Oh, how wonderfully clever this is! Filmmaker Carlos Enrique Taboada crafted a delightful film, so specifically leaning on the special qualities of childhood, and centering young Flavia and Veronica, that adults are infrequently seen, and their faces are deliberately kept out of frame except in very select instances. The story trades almost exclusively in childhood innocence and gullibility, the power of imagination and suggestion, the bonds of youthful friendships, jealousy, social drama, and peer pressure; that notions of black magic and witchcraft are part of the narrative is secondary. There's a significant fairy tale-like quality to 'Veneno para las hadas' ('Poison for the fairies') that superficially softens the themes of horror - but which, at length, helps them to resonate all the more at the peak psychological moment. It's easy to think that Guillermo del Toro must have been inspired by this early in his career, for the same airs of dark whimsy underlie this 1986 feature as those we anticipate from Taboada's countryman. It may not be viscerally thrilling in the manner we customarily assume of genre fare, but the storytelling is rich and enchanting, and the lighter colors on the surface belie the devious core that sates our cravings as innocent play turns insidious. When all is said and done, viewers and genre fans are absolutely rewarded, in the most dastardly of ways, and the impact it bears is almost certainly longer lasting.
From grand homes to stately schools, and from vast landscapes to old estates, the filming locations are impressive and lovely in providing the settings for the story of two young girls, one of whom is very insistent on presenting as a witch to her impressionable new classmate. Carlos Jiménez Mabarak's original music, sprightly and mirthful, quite cements the fairy tale vibes as the plot gently but definitively climbs toward increasingly somber, terrible suggestion - and a climax that will carry dire consequences, and spell the end of innocence. All the while Taboada builds scenes, as writer and director, that focus so much on Flavia and Veronica one can nearly forget they aren't the only characters present. His shot composition is terrific to that end, giving us no few moments that would look right at home as illustrations in a children's book. Coming off for very nearly all of its ninety minutes as being incredibly far removed from horror, the seemingly sweet facade is devilishly deceptive as the saga culminates in an astonishingly morbid, breathtaking finale. All the while, Ana Patricia Rojo and Elsa María Gutiérrez give fantastic performances far exceeding their station as child actors. No matter what is required of them in a moment their acting is perfectly natural, and both are integral to selling 'Veneno para las hadas' and all that it ingeniously represents.
At all times the picture is fabulously understated, not to mention underhanded; the plot is so grounded in reality that the only "effects" to speak of are matters of fire and shadow. Lupe García's crisp cinematography lets every detail pop out vividly, yet for the most part those details are only in the sets and filming locations, and in the nuances of the Rojo and Gutiérrez's performances. 'Veneno para las hadas' treads so delicately that it doesn't look like much from the outset, and one might very reasonably question what they have sat for in light of the overall cheerful energy of the proceedings. Those who are receptive to the most quiet, restrained, and/or wily shades of genre fare, however - draw comparison to folk horror, if you like - will find much to love here as our patience and commitment bear delicious fruit in the last stretch. I didn't know what I was getting into either, and I had no foreknowledge of the title; it was only by chance that I stumbled onto it in the first place. I am so, so very glad that I did, though, because this is a deeply underappreciated hidden treasure that deserve much, much more recognition. It won't appeal to all, but if you're open to all the wide possibilities that cinema has to offer then I can't recommend it highly enough. 'Veneno para las hadas' is phenomenal!
From grand homes to stately schools, and from vast landscapes to old estates, the filming locations are impressive and lovely in providing the settings for the story of two young girls, one of whom is very insistent on presenting as a witch to her impressionable new classmate. Carlos Jiménez Mabarak's original music, sprightly and mirthful, quite cements the fairy tale vibes as the plot gently but definitively climbs toward increasingly somber, terrible suggestion - and a climax that will carry dire consequences, and spell the end of innocence. All the while Taboada builds scenes, as writer and director, that focus so much on Flavia and Veronica one can nearly forget they aren't the only characters present. His shot composition is terrific to that end, giving us no few moments that would look right at home as illustrations in a children's book. Coming off for very nearly all of its ninety minutes as being incredibly far removed from horror, the seemingly sweet facade is devilishly deceptive as the saga culminates in an astonishingly morbid, breathtaking finale. All the while, Ana Patricia Rojo and Elsa María Gutiérrez give fantastic performances far exceeding their station as child actors. No matter what is required of them in a moment their acting is perfectly natural, and both are integral to selling 'Veneno para las hadas' and all that it ingeniously represents.
At all times the picture is fabulously understated, not to mention underhanded; the plot is so grounded in reality that the only "effects" to speak of are matters of fire and shadow. Lupe García's crisp cinematography lets every detail pop out vividly, yet for the most part those details are only in the sets and filming locations, and in the nuances of the Rojo and Gutiérrez's performances. 'Veneno para las hadas' treads so delicately that it doesn't look like much from the outset, and one might very reasonably question what they have sat for in light of the overall cheerful energy of the proceedings. Those who are receptive to the most quiet, restrained, and/or wily shades of genre fare, however - draw comparison to folk horror, if you like - will find much to love here as our patience and commitment bear delicious fruit in the last stretch. I didn't know what I was getting into either, and I had no foreknowledge of the title; it was only by chance that I stumbled onto it in the first place. I am so, so very glad that I did, though, because this is a deeply underappreciated hidden treasure that deserve much, much more recognition. It won't appeal to all, but if you're open to all the wide possibilities that cinema has to offer then I can't recommend it highly enough. 'Veneno para las hadas' is phenomenal!