The Frida Cinema Blog Post #7

Hispanic Heritage in Film: Spain’s Art House Directors

The Frida Cinema celebrates Hispanic Heritage Month by honoring the Hispanic and Latino heritage in film. In this series of blogs, we’ll be highlighting Hispanic/Latino talent both in front of and behind the camera, and the impacts of these individuals on—and legacy in—film.

Spain's Art House Directors
Víctor Erice’s El Espiritu de la Colmena (1973); Luis Buñuels L’Age d’Or (1930); Pedro Almodóvar’s Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988)

Part 4: Spain’s Art House Directors

Pedro Almodóvar, Victor Erice, and Luis Buñuel are all critical to the evolution of Spanish art house cinema due to the artistic and political significance of their films. Luis Buñuel began in the infancy of the Spanish art house culture following World War Ⅰ—when the world was definitely ready for an artistic liberation. European artists of the Dadaists and Surrealist movements saw film as another avenue of expression, giving birth to avant-garde cinema. One of the most notable works of this era is Buñuel’s collaboration with surrealist artist Salvador Dalí, Un Chien Andalou (An Andalusian Dog). Sadly, this era would be cut short by The Spanish Civil War (1936-1939), The dictatorship of Francisco Franco (1939-1975), and World War Ⅱ.

Under Franco, films were subjected to severe government censorship or made into pro-government propaganda. Tragically, many pre-civil war films were lost or destroyed. In 1962 the era of the New Spanish Cinema began. Young filmmakers like Victo Erice, with anti-Franco sentiments, fought government censorship and the possibility of their films being banned. Erice’s film El Espiritu de la Colmena (The Spirit of the Beehive), heavily critical of the government, barely passed censorship standards. It became one of the greatest films in Spanish cinema.

The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie
Luis Buñuel’s The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972)

After Franco’s death in 1975, Spain became a democracy and loosened censorship, resulting in a flood of new and edgier talent. Pedro Almodóvar emerged in the counterculture movement of La Modovida Madrilena (The Madrid Scene). Sophisticated melodramas like Women of the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown challenged many social norms. Across generations, each director shows the continuing strength in Spain’s art house culture as it continues to thrive—currently in the horror genre.


Luis Buñuel

Luis Buñuel

Reggie Peralta: A cosmopolitan who worked at various points in France, Mexico, and his native Spain, it might come as a surprise to some that Luis Buñuel originally hailed from Calanda, a small town in the backwater province of Aragon where, as the director would later quip, “the Middle Ages lasted until World War Ⅰ.” Even more surprising—or perhaps telling—is the fact that the director, an avowed atheist, was deeply religious for much of his youth, participating in Mass and Communion every day well into his teens.

These provincial and parochial influences would, ironically, serve him well over the course of his 50 year career. Also of great service was his college friendship with Salvador Dalí. While Bunuel’s relationship with the avant-garde artist would eventually fray, the two would collaborate on Un Chien Andalou, a surrealistic short film meant to evoke a Freudian dream. Crafted with the specific intention of insulting the cultural intelligentsia he so hated, the filmmaker was flabbergasted when the movie ended up as (and indeed remains to this day) a favorite of the very class whose members’ sensitivities he set out to mock.

It is this desire to pour scorn and poke fun at social and cultural elites that unifies much of Buñuel’s filmography. From early experimental films like The Golden Age (L’Age d’Or) to more conventional comedies like El Gran Calavera, there are few directors who have taken as much delight in skewering the chattering classes as Bunuel did, and even less who have done it as inventively.


Trailer for Un Chien Andalou (1929)


Though a committed leftist, he also refused to buy into the fallacy that being poor or underprivileged necessarily made one noble. The young protagonists of his social realist drama Los Olvidados, for example, are hoodlums who rob and brutalize those weaker than them, while the beggars taken in by the angelic title character in Viridiana wind up taking advantage of her in the truest sense of the phrase.

