Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator

If you like movies that feel like a dusty book pulled off a shelf in an attic, you’ll dig Alala. It’s got that specific kind of gray, misty atmosphere that makes you want to wrap up in a wool blanket.
But look, if you need a fast pace or something that explains every plot point by the time the credits roll, stay away. This isn't exactly The Four Feathers in terms of excitement. It’s more of a mood piece.
Jorge shows up in Galicia looking for his roots, and the whole thing feels like he’s walking into a trap set by time itself. The cinematography has this weird, grainy texture that honestly makes the whole town of Portomar feel cursed before he even steps foot in it.
There is a scene with the sorceress Úrsula where the lighting is just… off. It’s too dark, but in a way that feels intentional, like the movie is trying to hide things even from the camera.
I found myself wondering if Jorge even wanted to be there. He spends a lot of time looking vaguely worried at walls and trees.
The whole warning about not going to Portomar? Classic. It’s the kind of trope that should be annoying, but here it just works because the movie doesn't overplay its hand. It doesn't scream at you that something is wrong. It just whispers.
The pacing is… well, it’s a choice. Sometimes it feels like the reel is dragging, and you’re just waiting for the next person to walk through a doorway. It’s not quite as manic as The Chicken, that’s for sure.
There is a moment near the middle where a character just stares at the horizon for what feels like five full minutes. I checked my watch. It was probably only thirty seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. Weirdly, I didn't hate it.
Anyway, watch it if you're in the mood for something moody and don't mind a story that takes its sweet time getting to the point. Just don't go in expecting a thriller. It’s more of a long, slightly uncomfortable sigh of a film. 🌫️
Year
1934
IMDb Rating
—

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Deciphering the legacy of transgressive cult cinema.
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