‘La Llegada’ REVIEW: A Double-Edged Immigrant Horror Story
‘La Llegada’ REVIEW: A Double-Edged Immigrant Horror Story
Diego (Alberto Ammann) and Elena (Bruna Cusi) | Still from IMDb
In La Llegada’s opening minutes, a radio host’s voice fills the air, expressing admiration for Donald Trump’s planned Mexico border wall, aimed at keeping immigrants from crossing into the United States, as our characters Diego (Alberto Ammann), a Venezuelan urbanist, and Elena (Bruna Cusi), a contemporary dancer from Barcelona, prepare to depart for the airport to catch a flight and immigrate to the U.S. The radio host even goes so far as to pledge support for any crowdfunding effort to make the orange man’s dream a reality.
From the outset, the film's message about America’s hostility toward immigrants is clear — subtle as a car crash. In this context, Alejandro Rojas and Juan Sebastián Vásquez present a claustrophobic and stressful “horror” film where the monster is the U.S. immigration system and the victims are the immigrant couple struggling to maintain their composure as their lives hang in the balance. They endure a grueling interrogation that will determine whether they will be permitted to enter the “land of opportunity” and begin anew.
Though I don’t view a film’s messaging — whether too blunt or too subtle — as a weakness, as long as it fits within the larger framework of what the film is trying to achieve, it is crucial how it is presented. As for La Llegada, it favors quietness and intimacy. Aside from the opening and ending needle drops, there is no music in this film. There is not much dynamism in the camera work, as it prefers close-ups and shot/reverse shots to capture the many conversations between characters.
Bruna Cusi as Elena | Still from IMDb
The filmmaking is very uncinematic and sterile to a fault, like a dull immigration office. However, the experience that Rojas and Vásquez conceived puts you in proximity to the emotions — the anxiety, confusion, fear, and frustration — that Diego and Elena experience as immigration officers pry into their personal lives with invasive and, at times, humiliating questions.
Ammann and Cusi’s performances bring a rawness to the couple's dehumanizing nightmare. Every quiver of their voices, every nervous glance, and every moment of hesitation is palpable, drawing us into their world of dread. And herein is where the horrors lie — not in the traditional sense, but in the sense of vulnerability and powerlessness that characters endure in the face of a psychologically torturous system that views people as mere stamps and letters on a piece of paper.
The horror, though, begins to fade in the film’s second half, becoming less engaging as the focus shifts to the couple's relationship and the secrets they hide from each other. From the start, it already takes large logical leaps to place the couple in their difficult situation, portraying them as ignorant of immigration etiquettes and unprepared, as though they hadn’t anticipated this moment at all.
While this setup does allow the filmmakers to shed some light into the xenophobia and the challenges faced by immigrants at U.S. border crossings, it causes everything that follows to feel increasingly contrived. The shift in focus only worsens this, making the story feel even more forced and cruel to its subjects — not to mention, it turns the perspective upside down.
Suddenly, we’re seeing the situation through the cops’ eyes, dropping us in a position where we want the drama to spill and the motivations that could jeopardize their plans for a fresh start to be revealed. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, as it lends a degree of justification to the power-tripping and abusive behavior of the immigration officers questioning them, ultimately diminishing the film's emotional efficacy.
Alberto Ammann as Diego | Still from IMDb
While the film’s style is undeniably effective in creating an atmosphere of unease and reflecting the reality that immigrants face, its mundanity does not lend itself to the best cinematic experience. The stillness and sterility of the filmmaking, while contributing to the emotional weight, can feel monotonous at times. The lack of a dynamic visual approach and the relentless use of tight framing for the characters becomes so repetitive that I found myself getting excited when a simple pan was employed.
La Llegada is a demanding watch, requiring patience to appreciate its barebones stylistic choices. It may alienate some viewers— potentially causing them to doze off — as the film's commitment to realism and intimacy can sometimes overshadow any cinematic flourishes. But despite its monotony, the experience proves worthwhile for its unflinching look at human vulnerability and the tensile strength of emotions when subjected to intense pressure.
‘La llegada’ was one of the films screened at PELÍCULA>PELIKULA 2024. Manila Spanish Film Festival last October 06, 2024. The film festival will run until October 13, 2024. For the schedule of other screenings, visit the Instituto Cervantes de Manila’s Facebook Page.