For his efforts to reconcile his scathing social critiques with powerful visuals that make sense on an intuitive rather than logical level, Buñuel was able to influence everything—from the way music videos are edited to other filmmakers like Woody Allen, Guillermo del Toro, and Gasper Noe—a remarkable feat that deservedly secures him a place on this list.



Victor Erice

Victor Erice

Sean Woodard: Spanish director Victor Erice’s approach to exploring the intricacies of childhood in The Spirit of the Beehive and El Sur is simply magical. In both films he uses cinematic language to replicate the fantastical imaginations of children and contrast them with the traumatic realities of life. His closest peer in this respect may be Mexican director Guillermo del Toro. The Spirit of the Beehive also manages to capture how cinema can be a visceral, life-changing art form.


Trailer for The Spirit of the Beehive (1973)



Pedro Almodóvar

Pedro Almodóvar

Adrienne Reese: Pedro Almodóvar’s influence transcends film, delving deep into the very personal faculties of human existence. As a director, screenwriter, and producer, he is not only an influential figure in Spanish-language cinema, but his contribution to film history worldwide cannot be overstated; he has explored everything from LGBTQ themes, horror, the drama and comedy of life, freedom and captivity, and identity, His distinct and impactful way of portraying women and femininity in his films is inimitable.

Almodóvar is a true auteur. To me, his films play out like Spanish manifestos—providing an education on the life of Hispanics in the diaspora. The beauty and pain he captures in these creations are relatable to viewers who exist both within and outside of that community.


Watch Pedro Almodóvar direct a scene in The Skin I Live In (2011)

Having directed, to name a few, such cult classics as Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988), All About My Mother (1999), and The Skin I Live In (2011), Pedro Almodóvar’s very specific voice has garnered him multiple Academy Awards for both Best Foreign Language Film and Best Original Screenplay, as well as international recognition for his celebrated filmography: 21 titles and counting.



The Frida Cinema Blog Post #6

Hispanic Heritage in Film: Maverick Directors

By Justina Bonilla

The Frida Cinema celebrates Hispanic Heritage Month by honoring the Hispanic and Latino heritage in film. In this series of blogs, we’ll be highlighting Hispanic/Latino talent both in front of and behind the camera, and the impacts of these individuals on—and legacy in—film.

Maverick Directors


Part 3: Maverick Directors


America has historically been a major trailblazer to technical and artistic innovations in film. While Hispanics/Latinos had some on-camera representation during the Golden Age of Hollywood, their opportunities behind the camera were minimal;  Only a few names are known today: Gabriel Figueroa (The Fugitive and Night of the Iguana), special/visual effects artist and stop motion pioneer Marcel Delgado (King KongThe Wizard of Oz, and Mary Poppins), and assistant director Francisco Day (The Ten CommandmentsSamson and Delilah).

The 1950s and early 1960s saw a rise in studio A and B classic Hispanic/Latino-American films such as GiantRequiem for a Heavyweight, and West Side Story. The studio culture of the time, however, heavily restricted Hispanic/Latino directors’ access to real directing work. Undeterred by the mindset of the major Hollywood studios, Hispanic/Latino-American directors began to emerge in late 1960’s with the rise of independent film directors like George A. Romero. In the late 1970s/early 1980s, more groundbreaking Hispanic/Latino-American films and directors, telling stories with distinctive creative styles, emerged—including playwright Luis Valdez. The 1990’s saw a boom of Hispanic/Latino talent in entertainment, such as action filmmaker Robert Rodriguez.


Robert Rodriguez (Mexican-American)

Robert Rodriguez

Trevor Dillon: Robert Rodriguez is important to the careers of many filmmakers for three simple letters: DIY. In the early 1990s, when the independent film boom was happening, Rodriguez was at the very forefront (with contemporaries Richard Linklater, Kevin Smith, and good pal Quentin Tarantino) telling young kids to go do it themselves; get out there and make the movie YOU want to make. Even if it means you have to do the writing, directing, producing, shooting, editing, and scoring on a movie. It worked out pretty well for him: Rodriguez’s debut film, El Mariachi, was famously made for $7000 without a single film permit. It spawned two sequels: Desperado and Once Upon a Time in Mexico, essentially cementing the idea that he made a whole franchise from nothing.

