Maligno (Rosas Productions, 1977) builds tension with masterful patience and detail, not because it relies entirely on the payoff of its devilish finale, but because Celso Ad. Castillo wants to submerge the viewer in paranoia. Through his meticulous study of characters, their naturalistic mannerisms and peculiarities, and the weight he applies to even immaterial trivialities, Castillo constructs a very real sense of horror. Through it, he raises an atmosphere of instability that counteracts his picture’s supernatural menace with a practical skepticism, almost in the same moment that he confirms our worst, most unimaginable fears. Not until the final act does the film reveal itself as a tale of supernatural terror. Though perhaps Maligno remains more alarming for its depiction of a housewife trying to regain agency over her pregnancy and herself. But before any talk of occult conspiracies, Castillo spends about an hour outlining his characters, their relationships, eccentricities, insecurities and desires. The film’s details consume us, such as how three-dimensional these characters feel. Paolo (Dante Rivero) tries to behave like an understanding husband sensitive to his wife’s needs, but his apologetic control of Angela (Susan Roces) is apparent, no matter how much he seems to be grappling with some inner guilt about his impulses. Elsewhere, Blanca (Celia Rodriguez) fusses over Paolo and Lucas Santander's (Eddie Garcia) friendship during lunch with Angela. The credit for some of these details belongs to the actors who bring their characters to life. Watch Blanca in her keen surveillance of Angela or the way she bounces with excitement. But Castillo also layers seemingly inconsequential conversations with curious facets that prove significant later.
Realistic mise-en-scène shrouds the elements of horror in a Celso Ad. Castillo film, so that which remains suspect also feels too real and inconsequential to possibly delve into horror territory. His scares arise not from supernatural origins, but from psychological possibility, the horrible things people will do if so compelled. Castillo specializes in obsession and madness, particularly those supplied within a limited space. The film’s dizzying, hallucinatory dream sequences continue to puzzle as Castillo constructed them so much like actual dreams, not typical soft-filtered movie dreams, but an overexposed nightmare of mish-mashed imagery. Voices seem to penetrate Angela’s consciousness, as if Castillo were showing us two truths at once. Images flow in and out of frame. Nothing makes logical sense, and yet it all congeals in an effortless sort of way. Hints to Angela's Catholic upbringing and religious images in her dreams warn of ingrained religious-based fears, countered by the delusional thought that something sinister plots against her. Castillo implants the notion that Angela has fallen prey to hysterics, so the viewer begins to doubt its misgivings about the suspicious behavior of those around her. Roces is phenomenal, tapping into maternal fears and sense of distrust with full vulnerability. She carries this film on her shoulders, even as everyone tries to push her further down, Angela remains headstrong and resilient. Rodriguez’s scene stealing performance is at once comical and foreboding. Rivero’s acting opportunities open up almost immediately. Paolo is a likeable person, you can’t help but emphatize with. Garcia is impeccably cast as Lucas. His performance is one of the great marriages of character and actor in the genre. Castillo has taken a most difficult situation and made it believable, right up to the end. Angela is forced into the most bizarre suspicions about her husband and we share them and believe them. Because Castillo exercises his craft so well, we follow him right up to the end and stand there.
Production Designer: Peter Perlas
Sound Supervision: Rudy Baldovino
Film Editor: Augusto Salvador
Director of Photography: Loreto U. Isleta F.S.C.
Screenplay: Celso Ad. Castillo, Dominador B. Mirasol
Music By: Ernani Cuenco
Directed By: Celso Ad. Castillo
