Rigorous analysis with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Built for film lovers who don't swallow Hollywood's marketing talk.
No editorial review on Claqueta Ácida yet.
We interview filmmaker Paco Plaza without filters in Valladolid after he received the Honorary PUFA. We review his career, his ghosts, and the hidden history of his cinema.
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«Ben Affleck directs a claustrophobic thriller where money cannot buy freedom, only the absolute certainty of failure.»
Jesse McKeown delivers a tale of geographic isolation disguised as a sea monster that barely manages to stay afloat in Under the Surface.
Odin Lagbert dissects Takashi Miike's Audition: a surgical treatise where horror doesn't reside in the needle, but in male complicity.
Diego Velasco delivers in The Whistler an exercise where resource scarcity lays bare the seams of the modern thriller.
Discover the release of Beware Boiúna in theaters and streaming.
Discover the release of Street Fighter in theaters and streaming.
Geno Marx serves up a platter of rotten ribs in 'Babybacks,' a gore-laden disaster with more fat than script. Art? Not even in your wildest nightmares. Fun? Only if you enjoy pain.
A dark fable by Jang Joon-yeop that dances between the poetic and the pretentious. A choreography of shadows and silences, but it lacks the teeth to bite.
The third day of the **Valladolid Fantastic Gateway (PUFA 2026)** was less a film marathon and more a *social experiment*—a rollercoaster where the festival, like a hoarder Frankenstein, stitched together scraps of marginal genius, digital autopsies, and Freudian nightmares to serve up a four-course tasting menu that, as a whole, tasted like *cheap whiskey and expired Xanax*. From the **FUNDOS Auditorium**—a cinema temple reeking of spilled beer and screenwriters’ shattered dreams—to the **Broadway Cinemas**, where the Official Selection tried (and failed) to convince us that psychological horror is still a noble genre, July 6th was a masterclass in how contemporary cinema can be *simultaneously mesmerizing and nauseating*. And no, that’s not a compliment.
The kickoff of the third edition of **PUFA** (*Pucela Fantástica*) at **Broadway Cinemas** proved that horror isn’t just on the screen. From the initial chaos in the lobby to the revelations and ironies of the speeches, the opening day was a rollercoaster of emotions, bottled guts, and pure Spanish fantasy cinema history.
The second day of PUFA 2026, Valladolid’s genre film festival, brought together unsettling classics like *Who Can Kill a Child?* and exciting newcomers like *Went Up the Hill*—though "exciting" might be a stretch.
Chicho Ibáñez Serrador crafts this Spanish nightmare where children are the monsters. Corrupted innocence or pure evil? Claqueta Ácida dissects this cursed classic.
An Australian mystery with more holes than a Swiss cheese and less tension than a telenovela episode. Claqueta Ácida dissects this suspense fiasco with a scalpel and a side of sarcasm.
Natalie Erika James serves up a chilling dish: a gothic nightmare about dysmorphia and ravenous ghosts. Too pretentious or just macabre enough?
Paco Plaza teams up with Carlos Vermut to deliver his most restrained and stylized film yet. A disturbing yet breathtaking intergenerational duel between Almudena Amor and Vera Valdez, swapping cheap scares for the real horror of time’s passage. We break down why this pivot to "elevated horror" deserves high marks under our microscope. 💀
*The Japanese Whisper No One Asked For (And Everyone Deserved to Ignore). Kiyoshi Kurosawa dives into domestic horror with *Chime*, a series that whispers more than it screams and bores more than it terrifies. Art or visual nap time?*
When the corn turns red and Frendo the clown sows terror with a grin from ear to ear. Eli Craig grows horror in a rotten cornfield: a killer clown, insufferable teens, and a harvest of clichés.
Fabrice Du Welz and his shadow ballet in the Belgian underworld. Du Welz delivers a gothic thriller teetering between visual virtuosity and baroque excess—155 minutes of nightmare and obsession.
Kim Ki-duk tears through Korea with *The Island*: a visual poem of violence, silence, and love that hurts more than a thousand razor blades. 9.0 out of sheer exquisite suffering.
Madison travels to Thailand in search of "authenticity" and ends up in an Instagram thriller where likes taste like blood. Art or self-promotion with filters?
Curry Barker delivers this 'masterpiece' of teenage obsession with more holes than a Swiss cheese. Love or stalking? The line was never this blurry (or this poorly lit).
*A Journey into the Abyss of Hate. A devastating critique of the film that drags us into the depths of racism and violence in a fractured California.*
David Lynch turns fatherhood into an industrial nightmare of viscous textures and drowned screams in 89 minutes of pure analog body-horror. Art or cinematic miscarriage? We dissect it here.
Aleksandr Boikov serves up a gourmet horror menu in 'The Last Supper,' but the main course tastes like thin gruel. Art or self-indulgence? Valeria Von Doom carves it open with a scalpel.
