Beatriz

In a windswept mountain valley of mid‑nineteenth‑century Spain, isolated villages cling to ancient customs while shadows of superstition linger in every stone courtyard. The rugged landscape frames a world where faith and fear coexist, and even the most tranquil homes are haunted by whispers of unseen forces. An atmosphere of quiet dread settles over the region, hinting that the line between the ordinary and the uncanny is thinner than the villagers would like to admit.

When a traveling monk is forced to flee after a violent encounter, he seeks shelter within the venerable estate of the widowed noblewoman Doña Carlota. The countess, devoted to charity and bound by a sense of duty, welcomes the cloaked traveler into her modest household, where she lives with her thoughtful son Juan and his bright‑spirited sister Beatriz. Within the stone walls of the manor, the monk’s presence becomes a catalyst, drawing together contrasting personalities—a skeptical youth, a protective mother, and a wandering cleric whose motives remain an unsettling mystery.

Across the courtyard, the household’s servant Basilisa is consumed by a desperate hope to save her ailing newborn son. In a desperate bid for a miracle, she turns to forbidden rites, summoning a dark presence that demands an innocent soul. Beatriz is chosen, and an unsettling change begins to shadow the teenager, stirring unease among those who know her. Suspicion subtly drifts toward the monk, whose arrival now feels as ominous as it is providential.

The film moves with a measured, lingering rhythm, allowing the mist‑laden scenery and the interplay of belief, doubt, and hidden longing to breathe. Characters are drawn together by fragile alliances and quiet tensions, each carrying their own secrets beneath a veneer of piety and duty. As the story unfolds, the audience is invited to linger in the spaces between faith and folklore, never quite certain which force will claim dominion over the souls gathered within the manor’s ancient walls.

Last Updated: December 04, 2025 at 18:07