Connect with us

Editorials

The Weeping Woman: The Folklore and Pop Culture Influence of La Llorona

Published

on

A ghostly woman, with long black hair and dressed all in white, wanders alone at night wailing for her lost children. Children that she drowned. That woman is La Llorona, or the Weeping Woman, a haunting figure in Latin American folklore. For some, to hear her cry is an omen of death. For others, it’s a siren’s song that leads to your own death. But most commonly, La Llorona is ghost in constant search of wayward children to snatch up to replace the ones she lost.

The foreboding La Llorona is finally poised to become a household name with The Curse of La Llorona, but she’s been haunting Mexico and the Southwest for centuries. Her legend is so old that the exact origin has long been lost, and details of her story have changed depending on the region. La Llorona has been such a fixture in Latin American folklore that versions of her tale have slipped through into pop culture, some overt and some far less obvious. Though none quite as huge as a major theatrical release set in the Conjuring universe, which draws from the most common telling of La Llorona. Consider this a primer for this ghostly figure ahead of The Curse of La Llorona’s arrival in theaters.

Many believe that the earliest version of La Llorona stems from the Aztec goddess Cihuacoatl, ruler of the cihuateteo, or deified spirits of women that died during childbirth. On certain days of the year, the cihuateteo haunted crossroads seeking victims, preferably children. La Llorona has also been conflated with La Malinche, or Doña Marina, the Nahua mistress of the conquistador Hernán Cortés and mother of his first son. The story of La Malinche is that when Cortés wanted to return to Spain, he wanted to leave her behind and take their son with him. Distraught and angry, she killed their son and then herself.

The most common version of La Llorona is that of Maria, a beautiful woman born of a rural, poor village. When a traveling nobleman passes through her village, he’s so taken with her that he marries her despite her low station. At first, they’re happy and she bears him two sons. Eventually, though, his travels mean he’s away from his family more and more, until he returns with a new wife- one more suited for his wealth and class. Distraught and wrathful, Maria takes her sons out to the river and drowns them. When her anger subsided and she realized what she’d done, she spent the rest of her days weeping by the riverside in a state of profound grief, wasting away until death claimed her.

There are variations to the details, but the core remains the same: the ghost of the grieving woman haunts bodies of water (or highways and roads in modern versions) in perpetual search of her lost children. It’s a story passed down to children to keep them from wandering of by themselves, especially at night.

With such a long running history behind the legend, it’s no surprise that La Llorona has managed to slowly enter pop culture in recent years. There’s a good chance that even if you aren’t familiar with La Llorona, you’re familiar with her legend. Here are a few examples:


Movies

The Curse of the Crying Woman

Or, La Maldición de la Llorona, this loose telling of the legend is highly underseen outside of Mexico, but it’s an amazing gothic gem that borrows a lot from Mario Bava (Black Sunday in particular). The plot follows Selma, who has summoned her niece Amelia to her mansion to claim it as part of an inheritance. It soon becomes clear that Amelia has been lured there to play a role in the family’s curse and revive the witch La Llorona. Witches, bats, gothic set pieces, and imagery that feel straight out of a Bava film, there’s not a whole lot of familiarity to the actual legend here, but it’s a great film (with some melodrama) and La Llorona is pretty creepy.


Mama

While the ghost at the center of 2013’s Mama isn’t La Llorona, there are obvious parallels between the two. The creepy entity acting as mother to the orphaned Lily and Victoria was once Edith Brennan in life, a woman committed to an asylum and separated from her baby. She escaped from the asylum with her baby, jumping off a cliff and drowning in the water below. Her ghost spent the next century wandering the woods in mourning, looking for her lost child. Like La Llorona, Mama is a ghost created out of profound grief for her lost child, a loss that was entirely her fault, and doomed to wander the area where the loss occurred.