Clip from Sin City (2005)

I could list off his entire œuvre, like how he directed Sin City or the extremely underrated Sci Fi/Horror film The Faculty (obviously a personal favorite of mine), but Rodriguez’s legacy remains in the filmmakers he inspired rather than the movies he’s made. He resides now in Austin, Texas, where he has his own aptly named studio: Troublemaker. He has his own cable network: El Rey. This “one man film crew” has done quite well for himself.


George A. Romero (Spanish/Cuban-American)

George A. Romero

Justina Bonilla: “The Father of the Zombie Film,” best known for starting the modern zombie era, scored his first official directing job in the least likely of places—Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. Public television’s beloved Fred Rogers believed in a young George A. Romero enough to give him a credible platform to cut his teeth as a director. Later, Romero co-wrote and directed his first full length, low-budget film Night of the Living Dead (1968). The film captured the fear of the turbulent 1960s, commenting on the brutality of the Vietnam War and social revolution. Initially the film did not intend to focus on civil rights or race issues, but in casting an African American as the leading man/hero—during the civil rights era—and releasing the film months after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Romero unintentionally created a strong commentary on civil rights.

Clip from Night of the Living Dead (1968)

Despite major studios rejecting Night of the Living Dead due to its intense violence, the film’s independent release shocked audiences. It ignited an artistic revolution which led to a slew of zombie and horror films including Romero’s sequel Dawn of the Dead (1978). This film commented on the zombification of consumerism. Romero went on to become a “Godfather of Horror,” directing other zombie films, co-creating the horror television series Tales from the Darkside, and collaborating with Stephen King in the beloved horror anthology movie Creepshow (1982).

Night of the Living Dead is credited as one of the most important horror films and independent films in film history. Despite the film’s initial rejection, Romero’s vision of zombies is now the standard, as seen in The Walking Dead and World War Z.


Luis Valdez (Mexican-American)

Luis Valdez

Justina Bonilla: Before the “Father of Chicano Theatre” directed some of the most important films in Chicano, Mexican-American, and Hispanic/Latino-American film history, Luis Valdez was born to migrant farm workers in a labor camp. Growing up in this environment, Valdez experienced the unjust exploitation of farm workers at the hands of wealthy land owners (he worked in the fields since the age of six). Finding his passion for writing and theatre, Valdez strove to use his art to entertain and advocate for his fellow farm workers. In 1965, working with civil rights leader and co-founder of the National Farm Workers Union Cesar Chavez, Valdez developed the small acting troupe El Teatro Campesino (The Peasant Theatre). They entertained and educated the striking farm workers though small play productions, boosting morale during the long strikes. This small acting troupe later developed into a professional production company in San Juan Bautista, California.

Trailer for La Bamba (1987)


In 1979, through his experience with theatre, Valdez wrote and directed the musical play Zoot Suit in Los Angeles to critical acclaim. It was the first Chicano-written play to open on Broadway. Soon after, in 1981, Valdez wrote the screenplay for and directed Zoot Suit, his first feature film. It explored the topics of media sensationalism, ethnic identity, and systemic racism. He broke into mainstream America with La Bamba (1987), his biographical film of pioneering Mexican-American/Chicano rock ‘n’ roll star Richie Valens. The film was a box office smash, proving that Hispanic/Latino stories and Hispanic/Latino-led films can succeed in mainstream America. In 2016, Valdez was awarded the National Medal of the Arts by President Barack Obama for his contributions to film and theatre.



The Frida Cinema Blog Post #5

Hispanic Heritage in Film: Mexico’s Golden Three

Mexico's Golden Three

The Frida Cinema celebrates Hispanic Heritage Month by honoring the Hispanic and Latino heritage in film. In this series of blogs, we’ll be highlighting Hispanic/Latino talent both in front of and behind the camera, and the impacts of these individuals on—and legacy in—film.

