Director: Juanma Bajo Ulloa
Screenplay: Juanma Bajo Ulloa, Eduardo Bajo Ulloa
Starring: Karra Elejalde, Ana Ălvarez, Lio, Silvia MarsĂł, Elena Irureta, RamĂłn Barea
Country: Spain
Running Time: 111 min
Year: 1993
BBFC Certificate: 18
Juanma Bajo Ulloa caught the directing bug early, making short films at 14 years old with his younger brother Eduardo (their parents reportedly remortgaged their house to help pay for some of these). Their films began as super-8 productions, before graduating to 16 mm and, eventually, Juanma made Victorâs Kingdom (a.k.a. El reino de Victor) in 35 mm and won several awards for his troubles.
This acclaim helped Bajo Ulloa move on to feature filmmaking, with his debut being Butterfly Wings (a.k.a. Alas de mariposa) in 1991. This dark tale was another hit with critics and he followed it up in 1993 with The Dead Mother (a.k.a. La madre muerta). This also proved popular on the festival circuit but Bajo Ulloa surprisingly turned his hand to a much more commercial film after this, Airbag (1997), which was a smash hit in Spain.
For whatever reason, Bajo Ulloa’s career moved instead towards music videos and commercials following this. He did direct a few feature films in between, but these didn’t receive the same level of acclaim as his first two. As such, he’s a figure in Spanish cinema that has drifted out of the memory of most cineasts.
If The Dead Mother, which is being released on Blu-ray by Radiance Films, is anything to go by though, Juanma Bajo Ulloa is a name we should all be more familiar with.
The film opens with a botched robbery, where Ismael (Karra Elejalde) kills a painting restorer and shoots her daughter.
We flash forward 15 or 20 years and Ismael is still up to no good, thieving and killing, then spending his evenings squatting in an abandoned house with his abused girlfriend Maite (Lio).
One day, Ismael comes across the girl, Leire (Ana Ălvarez), whom he shot during that robbery so many years ago. Though she survived the shooting, her injury and the trauma of the event caused her to become mute and mentally impaired. Though she has the body of an adult, she acts like a toddler. Despite not being able to talk, Ismael still worries that Leire might identify him and turn him in to the police.
So, Ismael kidnaps Leire, planning to get a ransom before killing her to keep her from causing him trouble. However, the criminal finds himself drawn to her and canât bring himself to do the act. This causes Maite to get extremely jealous, causing great problems for her boyfriend.
Meanwhile, Blanca (Silvia MarsĂł), who is Leireâs nurse, attempts to save the impaired young woman from her captors.
The Dead Mother is a beautifully crafted, stunningly cinematic film that explores the darker corners of humanity. It centres around an evil man who initially believes the world is sh*t and his victims deserve to die. He then, however, meets someone truly innocent who is so due to his own actions. He becomes fascinated and eventually infatuated with her.
Itâs a complex relationship that makes for deeply involving viewing and the film plays with expectations throughout. For instance, when you first meet Maite you see her as a victim of Ismael’s violent temperament and, for a moment, you think she might be Leireâs salvation but she ends up becoming possibly the most evil figure in the film. Likewise, Blanca looks set to be our heroine but things don’t quite go to plan.
Instead, we are presented with a cruel and violent man as our chief protagonist. It’s a difficult balancing act to pull off but Bajo Ulloa’s direction and Karra Elejalde’s performance create a despicable character that you can’t help being drawn towards.
Aiding this tricky feat of storytelling are subtle splashes of humour, from Blanca’s incontinence problems to various gags involving chocolate (a key link between Ismael and Leire). The murder of an elderly lady is the best example though, being a brilliantly conceived sequence with more than a hint of the Coen Brothers in its blackly comic approach. The film has a taste of their style throughout, in fact.
Actually, Elejalde had previously been known for his comic roles, so casting him in this as such a villain was a bit of a gamble. Happily, it paid off, as heâs remarkably good and seems perfectly cast. Thereâs a standout scene that recalls his past career, where he dons makeshift clown makeup and goofs around, attempting to make Leire laugh.
Ălvarez had a child of her own at the time, aged around 2, so she observed him and used some of his movements, expressions and gestures as inspiration for her performance, as well as those of young people with conditions such as cerebral palsy and Downâs syndrome. Itâs a powerfully believable and tender performance, even if some of todayâs âsocial crusadersâ might prefer the character to have been played by someone with a genuine disability. Personally, Iâd have thought the physically difficult things the character has to go through would be too much for someone with a mental impairment though.
