Film Review: The Curse of La Llorona (7/10)

A Folk Legend Drowned in Familiar Waters — But the Craft Keeps It Afloat

The Curse of La Llorona (2019), directed by Michael Chaves and produced by James Wan, dives into the folklore of “The Weeping Woman,” a ghostly mother doomed to wander in grief after drowning her children. Starring Linda Cardellini, Raymond Cruz, and Patricia Velásquez, the film blends Latin American mythology with the slick conventions of The Conjuring universe.

Cardellini plays Anna Tate-Garcia, a widowed social worker in 1970s Los Angeles whose family becomes the target of the spectral La Llorona. What follows is a battle between faith, guilt, and the supernatural — told through the lens of a franchise horror machine that can’t quite decide if it’s folklore or formula.

STORY (1/2)

The bones of the story are ancient and powerful — a mother’s grief twisted into eternal vengeance — but the execution leans heavily on the familiar rhythm of studio horror. Chaves builds a clean structure: setup, investigation, haunting, confrontation. It’s competent, even classical, but rarely surprising.

The film’s greatest strength is its mythology. Drawing on one of Latin America’s most enduring legends, La Llorona should feel like ancestral horror — intimate and generational. Instead, it plays more like an imported ghost tale, losing the emotional specificity that made the myth so haunting. Setting the story in 1970s Los Angeles offers texture — the Catholic imagery, the bilingual dialogue, the cultural duality — but the screenplay doesn’t explore it deeply enough.

Pacing is efficient, though predictable. The scares arrive on schedule, the emotional beats land where expected, and the third act unfolds exactly as you’d imagine. There’s no question what you’re watching — a well-made studio ghost story. The only disappointment is how little risk it takes. The real tragedy isn’t just La Llorona’s curse — it’s how safely she’s handled.

VISUALS (2/2)

From a craft perspective, The Curse of La Llorona looks great. Michael Burgess’s cinematography carries the moody DNA of The Conjuring series — rich shadows, flickering light sources, and restrained camera movement that favors atmosphere over spectacle.

The film makes great use of domestic spaces: bathrooms, bedrooms, hallways — ordinary settings turned claustrophobic through blocking and light. One of the best sequences involves a slow zoom toward a locked door framed by yellow lamplight — simple, effective, and unnerving.

Visual effects are restrained, with the ghost design relying more on makeup and lighting than CGI. The costuming for La Llorona herself — the white gown, soaked veil, and decayed features — feels tangible and theatrical, like an apparition caught between the living and the lost. There’s a precision to how Chaves stages her reveals, allowing cinematography and production design to carry the tension.

If the story plays it safe, the visuals at least honor the legacy of gothic horror: texture, patience, and light doing the heavy lifting.

SOUND (2/2)

Sound is the heartbeat of any good horror film, and here, it’s where the team truly shines. The sound design layers whispers, water drips, and distant sobs into a rich aural landscape that constantly teases presence. Silence, too, is weaponized — used to stretch suspense until the inevitable scream of the score.

Composer Joseph Bishara, a frequent collaborator in the Wan universe, brings his trademark blend of distorted strings and choral echoes. His score isn’t subtle, but it’s effective, creating a rising tension that mirrors the story’s emotional dread.

Dialogue clarity is strong, even in low-lit sequences, and the dynamic range between quiet scenes and jump scares is well-balanced — never overmixed or muddy. The surround design makes every creak, knock, and cry feel uncomfortably close. It’s polished sound work from professionals who understand that fear often lives between frequencies.

CHARACTER (1/2)

Linda Cardellini brings warmth and credibility to a role that might’ve felt thin otherwise. She plays Anna not as a horror heroine but as a mother barely holding it together — that grounding helps when the supernatural chaos erupts. Her chemistry with the child actors, Jaynee-Lynne Kinchen and Roman Christou, feels natural, making their family dynamic the emotional spine of the film.

Raymond Cruz, as curandero Rafael Olvera, injects energy into the second half. His performance blends spiritual confidence with dry humor, giving the story a sense of cultural grounding it desperately needs more of. Patricia Velásquez as Patricia Alvarez delivers a haunting portrayal of grief and guilt, her few scenes leaving a lasting impression.

The problem lies in the script’s surface-level characterization. Everyone feels slightly boxed into archetypes: the grieving mother, the skeptic, the believer, the cursed. Strong performances keep it watchable, but no one evolves in a way that deepens the theme of generational sorrow.

FACTOR X (1/2)

This is where the film loses its edge. Despite being steeped in myth, La Llorona feels more like a franchise installment than a cultural statement. The folklore deserves more reverence, more danger, more ambiguity. Instead, it’s wrapped in the same narrative cloth as Annabelle or The Nun — clean, corporate horror with sharp jumps but little residue.

Still, it’s hard not to admire the craftsmanship. You can feel the precision of a crew that knows how to build tension and deliver scares on cue. But there’s something missing — the handmade fear that makes legends like La Llorona endure. The result is a technically strong film haunted by its own safety net.

The Curse of La Llorona is a film made with skill, care, and respect for its genre, but not enough risk to transcend it. The performances are grounded, the visuals elegant, and the sound work exceptional — yet the story plays too neatly within the Conjuring formula to feel truly alive.

There’s beauty in its construction and professionalism in every frame, but the emotion behind the myth never quite reaches the surface. It’s a solid horror entry, but not the definitive version of La Llorona audiences have been waiting for.

If you’re a fan of studio-crafted hauntings, it delivers. If you’re hoping for folklore with fire in its veins, this one only wades in the shallow end.

FINAL SCORE: 7/10

Where to Watch: Amazon Prime | HBO Max