Just like the protagonists of true-blue horror films, I am prone to making bad decisions when I spot descriptors like ‘spine-chilling’, ‘terrifying’, ‘diabolical’ and the likes in the context of the genre. So when I found out that the Spanish film on Netflix, Veronica, not to be confused with Carlos Algara and Alejandro Martinez-Beltran’s Mexican film of the same name, was scaring people into abandoning it mid-way, I had to dig my own grave and hurl myself right into it. I had to wear my cape of daredevilry and see what the fuss was all about.
Someone on YouTube even called this Ouija-board horror movie, Spain’s answer to The Conjuring. It has even bagged multiple nominations at Spain’s prestigious film awards, the Goyas. When the twilight drew her curtains and pinned them up with a star, I sat down to watch this Paco Plaza directorial. Since horror is best enjoyed in the company of a fellow horror buff, I resisted the temptation of savouring it alone (*cough* I’m not that brave *cough*).
I have to admit that I had to turn it off halfway simply in apprehension of the dread to follow. In my defence, it didn’t scare the Beejesus out of me but I just couldn’t afford a sleepless night when a long work day awaited me with an open jaw and it’s difficult to ignore the imaginary ghoul standing at the foot of the bed by night - the struggle of an adventurous yet timid horror geek. Feel the fear but do it anyway! So, full marks to Veronica on the mood and how swiftly it dives into action. It quickly establishes that something malevolent is afoot. Horror junkies be impatient!
In 1991 Madrid, after holding a séance at school, a teen girl minding her younger siblings at home suspects an evil force has entered their apartment.The Netflix synopsis of Veronica
Shortest Horror Story: Based on ‘True Events’
Reality can be even more sinister than yarns of gore and fear is the best leveller. Veronica had me at ‘inspired by a true story’. The film is loosely based on the police case of Estefania Gutierrez Lazaro (the Vallecas Case), a teen girl who died in Madrid in the early 1990s, several months after reportedly conducting a séance at school. According to Newsweek, a nun reportedly broke her ouija board, and she experienced hallucinations and seizures in the months to come.
Paco Plaza, the director has admittedly taken a lot of creative liberties in the film. The film begins with an emergency call and culminates in the typing of a police report. It gets very specific with the dates, addresses and time including the name of the police station in the beginning. “This story is based on the police report filed by the detective in charge of the case,” we read at the start. The actual police report allegedly carries articulate descriptions, terming it a “situation of mystery and rarity,” witnessed by three officers and the Chief Inspect of the National Police.
“In Spain it’s very popular, this story, because it is, as we say in the film, the only time a police officer has said he has witnessed something paranormal, and it’s written in a report with an official police stamp and it’s really impressive when you look at it. But I think when we tell something, it becomes a story, even if it’s in the news. You only have to read the different newspapers to know how different reality is, depending on who’s telling it. So I knew we were going to betray the real events. I just wanted to make a whole vision… but the whole story of Veronica and the sisters and Antonito, this little Marlon Brando with glasses, it’s all a vision.”Paco Plaza during the Q & A following the screening at the Toronto Int. Film Fest
What We Fear Says a Lot About Us. Fear Unmasks Us.
Did I mention that I watched the film twice? Second viewings are great for a shift in perspective. The first viewing (though in parts) only made me perceive it as a supernatural thriller. But the next viewing made me appreciate how the film is rich in metaphor and subtext. Fear can lay bare our subconscious musings. The best case in point is the Oscar winning screenplay of the horror-comedy, Get Out that relentlessly challenged racial stereotypes and the viewer's expectations. The dreadful ‘Sunken Place’ in the film represents the marginalised African American experience. Though not as groundbreaking as Get Out.
Watching Veronica for the second time sans the anticipation of the jump scares helped me see the film through the prism of the protagonist’s experience. If you simply follow her character, the undercurrent of paranoia that has her in its grip is evident. Then there is the dialogue that again hints at her state of mind - What you don’t say good-bye to, stays with you. It’s this gossamer line between the paranormal and the psychological that can keep you rapt.
Fear is subjective. Devoid of the razzmatazz of supreme VFX, it’s powered by edgy writing and the compelling characters at its centre. The writing of the film is commendable - not sensationalising the ‘true events’ it’s based by working on two levels. There can be a psychological explanation to almost every supernatural scene in the film. You wonder how much of what’s transpiring on screen is her imagination.
All of 15, Veronica is tasked with the care of her three younger siblings. Her obsession with Ouija boards may just have been her defence mechanism - a silent cry for help after the death of her father and the resultant busyness of her mother, who works nights and sleeps most of the day and asks Vero to ‘grow up’. Add to the cauldron, the motif of Christian education. At best, Veronica is a tale of adolescent obsession. I only wish that this depth was plumbed.
“The horror genre is an excellent vehicle for talking about complex things: how we are, our emotions and our fears.”Paco Plaza, Director
Paco Plaza. Two Words. One Formidable Name. ‘Nuff Said
Veronica can slip through the cracks with the avalanche of content on Netflix. The Paco Plaza film surreptitiously made its way on the streaming site after its screening at the Toronto International Film Festival.
Paco Plaza’s seminal Spanish horror film, REC almost heralded a turning point in the found-footage sub-genre. He doesn’t fail to bring slow mounting tension and visual energy to Veronica, aided by Pablo Rosso’s frantic cinematography with scenes like a yard full of school children staring at the eclipse, a blind nun with an unflinching stare called Sister Death and the like. Thanks to the unoriginal plot, this film could have easily felt redundant in the hands of a lesser filmmaker.
Plaza considers Veronica as a ‘false’ sequel or a companion piece to the classic 1976 film, Cria Cuervos, an allegorical drama about an eight-year-old girl dealing with loss.
90s Feels & a Bespectacled ‘Little Marlon Brando’
The prime source of fear in the film is the innocent relationship that the children share. You feel fear for them, especially for the 5-year-old Antonito. Veronica’s psychological breakdown sweeps them its tide. Sandra Escacena makes an assured debut with her vulnerability tethering on the brink of an inferno. Brace yourself for her demonic mouth stretch.
The 90s period detail is on point - like time travel to retro Madrid. Vero listens to Héroes del Silencio, an iconic 80/90s Spanish rock band to drown out to ominous noises, and uses denim backpacks. The tune of the TV advert for Centella, a cleaning product also evokes a sharp sense of place.
How Scary is Veronica On a Scale of Armrest-Clutching to Slamming-the-Laptop Shut?
The film takes well-worn genre tropes and spins them into something fresh. It may not be the scariest horror film but it’s a well-made one with compassionate, tender undertones. I’m easily scared by tales of demonic position. So the rising tension did keep me on tenterhooks. But it didn’t terrify me the way the Exorcism of Emily Rose or Ouija: The Origin of Evil did.
If you scare easily, this one is right up your alley! The others can marvel at its craft.
Scaro-meter - 7/10.
P.S. You can’t really close your eyes during this Spanish flick because, SUBTITLES!
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