La cara oculta is a Colombian-Spanish coproduction, distributed by 20th Century Fox, the first Colombian feature to ever engage a Hollywood studio. It lasts exactly as long as it needs to, so that there’s no time to dwell on the numerous plot holes and contrivances, since everything happens so fast. The acting is less than stellar, but if you’re watching this late at night on television, you’re sure to have fun regardless. It’s the most blatantly manipulative thriller I have seen in some time, but there is no denying the wicked fun of its premise. I am more inclined to give La cara oculta a pass, however.
His previous feature is definitely not recommendable: Satan, based on the real-life case of a Bogotá killing spree that took place in a restaurant called Pozzetto, in 1986. "It’s the most blatantly manipulative thriller I have seen in some time, but there is no denying the wicked fun of its premise."
#The hidden face trailer movie#
To be fair, however, had the movie engaged us with better characters and actors – Martina García is beautiful, but she has only one facial expression and she has to use it too often – many of these questions could have been ignored.
There’s also the matter of exactly how long Belén could survive in her self-inflicted captivity, though the film addresses this issue by showing us that there’s canned food and a kitchen sink with dirty pipes inside her hidden room. Yet another wrinkle is that one of the cops – as generic as movie cops can get – is Fabiana’s ex-boyfriend, who takes a personal interest in protecting her. Also, the police immediately suspect him of murder, even though he was the one who contacted them and even though he shows them her video. Why he does so is unclear to me, since she leaves a video explaining to him why she left. The second is that, when Belén disappears, Adrián calls the police. The first of these is the sudden death of the German widow, who could have easily solved the predicament. But it’s also a story that requires a number of plot contrivances to work, and Colombian director Andrés Baiz does not do a very good job of selling the audience on some of these contrivances. It’s an attractive set-up for anyone who was brought up on a healthy dose of Tales from the Crypt or even Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Thus, she effectively traps herself in the room without a chance of getting out, eventually forced to witness her worst nightmare: Adrián with another woman, whom she can see through a one-way glass. She does so, but forgets to take the key with her, which remains under the couple’s bed. When he has an affair and she cannot overcome her jealousy, the German widow provides Belén with an idea: hide herself in the secret room and pretend she’s leaving Adrián, to see how he reacts.
Adrián and his former girlfriend, Belén, come to live together in this house, unaware of the room. He designed a secret room inside his house, where he could hide in case anyone came looking for him. The owner of Adrián’s house is the widow of a former Nazi officer, who hid away in Colombia like many Nazis did all over South America. This set up is maintained until around the 45-minute mark, when a long flashback reveals what actually happened (spoilers ahead). We’re led to believe that Adrián is some kind of Bluebeard figure, who has killed his old girlfriend and plans to do the same with his new one. This is familiar territory for a ghost story, and indeed, the opening of the movie, which is a red herring concealing the real plot, is the least interesting site. "La cara oculta one of those thrillers so dependent on a single plot twist, that to talk about it without spoiling it is futile." They start a passionate romance together, yet every time that Fabiana is alone in Adrián’s house, she feels the presence of someone else, watching her. An uncertain amount of time later, he’s drinking down his sorrow at a bar, where he hooks up with an attractive waitress, Fabiana (Martina García). Those who have not seen the film can go straight to the final two paragraphs.) At the start, we’re introduced to Adrián (Quim Gutiérrez), an orchestra conductor in Bogotá, Colombia, who has just been abandoned by his girlfriend (Clara Lago). (What follows is a spoiler-free synopsis, in the first paragraph, and then a discussion of the plot in its entirety. La cara oculta (literally, “The Hidden Face,” although it was released in the US as Bunker) is one of those thrillers so dependent on a single plot twist – on a distinctive plot element that comes late in the film as a surprise – that to talk about it without spoiling it is futile.