Bajo Ulloa was only 26 when he made The Dead Mother, yet his direction is remarkably assured. There are plenty of elaborate setups but these rarely seem inserted purely for styleâs sake and never get in the way of the storytelling or character-building on screen.
It looks sumptuously gothic, aided by gorgeous cinematography by Javier Aguirresarobe and exquisite production design by Satur Idarreta. This is further complemented by a grand, lushly orchestrated score by Bingen MendizĂĄbal. As such, the whole film is a treat for the eyes and ears, despite the disturbing content.
On the whole, The Dead Mother is a strikingly impressive, pitch-black psychological dramatic thriller with dashes of humour and horror. Itâs a masterful film that deserves to be much better known.
Film: 
The Dead Mother is out on 18th September on all-region Blu-Ray, released by Radiance Films. The transfer is impeccable. Tonally rich, with beautifully handled blacks, itâs a detailed, beautiful image. I’ve used screengrabs throughout this review to give you an idea of how it looks. It sounds gorgeous too, with Bingen MendizĂĄbalâs score coming through with depth and clarity.
LIMITED EDITION BLU-RAY SPECIAL FEATURES
– 4K restoration of the film supervised and approved by director Juanma Bajo Ulloa
– Uncompressed stereo 2.0 audio
– Audio commentary by Bajo Ulloa
– The Story of The Dead Mother – a documentary on the making of the film featuring behind-the-scenes footage and interviews with the cast and crew (2008, 38 mins)
– Victorâs Kingdom [El reino de Victor] – Goya Award-winning short film by Ulloa, restored in 4K (1989, 38 mins)
– Gallery of behind-the-scenes and promotional imagery
– Trailer
– Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Time Tomorrow
– Limited edition booklet featuring new writing on the film by Xavier Aldana Reyes, author of Spanish Gothic: National Identity, Collaboration and Cultural Adaptation, and newly translated archival writing by Juanma Bajo Ulloa, co-writer Eduardo Bajo Ulloa and an appreciation by Nacho Vigalondo
– Limited edition soundtrack CD featuring Bingen MendizĂĄbalâs sumptuous score [exclusive to the limited edition]
– Limited edition of 3000 copies, presented in full-height Scanavo packaging with removable OBI strip leaving packaging free of certificates and markings
The best extra here has to be the soundtrack CD. Bingen MendizĂĄbalâs score for the film is gorgeous, so itâs a real treat to be able to listen to it at your leisure. Itâs not available anywhere else, certainly not on any streaming services, so the Limited Edition release is worth the retail price just to get the CD, in my opinion. Grab it quickly, before it goes out of print.
In his commentary, Juanma Bajo Ulloa talks in detail about his approach to making the film, discussing the cinematic techniques used to tell his story, as well as the themes in general. It’s a strong track, for the most part, though he does occasionally fall back on describing what’s happening on screen, which is a bugbear of mine. He tends to add some deeper thoughts on the actions though.
Running around 38 minutes, âThe Story of The Dead Mother’ is a fairly detailed documentary with plenty of behind-the-scenes footage, interviews and even clips from Ana Ălvarez’s audition. The piece is largely split into sections, looking at different key scenes, characters and locations. It’s a valuable piece, though, be warned, it spoils the film so make sure you watch it afterward.
Victorâs Kingdom is an elegantly directed short chiller that plays with the traditions of fairy tales. In the film, a boy and a young woman are kept shut in an old house with the boy’s abusive father, whilst a younger man secretly squats in the house with them. Atmospheric and compelling, with a dash of humour thrown into the mix, it’s a welcome addition to the set and complements The Dead Mother perfectly.
The booklet begins with a poem by co-writer Eduardo Bajo Ulloa (Juanma’s brother) that puts a spin on the Little Red Riding Hood fairy tale to reflect the intentions behind The Dead Mother. Juanma provides a more directly aimed essay on the film which itself is near-poetic in style, as well as a brief, unusual piece later on. Nacho Vigalondo, director of the excellent Timecrimes, writes about how the film impacted him when he first saw it, particularly how it portrayed Vitoria, where he had always spent his summers as a child. Critic Xavier Aldana Reyes ends the booklet with a thoughtful analysis that discusses the film’s place in the ‘joven cine español’, a movement that saw a resurgence in young, exciting directors in Spanish cinema.
Overall then, Radiance have given this first-class film the first-class treatment. You owe it to yourself to check it out and make sure you get one of the Limited Edition sets, if you can.
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