a mere four characters he is able to economically explore a web of relationships that encompass all of these dimensions.
Alejandra, her husband Angel and her brother Fabian are all turned inside out when Veronica comes into their already turbulent lives, further exacerbating their insecurities, their shame and their desperation. As each of them are introduced to her ET buddy in the cabin all such concerns seem to fade away. It is as though the monster is the incarnation of man's most fundamental impulse for sexual desire in its most pure form, completely devoid of gender and sexual orientation.
Unfortunately, sex is not the only primal urge. It's ugly cousin, violence, is never too far away. Both man and monster are capable of inflicting great harm on one another in this film. In essence, it is this dichotomy between these twin drives of sex and violence, and each characters relationship to them, that is at the core of this film. And the fuck monster is used to good effect as a reflective device to explore these themes.different vantage point.
One of the reasons this film works so well is due to the performances of its two lead actresses. Simone Bucio, as Veronica, is a box-eyed, flat-faced waif. She has a subdued presence that sits in an uncertain space between bruised vulnerability and circling predator. Ruth Ramos, as Alejandra, has a childlike, button-nosed face, cute like a bunny and almost demurely pretty. She looks weary and lonely, but there is a twinkle somewhere in her eyes that is itching to get out. Both women had me transfixed whenever they were in the frame.
Also of note was the soundtrack. There were moments where the camera slowly zoomed into a focal point in a pastoral scene or slid itself through a drab alleyway while an eerie and menacing humming like buzz, punctuated by unnerving flares of bass noise, created a tense and disquieting atmosphere.
As for the SFX, the mobster could have looked totally lame but they pulled it off OK. Kind of like a cross between a Xenomorph and an Octupus. I was also quite surprised by one particular scene set in a meteor crater that I dont want to spoil other than to say it looked like a demented segment from a David Attenborough TV special.
Even if you are not a huge tentacle porn fan, I urge you to check this out. It feels like it has all the urgency and insistence of an early Cronenberg film to put society under the microscope. And although it lacks some of Cronenberg's single-minded insciveness, it makes up for it with well executed performances.