The production design by Pilar Revuelta, an Oscar-winner for PAN’S LABYRINTH, helps add a level of enchantment to what is otherwise a very solid and entertaining horror outing—one that reaffirms Spain’s status as a hub of notable work in the genre.
And with Junio Valverde of THE DEVIL’S BACKBONE starring, and THE ORPHANAGE’s Álvaro Augustín exec-producing, Shiver certainly makes use of talents with which North American audiences will be familiar. Yet despite layering-in interesting subtexts and touches of style that underscore the narrative, helmer Isidro Ortiz is not attempting to pull off a personal vision along the lines of Guillermo Del Toro’s most celebrated work. Another apt comparison could be made to LET THE RIGHT ONE IN, which explores strikingly similar themes, including the outsider status of both adolescents and monsters. But in that film director Tomas Alfredson is clearly determined to push horror into new territories. Ortiz, in contrast, doesn’t care much about exploring new ground per se, but rather is focused on giving the audience a good ride regardless of where it travels.
Of course that’s an oversimplification in many ways. After all, Ortiz, whose contributions to 2001’s FAUSTO 5.0 marked him as an interesting talent, does have his own ambitions; and for long sections of Shiver, he succeeds wonderfully in transporting us to a slice of the Spanish countryside that seems partly realistic and partly fabulistic. Indeed, with Revuelta’s contributions and stunning work by cinematographer Josep M. Civit, Shiver effectively creates a present-day community that evokes Medieval Europe in all the important genre ways you want it to (i.e., the way we recall Universal doing it in the ‘30s and ‘40s). To wit, an unknown monster is stalking the dark forests and terrorizing the “peasants.” The natural suspect is outsider Santin (Valverde), newly arrived from the big city. Masking class issues as urban-vs.-rural tensions is nothing new, and can be found in horror-thrillers as diverse as Fulci’s DON’T TORTURE A DUCKLING and the recent Gary Oldman-starrer THE BACKWOODS (which coincidentally also takes place in Spain and concerns a community’s failure to care for children with special needs).
The script doesn’t just stop there but also includes a multitude of other conflicts, such as parent-parent, parent-child, and rationalism-superstition, and does so to an extent that usually makes movies seem overstuffed, but not here. Consistent throughout is an argument that posits horror as a natural outgrowth of a corrupt moral landscape. Of course in such a context the monstrous is the heroic, and most other “black and white” values are reversed as well. In rather obvious visual and narrative terms, this notion is evidenced by Santin suffering from photophobia, much like the kids in THE OTHERS. “You’re a little strange, aren’t you?” he’s asked while reading a comic book as other teens are busy playing and socializing. And very predictably his response is no, it’s “everyone else” who’s strange. Nothing earth-shaking here in terms of character development or nuance, but the reversal-of-values strategy is still rather comforting to most horror audiences, myself included. With Fernando Velázquez’s rich score, Civit’s wonderful chiaroscuro work, and Valverde’s slightly haunted look, Shiver pulls viewers in, and Ortiz’s self-assured hand at the rudder keeps us firmly under its spell.
Santin on playing video games: "I kill monsters to forget I'm one myself..."
Until, that is, the movie decides to eschew Mystery for mystery, and horror atmospherics for survival-thriller mechanics. To be fair, for much of its runtime the movie is remarkably restrained, playing its cards close to its chest for far longer than one would expect is possible; it just keeps us hanging and hanging, wanting to learn more about the elusive monster, but not quite driving us to impatience. But then suddenly we’re given all the answers that really matter (some minor explanations are left to the very end), and it’s as if Shiver doesn’t just tip its hand but throws all its cards on the floor and gives up. Will the good guys catch the monster in the woods or will it pick them off one by one? And how many humorous exchanges will occur before the next death?
To be sure, Shiver handles the more standard thriller-comedy elements quite well. Santin’s buddy from the city shows up and, in a turn by Jimmy Barnatán that recalls Curtis Armstrong or maybe early Jack Black, promptly steals several scenes. Other pieces, while diverting, aren’t quite as convincing. For example, why a local beauty (who happens to be the police chief’s daughter) takes to Santin is never quite explained, and so smacks of adolescent wishful thinking. Not that one minds this sort of light romance in a genre film, but everything else is so much more tightly worked out that this bit stands out sharply—I kept expecting a twist wherein her real motives would be revealed, but it never came.
An unknown elderly man with flowers stares at us; in its early stages Shiver contains many such images that disturb us without our really knowing why.
The bottom line is that both the lion’s share of Shiver’s success and the source of its shortcomings derive from the way that it blends arthouse stylings with popcorn-movie impulses of the large-bucket variety. If you’re looking to split the difference between the two, you could not do better—or if you don’t tend to see the two approaches as inherently oppositional. Still, some audiences may disappointed that all of the mythically resonant sequences from the first half of the movie give way to such literal goings-on in the second. Others will be completely satisfied by the way that the movie “pays off” all of the thematic and character build-up by delivering a fast-paced, old-style, mystery-drama with all the trimmings. Artful without being arty, suggestive without becoming too abstract or self-indulgent, and thoughtful without forgetting to make things fun, Shiver might actually represent popular entertainment of the highest order.
One of the most Jungian horror movies you'll encounter these days; so is Shiver about coming to terms with one's Shadow or about noncturnal meetings of anima and animus?