The Orphanage (El Orfanato) Review
By Joe Lozito
Peter Pan's Labyrinth
There's not much in "The Orphanage (El Orfanato)" - director Juan Antonio Bayona's pleasantly spooky tale of the titular haunted institution - that you haven't seen in countless other horror movies. A beautiful, secluded, seaside building with plenty of foreboding hallways; a dark secret involving the mistreatment of children; a plucky heroine driven by the love of her lost son. On the surface, "The Orphanage" sounds like a been-there-done-that snoozer. But, as Mr. Bayona's promising debut proves, even the oldest horror movie clichés are still effective in the right hands.
For starters, "The Orphanage" isn't the type of horror movie American audiences have become accustomed to recently (the "Saw"/"Hostel" variety); there is very little blood in the film. "The Orphanage" belongs to a different class of chiller, one that relies on atmosphere and character to derive its scares. A technique which, when done well, is far more effective. "The Orphanage" is presented by Guillermo del Toro, and Mr. Bayona has clearly studied his colleague's work - as well as that of others in the so-called Spanish "new wave". This film has much more in common with Alejandro Amenábar's
"The Others" or Mr. del Toro's own "The Devil's Backbone" than anything to come out of the American horror mill of late.
"The Orphanage" takes place almost entirely in the building of the title, impossibly located on a deserted stretch of the coast of Spain. Loving couple Laura and Carlos (the striking Belén Rueda and the serviceable Fernando Cayo) move into the palatial structure with the intent of turning it into a home for "special children". It seems Laura grew up at the orphanage as a girl, so she feels a kinship with it (uh-oh). Laura and Carlos also have their own adopted child, Simón - a precious loner with a passel of imaginary friends (double uh-oh). One day while playing irresponsibly at the beach (in a cave, no less), Simón meets another "friend". Soon, in a harrowing sequence, Simón disappears. Linda's single-minded quest to find the boy drives the rest of the film. It's Ms. Rueda's raw, bruised performance and Mr. Bayona's patient pacing that keeps the proceedings interesting even while piling on the goose-bumps.
"The Orphanage" borrows from a lot of sources, not the least of which is "Peter Pan". J.M. Barrie's tale of "lost boys" and eternal youth is a recurring theme in the film. But perhaps the source that it most unfortunately borrows from is "The Grudge", that last unraveling of the Japanese horror trend. Not only does the film make very little sense in the end (reality and imagination blend one too many times) but the writer Sergio G. Sánchez all but cribs the whole "when something bad happens it leaves a scar" shtick verbatim. I'll let that go, though. If these movies have taught us nothing else (and they haven't), it's that nothing good comes from holding a grudge.