TV

Grimm “La Llorona”

This Halloween episode of season 2 featured, you guessed it, La Llorona. In Grimm’s version, La Llorona moves from city to city, stealing and drowning three children in a river just prior to midnight every Halloween. It turns out that La Llorona sacrifices the three kidnapped children in the hopes of getting her own back. The heroes work to save the kids before the stroke of midnight. They succeed, but La Llorona is still out there, her spirit free to kidnap more children in another city. This version also borrows from La Malinche’s origin of La Llorona; an ancestor of lead protagonist Nick (David Giuntoli) once encountered the spirit while traveling with Cortés in 1519. She cries tears of blood and has a much ghastlier appearance hiding beneath the surface in this version.


Supernatural “Pilot”

Referred to in the premiere episode of Supernatural as the “Woman in White,” the Winchester brothers investigate the mournful ghost of a woman who lures male drivers to their doom in Jericho, California. Dressed in white, she hitchhikes near a bridge and murders those who pick her up. In life, she was Constance Welch, a woman who drowned her children and then killer herself after discovering her husband cheating on her. In the end, she’s defeated when the brothers take her home, where her ghostly children get revenge. In the episode, she’s referred as a “Weeping Woman,” one of many wailing female spirits across the world, including Mexico. Supernatural references La Llorona’s source while turning her folklore into a specific type of ghost.


Haunted Attractions

Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights

La Llorona has proven to be a tried and true entity for Universal Studios annual Halloween Horror Nights event, especially the Hollywood location. Initially featured as one of six scare zones in Hollywood’s 2010 event, and making an appearance on the Terror Tram, the Weeping Woman received her own haunted maze in 2011- La Llorona: Villa De Almas Perdidas (Villa of the Lost Souls). It was so well received that she returned in 2012 in the scare maze La Llorona: La Cazadora de los Niños (The Child Hunter). In 2013, La Llorona finally made an appearance at Orlando with the haunted house Urban Legends: La Llorona.

The highly detailed level of work that Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights brings to their haunted attractions brought La Llorona to life in a thrilling way, especially for those who grew up with her story. The mazes constructed in the likeness of popular horror movies usually gets most of the attention, but their original mazes are often even better. And as far as La Llorona is concerned, in pop culture anyway, Universal Studios was ahead of the curve.

Here’s to hoping for many more La Llorona inspired nightmares to come.

Horror journalist, RT Top Critic, and Critics Choice Association member. Co-Host of the Bloody Disgusting Podcast. Has appeared on PBS series' Monstrum, served on the SXSW Midnighter shorts jury, and moderated horror panels for WonderCon and SeriesFest.

Editorials

‘Arachnid’ – Revisiting the 2001 Spider Horror Movie Featuring Massive Practical Effects

Published

on

arachnid

A new breed of creature-features was unleashed in the 1990s and continued well into the next decade. Shaking off the ecological messaging of the past, these monsters existed for the sake of pure mayhem. Just to name a few: Tremors, The Relic, Anaconda, Godzilla, Deep Rising and Lake Placid all showcased this trend of irreverent creature chaos. Reptiles and other scaly beasts proved to be a popular source of inspiration for these films, but for that extra crawly experience, bugs were the best and quickest route. Spiders, in particular, led some of the worst infestations on screen in the early 2000s. And on the underbelly of this creeping new wave — specifically the direct-to-video sector — hangs an overlooked offering of spider horror: Arachnid.

In 2000, Brian Yuzna and Julio Fernández launched the Spanish production company Fantastic Factory. The Filmax banner’s objective was to create modestly budgeted genre films for international distribution. And while they achieved their goal — a total of nine English-language films were produced and shipped all across the globe — Fantastic Factory ultimately closed up shop after only five years. Arachnid, directed by Jack Sholder (Alone in the Dark, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, The Hidden) and based on a script by Mark Sevi, was the second project from the short-lived genre house. Yuzna was drawn to the concept largely because of its universal appeal; a monster was marketable in any region, regardless of cultural preferences or restrictions. There was also the fact that spiders give everyone a case of the heebie-jeebies.

