Reviewing Devil's Backbone

From the UK Observer:

The Devil's Backbone
Philip French
Sunday December 2, 2001The Observer

For 30 years now, Spain has been making movies in which the Spanish Civil War is observed from its fringe through the puzzled eyes of sensitive children. The finest of them is Victor Erice's Spirit of the Beehive, shot two years before Franco's death, and The Devil's Backbone, written and directed by the Mexican Guillermo del Toro and produced by Pedro Almodóvar, is a worthy addition. Like del Toro's earlier pictures, Cronos and Mimic, it's a ghost story not entirely unlike the recent Spanish success The Others.

The film takes place at an isolated orphanage on a hot, dry plain in 1938 when the Fascists are clearly in the ascendancy. The orphanage is run by a kindly couple, the crippled Carmen (Almodóvar's marvellous leading lady Marisa Paredes) and the elderly Dr Casares (Federico Luppi). They're covert loyalist supporters, and their latest charge is Carlos (Fernando Tielve), whose father was recently killed in battle.

From the start there's an uneasy, eerie atmosphere. Carlos is bullied by his fellow orphans; he tries to make sense of overheard conversations; a giant unexploded bomb in the courtyard is mysteriously connected with the disappearance of one of the boys and the rumours of a threatening spirit, 'the one who sighs'.

Carlos keeps catching glimpses of a ghostly figure that issues warnings of forthcoming catastrophe, and after a group of International Brigade prisoners are brought to the house and summarily executed, it becomes clear that Carmen and Dr Casares must flee for their lives. At this point a quiet, suggestive picture suddenly turns into shockingly violent melodrama with the vindictive ex-inmate Jacinto (Eduardo Noriega) as the catalyst. There are even echoes of Lord of the Flies in the brutal climax. It's a striking film and further good news for the Spanish cinema, too few of whose films open here.



Some of the other reviewers commented that they felt the ending did not live up to a promising beginning. In many ways, I see their point. Not only did the fear factor of the story fall apart after Carlos confronts Santi, but the final death scene in which the chidren over run the tyrant lacked a little umpfh. At the same time, one might see the dissipation of fear in both viewer and character as the maturation of the boys as they come into a new age of their lives and of Spain. In this vein, the viewer becomes less of an observer of Carlos and more of a participant in his journey at the orphanage. Thoughts?