Reviews
‘Párvulos’ Fantasia Review – Coming-of-Age Horror Fantasy Frames Apocalypse from Kids’ Perspective
Director Isaac Ezban (Evil Eye, The Similars, The Incident) continues exploring themes of family through a fantasy horror lens with his latest, Párvulos. As its title indicates, roughly translating to pre-schoolers or toddlers, the coming-of-age dystopian fable follows three young brothers, practically newborn babes, discovering the perils and pleasures of life after a world-ending pandemic. Ezban reinvigorates a well-worn setup and subgenre with style and poignancy, framing a classic zombie apocalypse story from the naïve, impressionable, and whimsical eyes of children.
Párvulos introduces one-legged teen Salvador (Farid Escalante Correa), downing worms as he sets about a bizarre series of chores while teaching younger brother Oliver (Leonardo Cervantes) and baby brother Benjamin (Mateo Ortega Casillas). The peculiar rituals aren’t the only sign that normalcy long ago ceased in this virus-ravaged world: decayed bodies hang in the yard in front of the boys’ rural country home. The brothers live in isolation, caught between childhood innocence and survival. Salvador dutifully tries to impart responsibility on his younger brothers, but there’s a dark secret in the basement that threatens their fragile way of life when Benjamin’s curiosity overrides safety.
Ezban, who co-wrote the screenplay with Ricardo Aguado-Fentanes, takes time to acclimate viewers to the boys’ world and perspective. There’s a stunning contrast to Párvulos beyond its monochrome visuals with strategic bursts of color. It’s in the way the boys bicker over movies or pet frogs, like typical children, juxtaposed with the callous way they hunt a stray dog; Salvador demands they then learn how to skin it. It’s also in the way that tender-hearted Benjamin ropes his siblings into taming dangerous monsters, reading them fairy tales in between feedings of hunted flesh. Dystopian cinema often reinforces our inherent need for human connection, but framing this dystopia from the perspective of young children who don’t fully understand the world, even before it came crashing down, creates a dark, affecting portrait of resilience and unbreakable family bonds.
The almost whimsical fantasy gives way to dark horror. Ezban doesn’t hold back on it, either. Salvador, Oliver, and Benjamin may be ultimately sweet but naïve kids, but this world isn’t. Párvulos doesn’t shy away from gore or putting the children in peril. Safety is never guaranteed, especially when the brothers frequently play with dead things they shouldn’t, and Ezban ensures this coming-of-age story comes with appropriately harsh life lessons without ever losing its poignancy. As the horror escalates and the plot barrels toward its finale, more familiar zombie apocalypse tropes and story beats distract from the film’s originality and unique explorations of family bonds.
This horror fantasy is at its strongest when focused on the brothers. Correa’s Salvador is a fascinating character forced into raising his brothers yet still hasn’t reached adulthood himself. The burden of responsibility breeds bitterness, tempered by Salvador’s youthful naivete and unwavering love for his brothers. Casillas’ Benja brings the dangerously adorable level of playfulness that constantly puts them all in danger, while Oliver bridges the two with an even-keeled gentleness. It’s their carefully curated character work that gives Párvulos the emotional heft to stick its devastating landing.
This coming-of-age horror fantasy gets bleak, as dystopian tales tend to, with Ezban plunging three young boys into gruesome, harrowing scenarios. But it’s offset with bursts of levity, whimsy, and a sense of impressive style that sets this post-apocalyptic story apart, even when familiar hallmarks creep in.
Párvulos made its world premiere at Fantasia International Film Festival. Release TBA.
Movies
‘Recluse’ Review – Harrowing Haunted House Horror With Lots Of Skeletons In Its Closet [Tribeca 2026]
A haunted house story is tense, terrifying storytelling when it’s properly executed. There’s been a growing tendency in horror to blend together harrowing haunted house stories with traumatic homecomings. A family member’s illness or death triggers a return to something dark that was intentionally left behind. Recluse hits all the tropes that one expects to find in this type of horror film, yet it manages to push this story in a daring, disturbing new direction that uses sound as a superpower.
It’s a unique lens to experience a familiar story about family secrets, generational trauma, unresolved grief, and the importance of not just legacy, but preservation. It’s a hell of a directorial debut from Henry Chaisson that’s guaranteed to get under the audience’s skin as they’re dragged through this painful, toxic tale.