Part 2: Mexico’s Golden Three

In 2013 history was made at The Academy Awards as Mexican director Alfonso Cuarón became the first Latin American to win the Oscar for Best Director. Since then, five out of the six wins for Best Director have been Mexican born directors—two wins each for Cuarón and Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu, and one for Guillermo Del Toro. This Mexican trinity of talent has created a strong ethnic presence in a major Oscar award category, with Best Cinematography also seeing a rise of winners and nominees from Latin America. The whole world is now seeing the wide range of talents Hispanics/Latinos have to offer. These three directors (AKA “three amigos”) represent a new wave of talent with more to come.

Guillermo Del Toro

Atalia Lopez: An iconic and visionary director of contemporary horror and fantasy, Guillermo del Toro is an easy choice to make when thinking about essential figures in Mexican cinema. With his origins in the film industry coming from makeup and special effects (he studied under the legendary Dick Smith), Del Toro’s mastery of the macabre is matched only by his ability to instill humanity in the monsters he creates.

As a director, Del Toro’s œuvre reveals an obsession with monsters, ghosts, and supernatural beings, both sinister and misunderstood. In his directorial debut Cronos (1993), Del Toro incorporates a perspective that will become fruitful territory for him: children navigating and interacting with supernatural beings and creatures. His use of the Spanish Civil War in The Devil’s Backbone (El Espinazo del Diablo, 2001) and Pan’s Labyrinth (El Laberinto del Fauno, 2006) shows the interplay between children and the supernatural, all against the backdrop of broader historical battles against fascism.

Clip from The Shape of Water (2017)

His comic book adaptations Blade II (2002), Hellboy (2004), Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008), and giant-monsters-vs-giant-robots blockbuster Pacific Rim (2013) put the director at the helm of big budget franchises. But it is The Shape of Water (2017), Del Toro’s most acclaimed and personal film, that brings together all of the hallmarks of the filmmaker’s style and sensibility, with an intentional celebration of old Hollywood (both its iconic monsters and its iconic love stories). Winning Best Director and Best Picture at the 2018 Academy Awards, The Shape of Water is a truly original piece of cinema, a film where dual love stories (between woman and monster, filmmaker and films) reveal that we cannot choose who we fall in love with any more than we can choose our true calling – for Del Toro, making films that reach beyond our understanding of what is monstrous is his calling.

Alfonso Cuarón

Sammy Trujillo: In 2003, Mexican director Alfonso Cuarón stated he left Mexico “for artistic survival. If I had stayed, I would have been forced by the government, who control the movie business, to direct TV shows or commercials or infomercials for the government.” Cuarón’s frustrations with government censorship in Mexico arose from a lawsuit he filed over the government’s 18+ rating of his 2001 film Y Tu Mama Tambien. Facing adversity had become commonplace for Mexican filmmakers, who relied almost entirely on government funding to finance their projects. Before that, the government limited the distribution of his first film, Solo con Tu Pareja and blocked funding for other projects.

Born in Mexico City in 1961, one could see how skepticism of authoritarianism serves as a recurring theme in his films. When he was 9 years old, the government launched attacks on a student protest in Tlateco. When he was 10, the government recruited young men to slaughter a slew of protesters in the Corpus Christi massacre. The PRI (Institutional Revolutionary Party) controlled Mexico as a one-party state and would continue to do so until 2000. Despite this, none of Cuarón’s films have an overt political agenda. Instead, Cuarón examines the political turmoil of Mexico and finds beauty in the mundane. To an unfamiliar audience, Y Tu Mama Tambien is a simple road trip film, with only brief allusions to the PRI’s political collapse. Yet, the changing political landscape of Mexico surrounds even the most apolitical shots of the film.

Clip from Roma (2018)

After the critical and commercial success of the 2013 film Gravity, Cuarón turned down many offers to direct blockbuster films. Instead, he returned to Mexico to film the semi-autobiographical Roma. The film, in many ways, serves as an olive branch to repair the burned bridges with the Mexican government. As a love letter to his upbringing in Mexico, Roma spares no expenses when criticizing the government, including a jaw-dropping recreation of the Corpus Christi massacre. But the film’s real beauty lies in the long shots and deep focus of casual life in the suburbs of Mexico City. Accompanied by diegetic music, Roma‘s intimate portrait of Cuarón’s childhood reflects on his most important memories as a young boy, the abandonment of his father, the witnessing of a forest fire, and attending the films that shaped his cinematic vision. By framing these memories from the perspective of a poor, indigenous housemaid, Cuarón acknowledges the racial, classist, and gendered wounds hidden in Mexico that may not have been apparent to him in his upbringing.

