One might expect a film called The Devil’s Backbone to include many features of a typical ghost story—the haunting figure, blood and guts, and, of course, unsettling jump scares that make viewers feel afraid to walk alone at night to the bathroom. However, while the film does deliver on some of the typical “horror” aspects that viewers come to expect, like the ghostly, spectral figure, it’s far more focused on features of humanity, war, and trauma in its explorations of haunting and murder.
An Uncomfortable, Thought-Provoking Narrative
Suffice it to say, this film is not a mindless, bloody flick with supernatural monsters ripping apart the flesh, eyeballs, and brains of innocent victims; instead, it is a disturbing thought piece that offers viewers a crawling sense of discomfort.
In classic Del Toro fashion, unsettling themes are introduced immediately. The film begins with a dramatic view of a dying boy on the ground, his body thrown into the depths of murky water, so, yes, the viewer can expect a certain amount of blood and genuine horror, but it tends to be mindfully placed and solemn. Soon after, a young boy, Carlos, is driven to an orphanage after his father was killed during the Spanish Civil War. A large bomb looms outside of the building, a harsh (and glaringly obvious) reminder of the ongoing war around them.
However, as significant as the war appears to be early in the film, it soon takes a backseat to the ghostly young boy, Santi, that haunts Carlos. The boys in the orphanage are aware of his presence, although they deny any immediate concern, suggesting a hushed or avoidant attitude towards unwanted subjects. This detail beautifully symbolizes a refusal to face traumatic experiences or memories, common for victims or witnesses of tragedy.
Further in the film, it is revealed that Jacinto, a former orphan that was raised in the orphanage and continues to work there, is sleeping with the principal while both have lovers; she also knew him when he was a child, making their dynamic even more disturbing. Truthfully, their intimate scene may have been the most horrifying part of this movie; it was purely uncomfortable and odd to witness after seeing the characters with their respective partners.
Here, it becomes clear that Jacinto is not exactly the most upstanding citizen; later, his anger, cruelty, and greed lead him to set fire to the orphanage, killing several children in the process. Finally, the viewer understands Santi’s presence amongst the children, not as a vengeance-seeking, cruel figure, but as a misunderstood, justice-seeking apparition that only wants the best for the others. In a shocking reveal, Santi’s death is exposed as Jacinto’s fault — he mistakenly killed him when he was frustrated with the boy and had physically abused him.
These scenes reveal the major idea that humans themselves are the monsters, not the spectral or supernatural figures present — a classic Del Toro trope that he persists in his more current films.
A Ghostly Design and Gothic Atmosphere
Santi’s design is slightly reminiscent of Del Toro’s Frankenstein—pale, blackened eyes, cracks and scars embedded within the ghostly flesh, etc. Clearly, the CGI in the film leaves much to be desired for a modern audience, and the crew would have been better off sticking with practical effects; still, his design manages to feel genuinely unnerving, an impressive feat for early 2000s technology.
His mannerisms and words make one realize that, although he appears frightening, he is not destined to be the main antagonist of the film; several times, he mentions that “many of you will die”, and, while it sounds ominous, Santi speaks with such a childish softness that leads viewers to realize his character offers more complexity than the generic, murder-crazy psychotic ghost that horror culture tends to recognize and propagate.
Speaking of Del Toro classics, this film is a decent example of Gothic horror, particularly due to its usage of a dark, disturbing building, long, winding corridors of dimly lit stairs, whispers in the night, and, of course, the supernatural, ghostly presence of Santi. In this way, the film could have used slightly stronger features to solidify its place within the genre, although the attributes still feel engaging enough to appreciate.
Terrors on an Individual Level
The war itself, which is mentioned several times and is physically manifested through the bomb sitting on orphanage property, is presented somewhat subtly in the actual plot of the movie.
Although this may feel disappointing for certain viewers (as many likely assumed that the several references to the war meant that it would become a war film in of itself), it can be beneficial to observe a horror movie set within a historical space that emphasizes terrors on a unique, individual level rather than simplifying communities’ experiences to shoehorn them into stereotypical “war victim” narratives. This way, the characters’ unique experiences can subtly represent war trauma on a wider scale without feeling too on the nose.
Overall, The Devil’s Backbone makes for an incredibly effective narrative around humanity and the struggles of recurring trauma, but it is not as terrifying from a purely “horror”-based perspective, so it may not be for everyone. Its scares are limited and the film depends more on narrative themes and atmosphere to elicit fear and contemplation from viewers.
The Devil’s Backbone (2001) – A Contemplative Journey of Trauma - Malevolentdark
Director: Benicio Del Toro
Date Created: 1970-01-01 00:33
3.5