A young girl’s retreat into a wonderfully ghoulish alter-Spain in this thought-provoking new release recalls both Pan’s Labyrinth and The Spirit of the Beehive. Indeed, the popularity of the former on U.S. shores, along with that of The Orphanage, may have informed Lionsgate’s decision to distribute “6 Films to Keep You Awake,” the 3-disc set on which A Real Friend can be found. And from the outset it’s clear that Enrique Urbizu’s made-for-TV movie shares the bifurcated structure of Pan’s Labyrinth. As in the Del Toro film, the “interior” and “exterior” worlds overlap in all kinds of interesting ways and the only common element is the child (here played quietly but winningly by Nerea Inchausti) who travels between them… or is it? Is the realm of nightmare, with its secrets, dangers, and betrayals, really so different than a world torn by Civil War—or, as in A Real Friend, the domestic equivalent, the nuclear family in conflict with itself? To be sure, Pan’s Labyrinth draws the line between the fantastical and the actual much harder and firmer than does A Real Friend, but it’s that rich ambiguity that Urbizu and co-writer Jorge Arenillas are shooting for.

In that sense, A Real Friend is more clearly an homage to The Spirit of the Beehive.  In Victor Erices’s 1973 classic, young Ana Torrent’s obsession with Frankenstein’s Monster plays out against a post-Civil War backdrop.

Intentionally allegorical and meditative rather than fantastical, The Spirit of the Beehive nonetheless rises to the heights of magic realism in its unforgettable climax—which A Real Friend in effect takes as its starting point. Horror fans will get a kick out of the central role that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’s Leatherface plays here, as well as the “supporting” roles doled out to a Schreck/Kinski Nosferatu, various lumbering zombies, and even a gleefully malevolent Mr. Hyde. (An aside: for cultural reasons alone, if that makes sense, I found it thrilling to see Leatherface alongside such other iconic creations; both his physical presence and the connection to The Spirit of the Beehive indirectly affirm that he’s a stand-in for Frankenstein’s Monster here.) On a deeper level, I suspect that many fans may relate, as did I, to the way that such monsters can act as one’s most loyal friends—even guardians.

Still, the most haunting performance in A Real Friend may come from Goya Toledo, perhaps best known for her work in Iñarritu’s Amores Perros. The way she provides dimension to the mother character largely helps the film avoid falling face-first into melodramatic cliché in its final act. Speaking of which, there are a couple of big twists in store for the audience, but to me these simply provided more food for thought—they neither justified the experience of watching the film nor cheapened it. For me A Real Friend was already a superb work of dark enchantment, one that reminds us why Halloween, after all is said and done, is really a child’s holiday at heart.