‘When Evil Lurks’: Review

Dir/scr: Demian Rugna. Argentina. 2023. 100mins

When two brothers come up against an ancient evil that threatens their rural Argentine town, the stage is set for a gory genre showdown. Just as he did with his inventive, award-winning 2017 Terrified, writer/director Demian Rugna takes his premise to its extremes, pushing past traditional horror tropes and into increasingly uncomfortable territory. It is a gory and, at times, very unsettling watch, but Rugna has a striking vision that stands apart in the overstuffed demonic possession sub-genre.

Viewers of a sensitive disposition may not make it to the end credits

That will help When Evil Lurks reach genre fans when the film is given a limited October 6 release in the UK and US, going up against the similarly-themed big budget Exorcist: Believer in a bold counter-programming move that could pay off thanks to strong word of mouth (the film has already caused a stir in TIFF’s Midnight Madness, Sitges and Fantastic Fest). It is likely to hit an even richer seam on Shudder when it debuts on October 27, just in time to lure the Halloween crowd.

When farming brothers Pedro (Ezequiel Rodríguez) and Jimmy (Damian Salomon) hear gunshots in the dead of night, they know enough not to investigate until the sun comes up. That, together with the fact that their discovery of a dismembered human torso is met with matter-of-fact resignation, is the first hint that something is rotten in this place. Quite literally, it turns out; at a neighbouring farm, the pair find the eldest son is a bloated, oozing mess — a so-called ‘rotten’, who has been possessed by a parasitic demonic entity that intends to use the body to give birth to pure evil.

Effects work is gruesomely effective — a plethora of puss, boils and bile obliterating this man’s recognisably human features and turning him into a monster. He begs the brothers and local landowner Ruiz (Luis Dziembrowski) to kill him, but there are official rules that must be followed in order to stop this viral evil spreading — including that the rotten must be exorcised by a state sanctioned ‘cleaner’. (Other rules include no use of electric lights, staying away from animals, never touching a rotten and never calling evil by its name.)

If the notion of rules for survival is reminiscent of Zombieland, so are some early moments of dark humour. Fed up of waiting for the authorities to deal with the situation — the inhabitants of this backwater are, it is suggested, not worth any official assistance —  Pedro, Jimmy and Ruiz determine to remove the decaying man and dispose of him far from town. Attempts to move the swollen body are almost slapstick, but that is where the comedy ends. Far from ridding the town of evil, their actions only make things worse and when Pedro decides to head to his ex-wife’s home and rescue his children, all hell breaks loose. His eldest son Jair (Emilio Vodanovich) is autistic and non-verbal – although the film struggles to realise the potential of this plot strand, and some may find this representation rather blunt-edged.

Unlike other possession narratives, this is not a straight battle between good and evil. Rugna has created a world where religion, churches — and indeed faith — have been rendered utterly obsolete, and humanity is left alone. Pedro and Jimmy make one stupid decision after another; these are no altruistic heroes, just messy, selfish protagonists with a determination to protect their loved ones at all costs. Rodriguez and Salomon ground the spiralling narrative in human emotions. Just because they know the rules does not mean they have the strength to follow them when presented with such terror.

There are several truly shocking moments in When Evil Lurks which upend the normal taboos involving animals and children; viewers of a sensitive disposition may not make it to the end credits. These are no lazy jump scares, however. As he did in Terrified, also beautifully lensed by Mariano Suarez, Rugna lays his world bare, forcing his audience to observe all of its horrors and simply watch them to unfold — often in broad daylight — in glorious, grotesque detail.