The Orphanage

Masks were very popular in horror movies in 2007. We saw the return of the most famed mask-wearing murderer of the 1970s, Michael Myers, in Rob Zombie's Halloween. Behind the Mask: The Leslie Vernon Story spoofed the genre, as did Hatchet. Everyone in the fright club was abuzz about the teaser poster for the upcoming film The Strangers, which is basically just a solitary image of a malevolent mask. Yes, concealed killers are more popular than ever. But are they still scary? For me, the answer was "ho-hum"… until I saw The Orphanage.

Juan Antonio Bayona's directorial debut, written by fellow feature newbie Sergio G. Sánchez, The Orphanage was produced and shepherded by none other than genre giant Guillermo del Toro, and his influence is almost tangible. Not influence in a hands-on manner, but it's obvious that Bayona and Sánchez are fans of his work — not to mention the slow-burn, bone-chilling horror cinema of bygone eras.

With evocations of The Devil's Backbone, Turn of the Screw, The Tenant, Rosemary's Baby, The Descent, and even Peter Pan, The Orphanage unfurls as its own thing as we follow the anxiety-fraught existence of Laura (a fragile yet tough Belén Rueda).

Laura, once an orphan, is doing everything she can to honor her childhood: She and her husband Carlos (a stoic yet deeply sympathetic Fernando Cayo) have purchased the stately seaside manor and estate upon which she was raised with a close-knit group of fellow orphans. The couple have even gone so far as to adopt an HIV-positive little boy, Simon (a preternatural Roger Príncep). Life at the old orphanage is idyllic for a time… but before long, something buried in the past breaks the waves and comes to the surface.

Young Simon starts to withdraw from his parents once he invents imaginary new playmates and finds himself drawn to a nearby lighthouse and a dark, damp beach cave. The two adults notice their child's withdrawal, but they're so happy about renovating the orphanage and opening it to needy children that perhaps they don't give their domestic situation proper attention.

Laura and Carlos's contentment drowns the day Simon disappears. It happens shortly after his intensely devoted mother has a terrifying encounter with a menacing masked child. The facial camouflage is clumsily crafted from a swath of filthy burlap, adorned with button eyes, and a painted red smile that's smudged into a frown with what is presumably dirt and drool. It's one of the scariest — and saddest — disguises ever captured on film. [click the image above, to enlarge]

Suspense is the signature stamp of The Orphanage. The characters are constantly peering around corners, staring into dark shadows, tearing away old wallpaper, and straining to make out mystery sounds. Suspense's sibling is emotion. Unlike most modern-made thrillers, The Orphanage fosters characters that are truly worth the investment, and at their core is a compelling mystery which will leave you holding your breath till the final frame fades.

The tremendously careful, very believable acting helps keep one on the edge of the seat (Geraldine Chaplin is white-knuckle as a medium brought into the orphanage to investigate Simon's disappearance, and Montserrat Carulla is truly terrifying as a skulking mystery woman), but the whole picture comes together thanks to dazzling cinematography and a heart-tugging, pulse-pounding score.

While the bulk of The Orphanage is obsessed with mystery and tension in its wicked wonderland setting, there is indeed gore and horror provided for the more bloodthirsty viewers. Certain shocking scenes will no doubt be playing in peoples' overwrought imaginations and nightmares for years to come.

Clearly I loved The Orphanage; but I did have a couple of problems with it. I still wrestle with a loose end or two, and I did not much care for the ending. But those are minor quibbles — The Orphanage is one of the best movies of the year, of any genre.

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Reviewed by Staci Layne Wilson

• View Horror.com's exclusive interview with the director and screenwriter