By having extraterrestrial forces be the cause of the spiders’ mutism and immensity as well as other urgent problems within the story, Arachnid incidentally pays respect to Hollywood’s golden age of schlock filmmaking. The opening sequence indeed shows a stealth plane’s pilot (Jesús Cabrero) trailing a UFO and its translucent passenger to an island in the South Pacific, but the alien business is kept to a minimum going forward. There is no time to process this seismic revelation of life beyond Earth before moving on to the film’s central plot. 

arachnid

Pictured: Alex Reid, Chris Potter and Neus Asensi’s characters get trapped in the spider’s web in Arachnid.

Several months since the E.T. was last sighted — and after being snuffed out by one of its own accidental creations — a medical team from Guam heads to Celebes (better known as Sulawesi nowadays), in search of whatever is behind a new illness. The doctors (played by José Sancho and Neus Asensi) already suspected a spider bite, although they failed to consider the biter could be the size of a tank. With The Descent’s Alex Reid as the snarky pilot of this doomed expedition, one who has ulterior motives for accepting the job, the film’s core characters go off in search of a spider and, hopefully, a cure.

The title makes it seem as if there is only the one arachnid in the story, but once Chris Potter and Reid’s characters plus their team step foot on the island, they encounter other altered arthropods. Yuzna felt Sevi’s script needed more creatures along the way, especially before the spider showed up in full view. The bug horror commences as one gunsman succumbs to a burrowing breed of crab-sized ticks, and random characters fend off a horrific centipede with reptilian qualities. These are just the appetizers before the greatest arachnid of them all arrives. The late Ravil Isyanov, here playing a zealous but sympathetic arachnologist, becomes a human Lunchable for the spider’s eggs. And one of the doctors gets a face full of corrosive spider spew. So, there is no shortage of grisly predation in the film, with a few bits of the monsters’ handiwork possessing a haunting quality to them.

Shot quickly and cheaply, Arachnid is fast-food horror. It’s convenient and designed for immediate consumption, and will likely not linger on the palate. Usually there is not a lot worth remembering with these slapdash genre productions, however, this is one case of spider horror where the extra effort made a difference. Apart from the egregious use of digital imagery in the outset, Jack Sholder’s film primarily employs practical effects. And these are not rubber spiders dangling from strings or being flung at the actors, either. Fantastic Factory aimed much higher by securing DDTSFX (Pan’s Labyrinth, Hellboy II: The Golden Army) and creature designer and makeup artist Steve Johnson (Species, Blade II).

arachnid

Pictured: One of the spider’s web-covered victims in Arachnid.

Arachnid, while far from flawless, somewhat redeems itself by having chosen practical effects and animatronics over CGI, which had become the new normal in these kinds of films. And this class of creature-feature was definitely not getting the sort of advanced VFX found in the likes of Eight Legged Freaks. Steve Johnson’s spider was not the easiest prop to work with, and it lacks the movement and versatility of a digital depiction. However, there is no beating that sense of weight and occupation of space that makes a tangible monster more intimidating. Viewers will have trouble recalling the human characters long after watching Arachnid, yet the humongous headliner remains the stuff of nightmares.

Over the years, the director has spoken critically of the film. He originally held off on agreeing to the offer to direct in hopes that another project, a Steven Seagal picture, would finally manifest. No such luck, and Sholder accepted Arachnid only on account of his needing the work. He said of the film: “I thought I could […] make it halfway decent, but I discovered there wasn’t a whole lot I could do.” Nevertheless, Sholder’s experience as a director of not exactly high-brow yet still rather entertaining horror is evident in what he has since called a “dud.” While there is no denying the reality and outcome of Arachnid, even the most mediocre films have their strokes of brilliance, small as they may be.

Arachnid

Pictured: The poster for Arachnid.

Continue Reading