The Mexican government also appears to be willing to mend fences with Cuarón, having made Roma their official selection for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Film. Perhaps the decision came from a recognition of Cuarón’s influence on Mexican cinema. After becoming the first Mexican director to win the Academy Award for Best Director for his 2013 film Gravity, Alfonso Cuarón launched a trend in which 5 of the past 6 Academy Awards were won by Mexican directors.

Alejandro González Iñárritu

Trevor Dillon: Ever since his debut film in 2000, Alejandro González Iñárritu has cemented himself as one of Mexico’s finest filmmakers. The beginning of his career saw the trilogy of Amores Perros (2000), 21 Grams (2003), and Babel (2006). All are hard-hitting emotional feats that garnered Iñárritu great reviews and tons of acclaim. They all tell international stories about the human condition, mostly focusing on the misery of life.

Clip from Birdman (2014)

Just when we thought his ambition couldn’t be topped, in the mid-2010s he released the extremely difficult one-two punch of Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) and The Revenant. For these Iñárritu won the Best Director Academy Award two years in a row, becoming the first to do so in over 60 years. Where he will go from here with his career is something film fans wait on bated breath for. How will Alejandro González Iñárritu close out this second magnificent trilogy?



The Frida Cinema Blog Post #4

Hispanic Heritage in Film: Pioneering Actors

The Frida Cinema celebrates Hispanic Heritage Month by honoring the Hispanic and Latino heritage in film. In this series of blogs, we’ll be highlighting Hispanic/Latino talent both in front of and behind the camera, and the impacts of these individuals on—and legacy in—film.

Mural of Dolores del Rio
Mural of Dolores del Rio by Alfredo de Batuc. 6529 Hollywood Blvd. Los Angeles, CA

Part 1: Pioneering Actors

Hispanics and Latinos have been involved in American cinema since the silent era. However, many of the early Hispanic/Latino characters were predominantly negative Mexican stereotypes—violent male villains, sexual immoral women, and the dumb and/or drunk peasant. These images were seen as propaganda against all Hispanics/Latinos, prompting a massive backlash. Hispanic/Latino communities across America boycottedthese films and their studios. Latin American governments abroad proposed boycotts. The issue became so heated that President Woodrow Wilson intervened, telling the Hollywood studio heads to “Please be a little kinder to the Mexicans.”

As a result, Hollywood created more diverse and positive images for Hispanic/Latino actors—the “Latin lover,” Latin comedians, and the strong-willed Latina. Names like Ramon Navarro, Lupe Vélez, Anthony Quinn, and Rita Hayworth were immortalized on Hollywood sidewalks. Along with these stars rose three multi-talented actors whose impact would heavily influence film and American pop culture.

Dolores del Río

Dolores del Río (Mexican)

Darren Cassidy: Marlene Dietrich called Dolores del Río “the most beautiful woman who ever set foot in Hollywood.” Nonetheless, along with Greta Garbo, Mae West and Katherine Hepburn, del Río found herself added to the infamous “Box Office Poison” list. This and her breakup with Orson Welles figured large in her decision to return to her native Mexico and “stop being a star and become an actress.” Upon arrival, she met director Emilio “El Indio” Fernández. The pair made four highly successful and influential Spanish-language films together including Flor Silvestre and María Candelaria, the latter becoming not only the first Mexican film to be screened and to have won the Grand Prix in Cannes, but the first Latin American film ever to do so. Her staggering success during Mexican cinema’s Golden Age led to renewed interest from Hollywood.

