Main cast: Emeraude Toubia (Rosario Fuentes), José Zúñiga (Oscar Fuentes), Diana Lein (Elena Fuentes), Emilia Faucher (Young Rosario), Paul Ben-Victor (Marty), and David Dastmalchian (Joe)
Director: Felipe Vargas

Let’s start with a compliment, because even the most cursed spirits deserve one before they’re banished: Rosario is gorgeous. The lighting? Chef’s kiss. The cinematography? Richer than Rosario’s hedge fund clients. The wardrobe? Immaculate. This film looks like a Vogue shoot broke into a séance.

Clearly, someone gave the production some serious coin, maybe a well-dressed demon investor who said, “Sure, I’ll fund this… but only if the third act turns into a Scooby-Doo exorcism.”

Because friends, after that opening glow fades, this movie becomes a jump scare buffet, where the only thing being served is tired horror clichés, reheated in the microwave of mediocrity.

Rosario Fuentes finds herself stuck in her dead grandmother’s apartment overnight, with grandma’s corpse still lounging like it paid rent.

Then spooky things happen. Because horror. That’s it.

That’s the setup. And it sounds promising until Rosario starts reacting to paranormal phenomena like she’s mildly inconvenienced by a traffic jam.

Seriously. This woman meets a demon and her face says, “Oh no, I forgot to buy oat milk.” Ghost slams a door? She sighs and rolls her eyes like it’s a mild draft. If I stubbed my toe, I’d react more dramatically than she does when reality starts melting around her.

And let’s talk decision-making. Rosario, Queen of Bad Life Choices, googles “how to defeat ancient Afro-Catholic spirits” and then proceeds to do what the internet tells her, because surely WebMD for the damned has all the answers. She reads aloud from ancient, clearly cursed tomes like she’s trying to summon a DoorDash order and just keeps doing dumb things. The entire time I found myself rooting not for her survival, but for the demon to hand her a “You Tried” sticker and send her to the cornfield.

The scares? Imagine someone sneaking up behind you with a paper bag and popping it every five minutes. That’s this movie. BOOM! Scary noise. BANG! Something moves. BOO! It’s the camera angle now. You could set your watch to the jump scares—and still fall asleep before the payoff.

There’s a twist at the end, of course — because of course — where the demon wins, because apparently demons have unions now and must get at least one victory per feature. It lands with the grace of a goat falling downstairs. You see it coming from the halfway point, but the movie still treats it like it’s the second coming of The Sixth Sense.

David Dastmalchian pops in as the weird neighbor who exists purely to remind you, “Hey, look! You’ve seen me in better movies!” He contributes about as much to the plot as a haunted house cat: there, occasionally creepy, mostly pointless.

Bottom line: Rosario is the horror equivalent of buying a designer handbag and discovering it’s full of dryer lint and disappointment. If you enjoy watching a protagonist make every wrong choice like it’s her kink, this might be your thing. For everyone else, this is a great movie to watch with the lights on, while scrolling your phone, wondering where it all went wrong.