Sitges 09: LA MADRE MUERTA Review

When discussing the current wave of intelligent genre film coming out of Spain these days people have often asked a pair of questions, why Spain and why now? A decent number of possibilities have been put forward, from schooling to the close knit, supportive community but I think there's a simpler explanation. Fifteen years ago, when most of the current wave were settling on what Spanish film was, directors like Juanma Bajo Ulloa were making films like La Madre Muerta. Though he may not be particularly well known outside of Spain it seems perfectly clear to me that Bajo Ulloa is a spiritual forefather to many in the current wave, that the road from Bajo Ulloa to film makers such as JA Bayona (The Orphanage), Nacho Vigalondo (Timecrimes) and Luis Berdejo (The New Daughter) runs straight and true.

Bajo Ulloa's sophomore feature, La Madre Muerta stars Karra Elejalde (Timecrimes) as Ismael, a violently sociopathic criminal. We first meet Ismael as he breaks into the home of an artist and, finding no money, blasts the woman with a shotgun before the horrified eyes of her young daughter Leire, leaving the young girl orphaned and - as it turns out - so severely traumatized that she will live out the rest of her days virtually catatonic in an institution.

Jump forward several years. Ismael hasn't changed a bit. He lives beneath the radar in an abandoned house, heaping abuse on his willing and subservient girlfriend Maite while scraping together a meager between-jobs living working as a bartender under an assumed name. That is, he scrapes a living together until he kills his boss in memorable fashion for swearing too much and becomes increasingly obsessed with the mentally disabled young woman he locks eyes with across the street. It is Leire and despite the fact that she clearly cannot communicate Ismael becomes increasingly convinced that he must kill her. And yet, strangely, he cannot. He has opportunity but instead of finishing the job he takes her home where feelings begin to warp and twist and Maite is soon consumed with jealousy ...

All of the elements that we associate with current Spanish genre film are in full effect here: the handsome cinematography, the formal compositions, the emphasis on tone and character, the slight subversion of expectation. Bajo Ulloa is a master story teller and clearly on top of his game here. He is a master of the bait and switch, of setting up an apparently obvious situation only to skew off course at the last possible second. He gives you characters that appear simple on the surface only to push them into increasing layers of depth and complexity. He breaks taboo without ever seeming tawdry or exploitative. La Madre Muerta is a true gem of a film, one that shocks and compels and remains every bit as vital a piece of work today as it must have been the day it was released.

And now, thanks to Spanish DVD label Avalon, La Madre Muerta is getting the treatment it deserves with a gorgeous three disc release, formatted in all-region PAL with subtitles offered in French, English and Italian on the main feature. I don't believe I've ever seen an Avalon release before but if this is any indication of their work, then this is truly a gold-standard label. The packaging is gorgeous, the film presented in a stunningly remastered print. Audio and video is as close to flawless as you'll ever find. The only possible quibble is that the subtitles do not extend to the extensive bonus features on the second disc, though disc three stands as a tasty bonus for all regardless of language as it is a copy of the film's score. This comes very, very highly recommended.