Actually casting del Río, however, was impossible; too many of the the wrong people in the United States suspected her of being a Communist, in part because of her close association with artists Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. The later part of her career saw del Río branching out into production and theater. In 1957 she became the first woman to sit on the jury at Cannes and in 1966 she founded the Society for the Protection of the Artistic Treasures of Mexico. In 1978, she was finally recognized by President Jimmy Carter as a Cultural Ambassador of Mexico in the United States, and publicly acknowledged as one of the many victims of McCarthyism.



Ricardo Montalbán

Ricardo Montalbán (Mexican)

Justina Bonilla: Ricardo Montalbán was first discovered by MGM studios through his starring roles in Mexican films. He became famous as the handsome “Latin Lover” in the musicals and lighthearted comedies of Hollywood’s Golden Age. Wanting to show the full range of his acting abilities, Ricardo acted in dramatic roles in B-films and supporting roles (both American and Foreign), Broadway, radio, and television.  Through television he would establish his two most iconic roles—the mysterious Mr. Rourke on Fantasy Island and the villainous Khan Noonien Singh in the original Star Trek series.

Later, Montalbán would star in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan and become one of the most menacing villains in movie history. In 1970 he co-founded Nosotors, a non-profit organization for promoting positive Hispanic/Latino talent in the entertainment industry, both in front of and behind the camera. Ricardo Montalbán is beloved for his iconic roles and his determination to help uplift and reshape the images of Hispanic/Latinos in media.



Sammy Davis, Jr.

Sammy Davis, Jr. (Afro-Cuban American)

Justina Bonilla: The multi-talented Sammy Davis, Jr. was a singer, musician, dancer, actor, producer, vaudevillian, and comedian who did spot-on celebrity impressions. In 1954, after years of touring with The Will Mastin Trio, he was featured on TV’s The Colgate Comedy Hour, establishing himself as a solo performer. A year later, in January of 1955, Sammy released his debut album, Starring Sammy Davis Jr., to success and praise. He then acted in a series of successful lead and supporting film roles, including Anna Lucasta, Porgy and BessOcean’s 11, and Robin and the 7 Hoods. Davis became a member of the famous Las Vegas “Rat Pack” group (which included Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Joey Bishop, and Peter Lawford), who in the 1950’s where the epitome of cool and talent.

During his career, Sammy was politically and socially controversial for his open stance against segregation, his conversion to Judaism, and his marriage to May Britt, a white actress. After the era of the Rat Pack ended, Sammy continued to act, sing, and be politically active. Sammy Davis Jr. is known for so many things, but will always be loved as simply “Mister Show Business.”


The Frida Cinema Film Event Post #26

Dolemite Is My Name

Dolemite Is My Name

Comedy legend Eddie Murphy makes his long-awaited return to the big screen in the highly-anticipated Rudy Ray Moore biopic Dolemite Is My Name.

Desperate to restore his flagging popularity, Moore creates the outlandish stage persona Dolemite to revive his stand-up career. After recording several successful comedy albums featuring the character, Rudy, is inspired to make a film focusing on him. With the help of a crew of misfits, Moore is able to overcome limited filmmaking experience and the judgmental doubt of naysayers to create one of blaxploitation’s most iconic films.

Based on an unbelievably true underdog story, Dolemite Is My Name boasts a screenplay by Emmy Award-nominees Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski as well as a supporting cast that includes Wesley Snipes, Chris Rock, and Keegan-Michael Key.

“Dolemite is a movie that gives us a lot to look back on, both historically and in the case of Murphy’s long life in Hollywood – but I also think we still haven’t seen the extent of what Murphy can do.” – K. Austin Collins, Vanity Fair

“As its title character might put it, Dolemite Is My Name, is a total mother-kin’ blast.” – Owen Gleiberman, Variety

“Dolemite Is My Name kicks off the Eddie Murphy comeback that’s been a very long time coming.  And this comic biopic is a blast from start to finish.” – Sara Stewart, New York Post

The Frida Cinema Film Event Post #25

The Evil Dead: 4K Restoration

Evil Dead


Join us for Sam Raimi’s beloved horror favorite The Evil Dead, restored in vivid 4K.

