Certain phrases work upon film critics in the same way vuvuzelas will in the ears of unsuspecting Chelsea Pensioners. Among the most radioactive ("Directed by George Lucas"; "A Platinum Dunes Production") is the seemingly innocuous: "From the Producers Of
" Trust me, 99 per cent of the time this tagline denotes the exact opposite of a seal of quality. It gives me little pleasure, then, to report that Hierro hails "from the producers of Pan's Labyrinth and The Orphanage" – both standard-bearers for the new wave of Spanish-language chillers. The presence of subtitles isn't always indicative of a Horribilis Superior.
Like The Orphanage, this is another addition to the increasingly popular 'Where's Wally' sub-genre: Maria (Elena Anaya) is travelling with young son Diego to the eponymous real-life island, Europe's southernmost point, when he mysteriously vanishes on board the ferry. Six grief-stricken months later she's recalled to the island, where a boy's body has washed up. Nightmares, visions and fleeting glimpses of Diego soon follow. Are the islanders harbouring a secret? Is Maria going crazy? Or what?
Sadly, this simplistic psychological thriller is desperately underwhelming stuff – no mean feat in a movie containing full-frontal nudity and flaming morgue corpses (gosh, these 12A films are a bit racy!) – with a mandatory twist and some half-hearted jump-scares. Meanwhile, the ridiculously over-the-top musical cues and strident celestial choruses made this reviewer want to leap from his seat and tear out the cinema speakers with his bare hands.
On the upside, there's some very pretty, elemental cinematography (that strange, strange island, with its blackened beaches and volcanic turrets, is the movie's real star). Perhaps an almost inevitable Hollywood remake might help flesh out the plot. Or not. Probably not. In any case, I won't be holding out for a Hierro.
Like The Orphanage, this is another addition to the increasingly popular 'Where's Wally' sub-genre: Maria (Elena Anaya) is travelling with young son Diego to the eponymous real-life island, Europe's southernmost point, when he mysteriously vanishes on board the ferry. Six grief-stricken months later she's recalled to the island, where a boy's body has washed up. Nightmares, visions and fleeting glimpses of Diego soon follow. Are the islanders harbouring a secret? Is Maria going crazy? Or what?
Sadly, this simplistic psychological thriller is desperately underwhelming stuff – no mean feat in a movie containing full-frontal nudity and flaming morgue corpses (gosh, these 12A films are a bit racy!) – with a mandatory twist and some half-hearted jump-scares. Meanwhile, the ridiculously over-the-top musical cues and strident celestial choruses made this reviewer want to leap from his seat and tear out the cinema speakers with his bare hands.
On the upside, there's some very pretty, elemental cinematography (that strange, strange island, with its blackened beaches and volcanic turrets, is the movie's real star). Perhaps an almost inevitable Hollywood remake might help flesh out the plot. Or not. Probably not. In any case, I won't be holding out for a Hierro.