VENUS - Fantastic Horror
Dec 6, 2022
More than any genre, perhaps with the exception of musicals, in horror films the "how" counts more than the "what". The script is a necessary evil and what counts is the creation of atmosphere and sensations through the use of images, editing and sound (Application to the directors of horror films: consider doing without the scares by means of sound shock).
Accustomed as we are to Anglo-Saxon terror, which tends to have a certain tendency to, if not rationalize, tell scary stories following a certain logical coherence and following certain rules, we are surprised and disconcerted by so many Italian, Mexican or Asian horror films that follow a « logic" closer to that of nightmares than to that of a thriller or drama, as is often the case with what comes to us from Hollywood. With Venus, Jaume Balagueró attempts to approach the symbolism and surrealism of the terror that the gringos would call foreign, and he does so with a most diverse combination of ingredients.
There will be some who say that the problem with this film is wanting to combine churras with Merinos or the delirium of its final stretch, but that does not have to be a bad thing (think of cult titles by authors such as Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci or including the American John Carpenter). What Venus lacks is what makes movies like Inferno, The Afterlife, or The Prince of Darkness memorable: atmosphere. And it is not that Jaume Balagueró lacks the talent or the tools to convey to the viewer the restlessness of a bad dream, as he has already demonstrated in some of his previous works, such as in that exercise in cosmic terror that was Darkness (2002).
In Venus, the director from Lleida returns to that subgenre and, incidentally, combines it with a neighborhood thriller with traditional overtones, some social commentary, and allegory about female power, among other things. As his friend and occasional partner Paco Plaza already did in Verónica (2017), Balagueró moves to a block of flats in the terror neighborhood, a much more recognizable place for most of the public (how many of us have grown up in one?) than castles, the mansions or even the villa developments that Anglo-Saxon cinema has accustomed us to.
The childhood terrors of many viewers are associated with such a place, and Villaverde Bajo catches us closer than Maine. Unfortunately, the Venus building (so-called, Venus) never reaches its potential as a close and ominous place, contrary to what happened with Verónica's Vallecano block.
The fault lies with a standard and even clumsy production, which misses out on succulent moments like that birthday party with some witchy-looking neighbors, the architecture of the Venus building itself as a neighborhood version of the Ghostbusters skyscraper or the moments of action, shot with a confusing and outdated “shaker camera” style.
In the achievements section, we must point out the general quality of the performances, with a decent job by the total protagonist, Ester Expósito who surpasses her fame as a "choni" sex symbol without renouncing that facet, with dramatic moments well carried away and even explosions of violent paroxysm.
The evident photogenicity of the leading lady does not overshadow the work of secondary roles like that mafioso who is an enthusiast of churros played by Pedro Bachura (his scenes are the best in the film) or an extremely elegant and disturbing Magüi Mira.
The film is VERY loosely inspired by Lovecraft's story "Dreams in the Witch's House", the basis of several adaptations, such as Stuart Gordon's telefilms for the Masters of Horror series (2005) and Catherine Hardwicke's for The Cabinet. of curiosities by Guillermo del Toro (2022). Likewise, it recycles moments and ideas from recent films such as The Lords of Salem (2012), the aforementioned Verónica, Revenge (2017), and even The Raid (2011), with much of that recent Spanish criminal cinema that tries to marry quinqui cinema. with the Korean-inspired thriller. Juicy ingredients cooked unfortunately either way.
Venus is the second installment of The Fear Collection label, an initiative of Sony, Amazon, and Pokeepsie Films, the production company of Carolina Bang and Álex de la Iglesia, whose inaugural film Veneciafrenia (2021) could well be considered the worst work of this director. A new Fantastic Factory?
Synopsis
Lucía is a dancer in a techno nightclub in Madrid. One night after a show, he steals a holdall full of ecstasy pills from the club owner's box office. Surprised by the doorman, she manages to escape but is stabbed in the leg at the last second. Bleeding profusely and wanting to avoid the hospital, Lucía seeks refuge with her sister and her little niece, who live on the outskirts in a dilapidated block of flats called “Venus”.
Immediately, Lucía begins to notice that there is something strange in that place, as well as in the behavior of the neighbors who inhabit it. When her sister disappears one morning, Lucía has no choice but to watch over her niece and protect her from an ancient horror that lurks behind the walls of the old building.
See you tomorrow!