A group of young adults go to a small cabin in the middle of the woods for a fun getaway. Their adventure turns to terror after they discover the Necronomicon and inadvertently play a chant that resurrects demonic spirits. It’s up to Ash (Bruce Campbell) to save the others and survive the night against some unspeakably evil enemies.

Earning plaudits from none other than horror legend Stephen King, The Evil Dead is a campy classic that is as gory as it is comical.

“While injecting considerable black humor, neophyte Detroit-based writer-director Sam Raimi maintains suspense and a nightmarish mood in between the showy outbursts of special effects gore and graphic violence which are staples of modern horror pictures.” – Variety

“Horror masterpiece is gory, but silly.” – Common Sense Media

“…The most ferociously original horror film of the year…” – Stephen King

The Evil Dead
Bruce Campbell as Ash in The Evil Dead.


The Frida Cinema Film Event Post #24

The Omen: 4K Restoration

The Omen


October programming continues with the bone-chilling 1976 classic The Omen, beautifully restored in 4k.

Heartbroken over the stillborn death of his child, American diplomat Robert (Gregory Peck) secretly adopts an orphan newborn and passes him off to his wife as their biological son. Naming the boy Damien, they move to England where a series of horrific events occur, making Robert suspicious of who Damien really is. Can Robert stop his son’s reign of terror, or will Damien triumph?

Hailed as one of the best horror films of the 1970’s, The Omen lives up to its reputation with its shocking scares and hauntingly memorable score by Jerry Goldsmith.

“…This 1976 horror film about a juvenile Antichrist contains some of the most memorable deaths in movie history.” – Anna Baddeley, The Telegraph

“…stands alone as a wonderful horror thriller.” – Felix Vasquez Jr., Cinema Crazed

“It was the performance of Harvey Stephens as the young Damien that invested the film with the chill of genuine credibility.” – David Parkinson,

The Frida Cinema Film Event Post #23

Night Train to Terror

Night Train to Terror

Get ready to go off the rails with the cult 1980’s horror anthology Night Train to Terror.

A group of teenagers pass the time on a train by partying and dancing, unaware that the vehicle is destined to crash at dawn. At the same time, God and Satan contemplate three stories of human nature and bicker amongst themselves as to who will take the teens’ souls. Who will prevail when dawn comes around and the music stops?

Bloody and outlandish, Night Train to Terror is a low-budget film that only could have been made in the 80’s. Possessing a certain arresting absurdity, it’s little wonder that some have compared it to Plan 9 from Outer Space.

“In a decade where anything and everything went, Night Train of Terror had it all.  The best part is, it’s not just a single movie, but three films crammed into one.” –

“This colorful B-movie oddity is a uniquely ‘80s production, the lunacy of which is refreshing.” – Anthony Pernicka,

“Night Train to Terror (1985) makes for a good Wednesday night at the bro’s.” – Melissa Antoinette Garza, Scared Stiff Reviews




Article #27:

John Oliver Sheds Light on a Dangerous Reality Many Patients Face

On the August 18 episode of “Last Week Tonight with John Oliver,” satirist John Oliver discussed the impact bias in medicine can have on people seeking medical care. He went into detail about how gender and/or race can impact a person’s access to appropriate health care and treatment. John emphasized how, for many, these biases can be the difference between life and death.

According to the April 24, 2012 article from The Wall Street Journal featured on the show, “women [were] seven times more likely to be misdiagnosed… and sent home from the hospital…” for a heart attack. Women are perceived by many as being chronic complainers, thus their situation is not taken seriously.

A textbook for nurses, which was only pulled out of circulation just two years ago, was also featured on the show due to its bluntly inaccurate racial/ethnic misconceptions of how non-White patients identify pain. This “information” could reinforce inaccurate perceptions of ethnic patients, making it difficult for them to get a proper diagnosis.

At the end of the episode, with the help from comedic legends Wanda Sykes and Larry David,
John included a list of steps the medical industry could take to combat bias in medicine, including:

  1. Standardized care
  2. Having doctors and medical students taking non-bias training
  3. Having more diversity in the medical field

And, most importantly, emphasized patients to advocate for themselves.

