No to be confused with the German film about demonic possession, Luz: The Flower of Evil is a Spanish language film that explores the perverse power of faith and hysteria. Set in an unspecified time period, the loose plot follows three women and their religious zealot ‘father’, El Señor, as their peaceful existence becomes disrupted after El Señor brings home a young boy he claims to be Jesus.
A genre film without a solid plot in the typical sense, Luz: The Flower of Evil is not an easy film to connect with. There are plenty of examples of other works that don’t rely on a coherent and comprehensive narrative structure, and whilst Luz has other elements to make it engaging, it’s hard to fully latch onto any of the characters. Director Juan Diego Escobar Alzate purposely drives a wedge between spectator and player, allowing the watcher to be unbiased in their interpretations of the world on display. The story flits from person to person, always returning to the core trio of sisters, but still keeping a distance from them. The audience is not privy to their full back story, nor do they get much time to spend on any one of them before the camera jumps back to El Señor, Jesus, or one of the other tribe’s members.
Alzate uses the sparse story as a conduit for exploration into the bigger theme of religion. El Señor acts as pastor to his flock, and has convinced himself and his followers that his daughters are angels sent by God. Since their arrival they have lived a peaceful existence, but Señor is also on a quest to bring Jesus into everybody’s lives. He takes this literally by stealing a child he believes to be the son of God. The extremity of his convictions is the driving force for what story is on display, the group are essentially his cult, and its collapse creates an opportunity for an engaging narrative.
Made for a reported twenty thousand dollars, Alzate has achieved some remarkable visuals. The whole production looks like a piece of art. It’s vibrant and bold, Alzate foregoing the expected genre lighting and palette of dim and grungy. Watching Luz is on a par with looking at paintings, the landscape and, sky in particular, have an ethereal watercolour quality to them that really sets this film apart from many others within the same budget bracket. The imagery is so beautiful that one could easily see it being displayed in an art gallery. Considering the more fluid and free nature of the narrative, each frame could be viewed on its own merits up on the wall of any establishment, creating a transfixing and immersive experience for all that ventured through it. These stunning vistas and backdrops are what draws the eye and attention, and one can only imagine what Alzate could create with a larger budget.
Although bright and beautiful, there is a steady unease and darkness that is ever-present. Alzate builds this dread steadily until it becomes almost suffocating in its intensity. Atmospherically, Luz is reminiscent of Roger Egger’s The VVitch and Ari Aster’s Midsommar; so if you struggled with either of them, then you may struggle here. The ferocity of the energy is the perfect horrific balm to the serene setting, and the disquieting juxtaposition guarantees that Luz: The Flower of Evil will be rooted under your skin for days after viewing.
Luz: The Flower of Evil is on Digital HD now and will arrive on Blu-Ray from Monday 23rd August 2021.
Luz: The Flower of Evil
Summary
A film that relies on the viewer’s own views and interpretations to enrich the viewing experience, Luz: The Flower of Evil offers a beautiful exploration of the darkest side of religion and obsession.
