[Rec]

“[Rec]”

Spain. 2007. Directed by Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza. Written by Jaume Balagueró, Luis Berdejo and Paco Plaza. Starring: Manuela Velasco, Pep Sais, Ferran Terraza, Jorge Serrano, Javier Botet, David Vert, Maria Lanau, Claudia Font, Manuel Bronchud, Vicente Gil, Carlos Lasarte and Carlos Vicente.

Rating: ★★★½

You have seen shaky POV cam before and the horror elements presented are not unfamiliar. But the Spanish horror film, [Rec] reinvents the exercise by combining the elements into a really frightening package that feels simultaneously fresher and more classical. Many of the classic horror films work just like haunted houses in which the filmmakers just want to shout out “boo” as many times and as effectively as possible and this film almost always knows how to stay ahead of the audience.

One of the reasons the movie’s directors, Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza and their co-writer, Luis Berdejo are so successful at this is because it is patient. Horror films are often too eager to start with a literal bang and/or at least make sure the viewers know their setup early on (for example in Cloverfield, which was good but perhaps still too keen on informing what kind of footage is being presented). This film’s opening is simply of the heroine, Angela Vidal (Manuela Velasco) stumbling in her reporting that she will be shadowing some firemen for a TV show. In order to respect the film’s patience, I will suggest you shelve this review until afterwards if you know nothing about this film.

The night first starts out pleasantly, if a little boringly for Angela, as she is filmed and followed all around by her cameraman, Pablo (Pep Sais) and learns that a fireman’s routine is not what she imagined of running through burning buildings but of waiting quietly on duty and resting up for an emergency situation. However, a distress call comes in reporting a noise disturbance at an apartment building and Angela and Pablo’s camera follow a fireman, Manu (Ferran Terraza) and a group of policemen into the room. There, they find a very disturbed old lady that they attempt to calm down, until she suddenly aggressively sprints, lunges and bites a policeman in the neck.

This is the point when the zombie elements come into play (e.g. you get bitten, you also get virally infected and turn into a zombie) and the government officials, as is their usual procedure in the movies, abandon and lock all the residents, firemen, Angela and Pablo inside so as to prevent further spread of infection. The fresh, clever twist here though is that because they are locked in an apartment building and the camera thus also stays entirely inside, it builds a perfect setting to turn the complex into a full, traditional haunted house, all captured by Pablo’s news camera. No one can get out and the claustrophobic terror thus can only build and build as the number of infected start to grow in number, all while Angela insists that Pablo film everything that goes on and the survivors try to find a way out.

Surely, directors Balagueró and Plaza drive this for primal effect and I would not dream of giving away any of the numerous shocks that pervade throughout. Months, even years can go by before a jump scene really gets to me but this film has about three moments that are so unexpected and implacably timed that my jaw fell agape. They are all so effective because, unlike lesser horror films, they grow organically out of everything that we know (and fear) before and then spin the story into another terrifying direction.

Much credit must also go to the actors who deliver unadorned, unaffected performances that enhance the naturalistic feel the filmmakers are trying to create in order to underline the scares. The clever touch in the story’s premise is that since Angela is a TV reporter, it allows the opportunity for each actor/character to realistically talk about their doubts and suspicions (some of which is discriminatory, namely towards a Chinese family who lives inside the apartment) directly to the camera, without a hint of self-consciousness. Providing a sturdy anchor is Manuela Velasco with a wide-ranging performance that sustains our empathy by starting out as an adorably plucky and fearless personality and very gradually and believably becoming hopelessly aghast and terrified.

There has recently been a wave of accomplished, traditional horror movies in Spain with The Orphanage last year and this movie. While The Orphanage got a limited release last December thanks to producer Guillermo Del Toro, [Rec] at last has already been bought to be remade into Quarantine, which will be released in October this year (and is already too eager to reveal its “found footage” premise as its selling point). The fact that the studios are yet still reluctant to release subtitled foreign sensations may perhaps say more about some American audiences than the studios themselves (I still know people who sadly refuse to read subtitles) and that is a pity for all. Why should foreign filmmakers get repeatedly denied their due recognition for their original work in the United States while the mass American audiences are insulted with what so often is a carbon-copy hack job (which Quarantine seems just as well to be, as those who have seen the original will recognize that so many scenes are just shot-for-shot replicas)?

Even if the remake steals scenes wholesale from this film, I doubt that they will be able to fully reproduce the effect of innovative restraint and skill with which the filmmakers utilize their POV handheld camerawork. Staying true to its illusion to the point that the TV cameraman, Pablo is only heard and not seen, the camera is often dropped during unexpected frights or when Pablo himself must take action and it never goes for lingering kill or gore shots unless the story sensibly takes it there (and the only time the gore is prolonged is during an impromptu treatment of bite wounds). There is also one detail I particularly enjoyed where the unguarded camera starts rolling while it is on its side on the floor and captures an askew view after a little girl comes over and curiously turns it on.

The only notable flaw that keeps this movie from being perfect is in the final act in which certain characters towards the end unfortunately fall into the horror movie cliché of never doing the most logical thing before running around through dark rooms, which is to first look for and turn on the light switch (even if there is the camera light that illuminates just enough to see). But, without the pitch-darkness in the end, we would not have had the concluding payoff in the last five minutes that leaps so heedlessly into a pure, unadulterated nightmare. Just like a good haunted house, the filmmakers have saved the biggest scare for last.