In Mexico, there is a legend told of La Loba, the Wolf Woman. From my understanding, La Loba is an old crone who collects the bones of animals out in the woods. Over time, she favoured collecting the bones of wolves. 

One day the old woman had enough bones so she decided to assemble an entire wolf skeleton. She began to sing while she worked and this caused the skeleton to gain muscle, blood and flesh. Once whole, the resurrected wolf would further transform into a woman and run free into the horizon. And so La Loba would repeat this process again and again.  

Of course, La Loba goes by other names, depending on which region you’re from and who is telling the story. To some, she’s La Trapea- The Gatherer. To others she’s La Huesera, which translates to bone collector.

Huesera: The Bone Woman is the debut film by Michelle Garza Cervera. It ran through the festival circuit, where it gained enough buzz to warrant a small theatrical release before landing on Shudder. 

Now, I will admit that I wasn’t sure what to make of Huesera: The Bone Woman after I first saw it. In retrospect, I wish I knew the legend La Huesera beforehand. It’s worth keeping in the back of your mind when viewing.

Huesera: The Bone Woman is not a traditional horror in any conventional sense. It is more what I call horror-as-a-metaphor (i.e.- Relic, His House) which, generally speaking, is not my favourite type of horror. But Huesera is tighter and better executed than most films that employ this storytelling technique. It knows exactly what it wants to say and how to say it.

Though Huesera: The Bone Woman is often billed as a body horror, it actually is more of a psychological thriller with body horror elements. It is also a slow burn that contains a lot of memorable images and a rather potent commentary on the social expectations surrounding pregnancy and the general lack of sympathy people face when dealing with postpartum depression.

The story revolves around Valeria (Natalia Solián), an expectant mother. We follow Valeria through the duration of her pregnancy, where we watch as she slowly gets stripped of various aspects of her identity. First, she is forced to give up her workshop- she makes furniture for a living- for fear of what the chemicals could do to the baby. Later, she is told not to smoke. Next, her husband stops making love to her because of his irrational fear of harming the baby. 

Then there is her jealous sister and doubting mother who remind her at their first opportunity about that time she dropped the neighbour’s baby down a set of stairs…perhaps causing the boy permanent brain damage.

Poor Valeria. It seems her pregnancy is full of bad omens. So the last thing she needs is to be stalked at inopportune times by a monstrous, faceless entity she first saw jumping from a balcony and shattering its legs. But damn, that thing crawls fast! 

Prepare yourself for a lot of bone cracking. At times this can be a weird, almost surreal, film; but there is actually a satisfying logic to all that is happening. 

I can’t say that I was particularly surprised by where the film headed, but I will say that I was taken aback by how foreign the storytelling felt once it got there. Not to spoil…but when a protagonist’s arc spins in this direction, it usually comes at the expense of our empathy. Yet in this film you continually feel for Solián’s doe-eyed Valeria through all the twists and turns because, despite her flaws, the no-win situation she finds herself in is of little fault of her own…and that’s kind of the whole point.  

But what is perhaps most impressive about Huesera: The Bone Woman is how much of Valeria’s life we get exposed to in 97-minutes. Throughout the film, she feels like a real person with a real history. Interactions within her own family suggest that she is seen as the irresponsible black sheep, though she’s clearly the favourite of her eccentric aunt. Her husband’s family treats her, to some degree, with more respect and they come across as better educated and well off financially. But when push comes to shove, it is obvious whose side they’d take. Valeria even has an estranged friend she reconnects with that gives us an important peek into her college years. Through good writing, casting and the visual construction of scenes, Cervera is able to pack a commendable amount of information in every frame. There is a lived life on display here. I feel like I know this woman.

I’ve read people online comparing Huesera: The Bone Woman to Rosemary’s Baby or The Babadook. But honestly, the film that kept coming to my mind was Swallow, a personal favourite of mine. If you haven’t seen Swallow, believe me when I say that this comparison is high praise…and would make for one heck of an interesting double-feature. 

(This might also make for a great comparative essay for some budding film school student. Just saying.)