Valeria has long dreamed about becoming a mother. After learning that she’s pregnant, she expects to feel happy, yet something’s off.
Director Michelle Garza Cervera isn’t afraid to ask difficult questions surrounding motherhood. Her latest film dives deep into the shock and awe of pregnancy and the culture of motherhood in Mexican tradition through a lens of sheer horror. This thriller, about a woman with second thoughts about her pregnancy, keeps its feet firmly planted on the ground while still delivering a crackling haunting story. “Huesera” uses robust sound design, an incredible lead performance, and intense story plotting to keep its lens solely focused on the question: What if you changed your mind eight months into the pregnancy?
Natalia Solían plays Valeria, a young woman praying desperately for pregnancy with her husband. Valeria will do anything to get pregnant. She makes a pilgrimage to a blessed Virgin Mary statue and receives a blessing from the matriarchs of her family. When the time comes, the good news excites her and her husband, Raúl (Alfonso Dusal). Still, the more this pregnancy takes from Valeria, the more she questions if she wants the child. The entire time she’s haunted by a mysterious figure with broken bones and a penchant for dragging itself across the floor.
The central haunting of the movie unspools delicately throughout the entire film. We’re not given any backstory or lore to dig into what motivates the creature. Instead, it’s linked to Valeria’s growing anxiety over her soon-to-be-child. All around her, people dismiss her notion of being haunted. No one says the words’ baby brain,’ but it’s there between the lines. Valeria revisits an old flame from the past and sees what could have been if she had never gone down the domestic road. Too late, the monster closes in on her, and her child is at risk.
A film like this doesn’t have room for showy special effects or impressive practical stunts. The haunts are few and far between. Instead, the movie balances its outright haunting with the more taboo exploration of what pregnancy takes from mothers. Instead, it succeeds by leaning on its sound design and clever camera work. The camera bounces delicately in emotional scenes while sitting perfectly level during extreme hauntings. The sound effects are really what ties the whole piece together.
The thematic idea of bone-snapping makes itself present through the sound design. There are plenty of moments with outright bone-popping, crunching, and alarming snapping. All of it comes across through the noises used, and their prominence in the sound mix fills dead air with maniacal glee. Someone popping their fingers grosses many people; now, imagine someone popping their shoulder blade or spines. Better yet, the tonal affectation of that characteristic *snap* gets woven into various other sonic elements so deftly it’s barely noticeable. Whether turning a page, creaking a door, or shifting tree branches, snapping sound finds its way into many scenes. It’s unsettling and hints at the darker tones of the movie, even when it’s a warm beat.
Natalia anchors this film. Her gasps and sighs convey the complexity of motherhood. She demonstrates sadness in her eyes director Garza Cervera uses acutely to garner sympathy. Natalia’s performance lifts the film in many ways, buoyed by her strong cast. This film is in its element, though, showing us the average ordinary lives of Mexican residents, so it helps the actors to portray real people.
The haunting in this film happens very lightly. It’s soft in visual execution. We see a broken bone here or there. The real horror pays off when we see Valeria’s doubt and anger at her child for taking away so much from her start manifesting itself. We don’t fully know if it’s a haunting, but we witness her anger grow at people who keep praising her for being pregnant or doubting her ability to raise kids. It extends to the point we genuinely worry she might throw a child out an open window. The scares work to unsettle us; the real horror lies in seeing our protagonist finally crack under pressure.
“Huesera” does a great job of focusing its lens on the cost of pregnancy and motherhood. It shows life without kids as a joy, full of time spent with good friends. Pregnancy, however, can be a true horror full of self-doubt and dangerous misunderstandings. Its bare-bones scare sequences work to unsettle us, and the final dream sequence feels earned. We clearly track our protagonist’s emotional journey from beginning to end with no confusion. It adds up to an emotionally poignant tale that splits its horror between a visceral, bone-crunching horror and the intellectual horror of wondering when a woman loses her self-autonomy to become a mother. In “Huesera” ’s eyes, there can be no compromise, only sacrifice.
“Huesera” recently had its Texas Premiere at 2022 Fantastic Fest
