Tigers Are Not Afraid is a 2018 Spanish horror thriller about a gang of five children trying to survive the horrific violence of the cartels and the ghosts created every day by the drug war.
The brutal gang and drug wars of Central and South America are, on film, a bit romanticized by Hollywood action films that often take to showing off heroes saving the day. However, the reality is a much more troubling and escalating horror of violence and destitution that often goes untold, or at least, properly understood in media, with one of the more devastating collateral damage being the children of those killed in the fray. Director Issa López‘s newest film is a heartening look through the eyes of such victims, desperately trying to survive on their own in the dark corners of a world in total chaos.
In a northern border town of Mexico, young Estrella (Paola Lara) lives with her mother. It’s a place ravaged by violence, the children in school routinely crouched under their desks as gunfire erupts in the streets. One day, as the students write fairy tales in class, a terrifying volley of shots ring out and the kids once again clamor for safety. Amid the screams, the weeping teacher crawls to Estrella and puts three broken pieces of chalk in her tiny hand, telling her they are wishes. Later, when Estrella comes home, her mother is gone, and the worst is implied, so the girl makes her first wish, but this is not a place where dreams come true. Escaping into the streets, she joins a small crew of other children like her, led by a young boy named Shine (Juan Ramón López), who is more hardened by this landscape as any should possibly be. Meanwhile, a line of blood seems to follow where Estrella goes, the voices of the dead reaching out to her alone.
What’s perhaps most affecting about López’s film – which she also wrote – is how well it clings to authenticity while painting much of the truth in the colors of childhood. Murals and graffiti come to life, imagery of animated animals and monsters springing to life along the walls, demons in the dark that come to speak much about who these kids are. But by no means is this a children’s movie in any conventional sense. This is jarring stuff with Shine, for example, demanding of Estrella a kind of rite of passage that no little kid should have to face. The fact that the task comes from a child who has come to such demands is just as horrifying.
We tend to think of child actors in a certain way, often as simply unskilled or inexperienced enough to truly be convincing. Sure, every so often, one comes along that shifts perceptions and as such, they are rightly celebrated, yet with this young cast, it’s almost shocking how on point these children are, with Lara especially impactful. She’s a wonder. López balances their fear and confusion with an incredibly potent thirst for survival, never letting them lose their innocence while they become besieged by unimaginable strife.
Filmed on location, there is a deep, gritty realism to Tigers Are Not Afraid (Spanish: Vuelven), and while it has touches of illusory horrors like that of a Guillermo del Toro film, López separates her work with a defining sense of credibility that seems to keep it just this side of fantasy. It’s magical while at the same time, highly distressing, simply because it is grounded by what we know is real. Children are immensely adaptable and find small joys and glories wherever they can, living with no guidance other than what gets them through the day. It’s heartbreaking.
Tigers Are Not Afraid is not always easy to watch. Nor should it be. However, it’s never not utterly captivating, breathlessly charged by its trauma and striking visual storytelling prowess. Beautifully photographed by Juan Jose Saravia and hauntingly scored by Vince Pope, this is a remarkably emotional experience, one that cuts deep.