Monk-based Mexican horror from 1934 is quickly turning into one of my favorite micro-genres. Last month, I reviewed
Dos monjes, the story of a love triangle gone bad leading to the monastery and madness. That dark and beautiful film was directed and co-written by Juan Bustillo Oro. Oro is also one of the screenwriters for that same year's
El fantasma del convento, Fernando de Fuentes' film about three people who spend the night in one of your creepier monasteries. Both films also share lead actor Carlos Villatoro. If there are any more 1934 Mexican horror films set in monasteries, please let me know. We're two for two right now.
El fantasma del convento is a more traditional horror film than
Dos monjes's dark Gothic Expressionist melodrama with moments of surrealism, and it's not quite as visually stunning, but it's a damn good horror movie, with inspired location shooting, atmosphere for days, and quality dad jokes. It takes the always solid premise of stranded travelers taking shelter for the night in a strange location, and puts some monastic weirdness all over that business.
The film begins with married couple Eduardo and Cristina (Villatoro and Marta Roel) and their friend Alfonso (Enrique del Campo) wandering in the mountains outside Mexico City, lost in a rainstorm. Eduardo almost falls in a gully, and the night is growing colder. It's Alfonso's fault. Adventurer that he is, he took his pals on a mountain hike and got them lost. Things are dire until Alfonso remembers there is an abandoned monastery nearby where they can take shelter. Eduardo, a risk-averse and play-it-safe kind of guy, gives the ol' oh-hell-no to that idea because he's heard weird things about that monastery, possibly on Yelp. Unfortunately for Eduardo, his risk-averse ways are vetoed by his more adventurous wife and friend, who are a little too comfortable with each other, if you get my meaning. Suddenly, a weirdo with a giant dog named Shadow appears. The weirdo tells them the monastery is not abandoned and to follow him if they want to go. Eduardo continues to be the voice of reason but is again outvoted, and the trio follow the weirdo and his dog. The weirdo tells them to knock and promptly disappears.
That's where the weirdness ends, as the friends spend a relaxing night at the monastery. Wait. It appears I've been given some misinformation. The weirdness continues. Only one of the monks will talk to the trio as the order has taken a vow of silence, and strange moans are heard behind a boarded-up room. The corridors are confusing and maze-like, empty coffins covered in dust fill a basement room, the trio are split up and placed in separate chambers, and one of the monks has a damn skeleton hand. It's beginning to look like a freaky monastic Hotel California up in this piece.
Director/co-writer Fernando de Fuentes was a big name in Mexican cinema in the first half of the 20th century, working as a director, screenwriter, and producer from the early 1930s until his death in 1958, with movies continuing to be produced from his screenplays until 1970. He worked in almost every genre, at a prolific pace. Though he really showed a knack for the genre, Fuentes' only horror film as director is
El fantasma del convento, though he did co-write
La llorona (The Crying Woman), reviewed on this site last year, and another horror co-write,
Face of the Screaming Werewolf, was made several years after his death.
I'm giving this one a solid recommendation. If you're into Mexican horror, early '30s horror, travelers lost in the night movies, weird monks, and love triangles, give it a whirl. It's not the artistic masterpiece Dos monjes is, but it's pretty damn good.
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