We Are the Flesh

For every moment of sick visceral genius (e.g. whenever Hernandez or Evoli are left to their own devices), there's another of clumsy metaphor (e.g. the limp punchline of the movie's final minutes).

Viewers expecting a garden-variety horror flick will likely recoil, but those seeking new voices in Mexican cinema may well hail Minter's effort.

Mr. Rocha Minter, who is in his 20s, has obvious filmmaking talent, but he is also, to judge by this evidence, a sensationalist dilettante with a mean streak.

Filmgoers who brave We Are the Flesh may regret seeing it. Forgetting it is another matter entirely.

There's genuine artistry even to this film's most exploitative moments.

A brief synopsis... barely hints at the intensity with which the Mexican shocker We Are the Flesh unleashes its joyously demented portrait of humanity.

We Are the Flesh could inspire evenings of fervent disputation and interpretation, but first there needs to be an audience for it, and for this? I'm not so sure. There was once a time, though.

Despite the dark, perverse and twisted approach, the film is a statement that celebrates freedom and struggles against social boundaries and conventions. [Full review in Spanish]

Regardless of how complete or failed, it's an evidence of a creativity that strengthens the industry and gives us enough to talk about. [Full review in Spanish]

A downpour of shock, but pointless at the end, even if you want to make us believe otherwise with its swirl of colorfully retouched secretions. [Full review in Spanish]

The great achievement of the film is that it manages to create enough interest to immerse itself more than once in this surreal world full of caricature characters, madness and disgust. [Full review in Spanish]