Name: The Communion Girl
Genre: Horror
Released: 2023-02-09T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Carla Campra, Aina Quiñones, Marc Soler, Carlos Oviedo, Olimpia Roch

The neon glow of a nightclub spills onto the road where two girls, high on drugs and adrenaline, stumble upon a doll in a communion dress. This is the eerie opening salvo of Víctor García’s The Communion Girl, a Spanish horror film that trades in familiar tropes but occasionally finds its own unsettling rhythm. The film’s premise—a cursed object, small-town secrets, and teenage protagonists—is nothing new, but it’s the execution that occasionally rises above the mundane.

Víctor García, known for his work in international genre films like Return to House on Haunted Hill (2007) and Mirrors 2 (2010), makes his Spanish-language debut with this 1987-set chiller. The story follows Sara (Carla Campra), the new girl in town, and her friend Rebe (Aina Quiñones) as they become entangled in a supernatural nightmare after finding the ominous doll. The film’s setting is evocatively captured, with a synth-heavy soundtrack that effectively builds tension and a visual palette that leans into the gritty aesthetic of 80s Spain.

The production values are notably strong. Shot in Corbera d’Ebre, the film’s locations add a layer of authenticity to the small-town horror narrative. The pre-production, production, and post-production choices are all commendable, as noted by Javier Ocaña of El País. The cinematography is particularly noteworthy, using shadowy alleyways and claustrophobic interiors to create an atmosphere of dread. The film’s technical execution is one of its strongest points, with a polished look that belies its modest budget.

However, the story struggles to find its footing. The screenplay, penned by Guillem Clua from a story by García and Alberto Marini, suffers from several subplots that go nowhere. The narrative often feels disjointed, with too many characters and threads that fail to coalesce into a cohesive whole. The film’s conclusion is particularly disappointing, feeling rushed and unsatisfying after a buildup of tension.

The performances are a mixed bag. Carla Campra as Sara and Aina Quiñones as Rebe hold the screen well, capturing the reckless energy of teenage girls caught in something beyond their understanding. Campra, known for her role in 10,000 km (2014), brings a raw vulnerability to Sara, making her a compelling protagonist. Quiñones, meanwhile, infuses Rebe with a fiery intensity that adds a layer of unpredictability to the dynamic between the two friends.

Marc Soler as Pedro brings a brooding intensity to his role, serving as a potential love interest for Sara while also adding a layer of menace. His performance is one of the film’s highlights, providing a much-needed emotional anchor amidst the supernatural chaos. Carlos Oviedo as Chivo adds another dimension of threat, playing a local bad boy with a penchant for violence.

However, some supporting characters, like Olimpia Roch as Judith and Anna Alarcón as Remedios, feel underdeveloped and one-dimensional. Roch’s performance as Sara’s younger sister is particularly forgettable, failing to make an impact despite the film’s attempts to build emotional stakes around her character. Alarcón, meanwhile, is saddled with a role that feels more like a plot device than a fully realized character.

The film’s originality is further hampered by its reliance on well-worn horror tropes. The cursed object, the small-town secrets, and the teenage protagonists are all familiar beats that have been done better in other films. While García attempts to infuse the story with social commentary about conformity and rebellion, these themes feel tacked on rather than organically integrated.

Despite its flaws, The Communion Girl has moments of genuine chills. The scene where Sara and Rebe first encounter the doll is effectively unsettling, and there are several jump scares that land thanks to the film’s strong technical execution. The film also benefits from a standout sequence involving a communion ceremony, where the tension is palpable and the direction is particularly effective.

However, these moments are too few and far between to elevate the film above its peers in the horror genre. The Communion Girl ultimately suffers from a lack of ambition, as noted by Juan Pando of Fotogramas, who praised the “authentic” characters but criticized the film’s failure to take risks. Sergio F. Pinilla of Cinemanía deemed it an effective instance of domestic terror, but even this praise feels somewhat backhanded given the film’s many shortcomings.

In the end, The Communion Girl is a competent but ultimately forgettable entry in the horror canon. It’s a film that will likely appeal to fans of small-town horror and those who enjoy atmospheric chillers with a strong technical polish. However, it lacks the originality or narrative cohesion to stand out in a crowded genre.

For viewers seeking a straightforward horror experience with some genuinely unsettling moments, The Communion Girl may offer enough to keep them engaged. But for those looking for something more substantive—whether in terms of storytelling, character development, or thematic depth—the film is likely to disappoint.