As a female Mexican-American, I’ve experienced this bias first hand, especially in regards to my fibromyalgia. During an initial consultation by a top pain specialist in our area, he told me I didn’t appear to have fibromyalgia, despite several confirmed diagnoses, because I was not on heavy pain killers (I’m severely allergic to prescription and over the counter pain killers). Also, my back pain was a combined result of puberty “growing pains” and my heavy menstrual cycles. I was just exaggerating the pain to get out of school. His only recommendation was counseling for my “hypochondria.”

On another occasion, a middle school nurse implied bias against my Mexican immigrant mother, asking Mom if my medications in the health office were “from Mexico.” My family were patients of a local and prominent integrative doctor, an MD who is educated and licensed to practice a combination of mainstream and holistic medicine. While the “medications from Mexico” were holistic pain and acid reflux medications from France (with “Made in France” on the bottles), without consulting my doctor to verify the medications, she called Social Services claiming that my parents were poisoning my brothers and I with unregulated and possibly illegal medicines from Mexico. Thankfully, with the help of our attorney, the credibility of our doctor and extensive medical records, we verified our situation and Social Services closed the case, finding no abuse. As for the nurse, she was not at the school the following school year.

Today, I have a small team of doctors/medical professionals who I trust. However, I still see bias affect my health care, especially if I have to go to new doctors/medical professionals. Consequently, if I have to go to a new doctor, I take my medical documentation, verifying my health issues. On the rare occasion I must go to ER, I go with some else to help advocate for me if I’m too ill to help myself so I don’t suffer from a negative consequence due to a doctor’s potential bias. Better safe than sorry.

Mr. Oliver, thank you for discussing and bringing to light this constantly overlooked, very uncomfortable and heartbreaking reality many patients, including myself, face in the medical system.

It’s important to note there has been critiques and/or criticisms about this episode after he pointed to medical issues that are more common in some groups. For example, Native Americans and African Americans are more likely to have diabetes than Non-Hispanic White Americans and Asian Americans. However, I believe these critics are missing the overall message. If there is bias on the end of the medical provider, it increases the chance of misdiagnosis, mistreatment and lethal consequences for a significant portion of the population. And that is both the point of the segment and the call to action to fix it.

You can watch the episode below:




The Frida Cinema Film Event Post #22

Snoopy, Come Home

Snoopy, Come Home poster

Highlighting Hispanic directors, The Frida Cinema presents a second film from Mexican-American animation ground-breaker Bill Melendez. Melendez animated for Disney and Warner Brothers, but is best known for directing the original Peanuts movies, including the beloved Snoopy Come Home.

Snoopy receives a surprise letter from Lila, his former owner. She asks Snoopy to keep her company while she is hospitalized. The manic, fiercely loyal beagle and his bird pal Woodstock (making his Peanutsfeature film debut), go to be with Lila, but encounter multiple obstacles—“No Dogs Allowed” signs are an all-too-frequent motif—they are briefly incarcerated at the home of Clara, an animal-crazy little girl. They finally make it to the hospital, where Snoopy is able to comfort Lila until her discharge. Feeling bad about leaving Lila alone, Snoopy decides to leave his home with Charlie Brown to be with her. Charlie and his friends throw a tearful farewell party for Snoopy. As he leaves to live with Lila, Snoopy wonders—despite Lila being his original owner—has his real home been with Charlie all along?

A heartwarming story for Snoopy fans of all ages, Snoopy Come Home is among the best cinematic renderings of the sacred bond between canine and human.

“Most of the reasons we all loved the TV specials are well-served by the second film in the series.” — Paul Chambers, Movie Chambers

“Adventure-filled Peanuts journey has some sad moments.” — Renee Schonfeld, Common Sense Media

“After seeing Snoopy, Come Home, the second animated movie feature derived from the Charles M. Schulz comic strip, Peanuts, all we can say is, Snoopy for President and Woodstock for Veep!” — Howard Thompson, New York Times (context of this quote)