Horrible Imaginings 2020: LUZ: THE FLOWER OF EVIL Review – If Jodorowsky and Aster Had a Colombian Child
Starring Yuri Vargas, Jim Muñoz, and Sharon Guzman
Written by Juan Diego Escobar Alzate
Directed by Juan Diego Escobar Alzate
The final review within the context of our Horrible Imaginings Film Festival 2020 is upon us, but let me assure you: last certainly isn’t least. Luz: The Flower of Evil comes from Colombian director Juan Diego Escobar Alzate and, much like most films programmed for this event, it packs an almighty social commentary punch. But it’s not all brains without beauty, either. Let’s dive deep, then, into this mixture of Jodorowsky’s philosophy and Ari Aster’s aesthetics, pushed to hyper-realist extremes.
Set sometime within the past 50 years, somewhere in the Andes (the film is purposefully vague about its setting), Luz tells the story of El Señor, a would-be Christian prophet who commands a tiny mountain community with an iron fist. El Señor, crestfallen after the death of his beloved Luz, looks for The Messiah to save his flock from perdition. His approach to finding his saviour, however, is highly questionable, and comes at the highest cost.
Perhaps one of the films which benefited the most from the post-screening Q and A session, Luz touches on subject matter that isn’t for the faint of heart. The filmmaker’s intent on criticizing the power of religious belief to the point of corruption is ever-present, and manifests itself in graphic scenes of abuse (psychological, physical and sexual). It would be easy to jump to conclusions about the message such images send about the mistreatment of women, but thankfully, the main female stars of the film were in the Q and A session and were able to provide some context. One of the most touching details came when they explained how those scenes were, in fact, cathartic, and some were extended in order to allow other cast and crew members to participate. “It was cleansing, we cried, we healed”, they remarked, when questioned about these horrific scenes. Given the social and geopolitical context within which the film was made (and within which it takes place), healing continues to be a necessity for many. I am grateful that some have been able to experience it through this film.
Besides the obvious, however, El Señor’s particular brand of divine message contains more subtle comments on religion, spirituality, race, and more. Of particular appeal to me, as a music professional and music fan, was the film’s use of classical music to depict the forbidden. A clever play on the Adam and Eve biblical passage, cassette tapes containing Mozart, Bach and other notable composers are treated like the proverbial apple, which corrupts the mind away from the lord. Much like the apple gave Eve knowledge, so too do the tapes provide a new perspective, through art, which acts as a catalyst for cataclysmic events within the tiny community.
The supposed Messiah’s physical appearance, with blonde hair and blue eyes, is a stark reminder of the continued perceptions surrounding some historical figures and their own appearance. The nature of the Messiah, too, gives food for thought: is he evil? Is he actually godly? We remain mostly in the dark about these things throughout the film, and it is once again a deliberate choice.
You see, this duality is central to Luz and how it frames its themes. Humanity’s own duality, that we are all both good and evil, is a key tenet of the story. And in fact, one of my favourite aspects of how the film tells that story, too.
Moving on from the plot, however, I want to discuss the presentation, because it is just as much of a character as El Señor, his unfortunate “daughters”, and the Andes. In an exquisite way, this particular Flower of Evil borrows from genre greats like Midsommar, as well as all-time favourites like The Wizard of Oz, to create a hyper-real landscape that is saturated to the brim. However, it isn’t overdone. It almost is, but it doesn’t quite get there. The cinematography, color grading and compositing walk a fine line between overdone and tasteful, but always staying just barely on the side of the latter. Skies replaced with shots of the Milky Way, trees that look greener than you’ve ever seen in real life and textures that feel rich and palpable: that is the Luz way. And I adore it for that.
Music and soundscaping is just as strong, providing a mixture of ambience and classical music that at times enhances, and at others contrasts, the images on screen.
All of this is anchored by incredibly solid performances from all involved, showcasing once more that one needn’t depend on Hollywood darlings to achieve amazing acting. El Señor himself, played by Conrado Osorio, poses a threat which feels real, raw and almighty in its power. But the trio who play El Señor’s daughters is just as compelling. Andrea Esquivel’s Laila is the pure angel of salvation, Yuri Varga’s Uma is the human fall to temptation, and Sharon Guzman’s Zion is the innocence of youth, personified. That they were able to create a film which exudes this chemistry between the quartet of El Señor and his daughters is a testament to the talent and craft possessed by both cast and crew.
Negatives? Well, one could argue that the open-ended nature of the film’s ending is a bit frustrating, after having experienced so much. I personally don’t mind, as I feel it to be an apt way of ending a story which touches on subjects which are, sadly, ongoing. Another issue for some might be language: the film is in Spanish, which some audiences might find annoying, as it means having to read subtitles. I’m hoping this attitude is someday eradicated from North American audiences, as everyone else in the world is used to reading subtitles for US-made films. In the meantime, however, it is something to keep in mind.
Aside from that, Luz: The Flower of Evil is an almost-flawless execution of what it set out to become. The graphic nature of some of the scenes will turn some off, and another bunch will be left behind due to the need to read subtitles. But for those who understand the context within which the film was made, and who are already fans of world cinema, Luz transcends genre boundaries to become a cornerstone moment in South American cinema. It is, therefore, a must-watch. Lucky for you, it is now available on VOD and other formats.
WATCH NOW:
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LUZ: THE FLOWER OF EVIL
Summary
Luz: The Flower of Evil is a strong mixtue of philosophy and hyper-realism that fires on all cylinders at all times.
