Like abattoirs and sexual health clinics, orphanages tend to get a bad rap when it comes to cinematic PR. All three provide a valuable public service, but do the world’s filmmakers acknowledge this fact? Oh no. Instead, such places are used as the setting for gloomy horror flicks, tapping into our collective fear of death, isolation and woefully inadequate social care.
Juan Antonio Bayona’s The Orphanage doesn’t buck the trend, but the whole endeavour is carried off with such sheen and panache that few will have grounds for complaint. It’s a horror film, certainly, but one that places stock in the honourable ingredients of classic ghost stories – atmosphere, flawed characters and a nebulous wave of growing sadness. After surviving the recent glut of drill-to-face torture smut, these softball tactics sound positively benign – yet the end result is anything but.
The plot recalls several of Daphne du Maurier’s creepier tales, focusing on a young woman haunted by shadows of her past – quite literally, as events transpire. Laura (Belén Rueda) returns to the seaside orphanage of her youth, aiming to open a home for sick children. Her first charge is her adopted son Simón, a sweet little boy who has yet to be informed of his HIV infection. But Simón has issues stretching beyond his illness, namely a tendency to play with imaginary friends who may or may not be there. “Zoiks!” as Scooby-Doo might say.
It sounds predictable, and aside from a couple of exceptional shocks it is – until the story takes a surprise turn for lonelier ground. In the film’s latter half Laura becomes increasingly fractured by the trauma that surrounds her, and Bayona toys with the notion that everything could be taking place inside her damaged mind. This shrewd ambiguity is sustained even throughout the tale’s centrepiece – a nerve shredding séance in the dark – and the net result is a deeply freaky ride for sceptics and believers alike.
With Guillermo Del Toro serving as producer, The Orphanage was always destined for a certain level of quality. While it would be foolish to discount the influence of The Devil’s Backbone director, however, Bayona has shown huge potential with his first time in the chair. When a debutant nails the tricky blend of morbid chills and bedtime tears, you know it’s time to pay attention.