Recluse is a gothic haunted house story where an isolated audio engineer, Joan (Sasha Frolova), returns to her family’s estate to check in on her father after he suffers a terrible accident. Joan suddenly discovers something much more sinister that paints her family’s tragedies in a very different light. Chaisson’s debut functions as a fascinating companion piece to this year’s undertone, which does a lot of the same things.
These two films make for a fascinating case of parallel thinking that tackles comparable subject matter through a similar lens, albeit in a bigger, less claustrophobic story in Recluse’s case. In fact, it’s the perfect horror film for anyone who was let down by undertone and didn’t feel like it brought enough to the table. It’s a considerably more conventional horror film, but this isn’t meant to denigrate its high quality. Recluse may hit some familiar notes, but it’s a scary, well-crafted haunted house horror story that goes for the jugular.
A gripping mystery that involves the tragic, unresolved circumstances that surround Joan’s mother teases a chilling connection to the recent horrors that have afflicted her father. Joan desperately tries to put these pieces together and give her family some sense of grander peace before she’s pulled under and becomes another victim of this festering curse that’s systematically worked its way through the Wyatt family. By doing so, Recluse digs into some deeper commentary on collective trauma, a very literal look at the “sins of the father” adage, and how one selfish decision can ripple through generations and fracture off into different dilemmas. By the end, Recluse has brilliantly flipped the powerful concept of legacy on its head by illustrating the horrors and sense of entitlement that can be born out of this idea.
A legacy is just another name for a curse under the right context.
”Listen” is a simple but powerful command from Joan’s father that she briefly obsesses over. In a way, it becomes Recluse’s grander mission statement, whether it’s in response to Joan listening to the people in her life, the signals that her body and mind are telling her, or the world’s greater whims. It’s important to reconnect with these grounding pillars, especially when it feels like control is slipping away.
Recluse excels with how audio and soundscapes can create entire universes that are full of rich details that transport individuals to these environments. There’s also a level of objectivity when it comes to audio recordings and the evergreen permanence that they’re able to provide. Joan’s career as an audio engineer makes sense for someone who wants to cling to hard evidence and proof of existence. It provides great insight into Joan without ever getting lost in contrived exposition.
Joan’s entire life is built around audio engineering, and so it makes sense that Recluse features excellent sound design that really goes above and beyond with its production elements. All of the sound design is expertly handled and turns the film into something special. These auditory elements intuitively keep the audience on edge so that they’re more susceptible to the actual scares that eventually strike. The smallest sound effect gets turned into a crushing, cacophonous assault. It’s a really effective way to build terror. Writer/Director Chaisson also handles the film’s music, which achieves a sublime, unnerving dissonance that further heightens the free-floating anxiety.
The story at the center of Recluse is slightly generic in some respects, but the film’s visual language and tone make it feel distinctly memorable. It also doesn’t hurt that the home that Joan returns to is basically an eerie art studio that’s full of contorted paintings. Recluse never struggles to generate mounting dread and terror that pump through every scene. Powerful, thoughtful cinematography consistently reinforces the film’s themes. Joan is constantly reflected in different surfaces or viewed through mirrors. She’s also often confined to tight, constricting framing that all speaks to her refracted identity during this moment of loss and her attempts to regain agency and control by making sense of something that’s seemingly unexplainable.
Recluse is full of truly disturbing visuals that make it seem like Joan is lost in a dream that turns out to be an extended nightmare. It’s a surreal journey reminiscent of invasive psychological horror like Silent Hill, with a touch of Sinister and Hereditary thrown in for good measure. There are so many individual frames that could endlessly fuel urban legends and creepypastas.
It does a great job with how it presents Joan’s fragile state of mind, where chilling flashes of the past sneak up on her and unresolved trauma manifests into unsettling imagery. There are endless shots that are obscured in darkness, or shadow is creeping in from the corners of frames like a suffocating force of nature. It’s very rare that a scene is fully lit. It leads to a very lonely, isolating atmosphere that’s easy to get lost in.
Chaisson’s debut stands out from the many other high-minded haunted house horror films without succumbing to the same pretensions that often drag down these stories. It’s a grief-stricken character study that’s full of upsetting visuals that scratch at something visceral and raw. The horror elements connect, and the answers to its grander mystery provide an appropriate and believable sense of closure. Those who are looking for an atmospheric horror film that isn’t afraid to be different while still channeling something real will appreciate Recluse.
Recluse made its world premiere at Tribeca; release info TBD.
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