Anthology films can be a great way to showcase the talents of under-represented filmmakers and provide an avenue for short films to actually be commercially distributed. Typically, they will feature a common theme or wraparound story and in this case, Mexico Barbaro uses Mexican folklore as a unifying factor for the segments. As with any anthology some entries will outshine others, but what’s most important is the overall quality of the collection itself.

There are a total of eight entries, half incorporating supernatural elements into the stories and half focusing on themes of real-world horror. The first segment, Tzompantli, is an example of the latter and tells the story of a journalist who takes a dangerous meeting with a member of the Narcos to get information about the disappearance of a group of youths. This entry has particular real-world resonance as 43 Mexican college students did in fact go missing the same year this film was released. As far as the entry itself, it is not only well done and effectively bloody, but also draws interesting parallels between modern day cartel activity and ancient Aztec sacrifices. My chief complaint would actually be that it ends too abruptly and feels more like the beginning of a feature-length film than a stand-alone short.

On the supernatural side, the segment Jaral de Berrios delivers the most effective paranormal chills with a story of two old west bandits who hide out in a cursed building. This is the one entry that is most likely to instill you with a genuine sense of fear and is helped tremendously by excellent sound design and some very creepy atmosphere. Drain, on the other hand, does provide a decent amount of dread but falls a little short on delivering legitimate fear with it’s story about a teenage girl who’s blackmailed by a demon into doing an unsavory task.

Dolls was the only segment I felt an actual sense of disappointment with. It lacked creativity and originality compared with the other entries and brought up weird questions in the process. For instance, “Why cook a severed arm with a rubber doll? Are you eating the doll too? What the fuck is happening here!?” That being said, the fact that the filmmakers incorporated an incredibly creepy real-world location from Mexico, Island of the Dolls, for the short was very cool to see. On the flip side, the segment That Precious Thing delivers a very well-structured story about a teenage girl who goes to a cabin in the woods with her boyfriend to lose her virginity. It also incorporates some great 80’s style goo effects with some surprisingly dark subject matter.

What’s not surprising was the fact that the stand-out entry was from none other than Lex Ortega, who would unleash his gloriously brutal feature-length debut Atroz the following year. His segment about a little girl who’s scared of a local homeless man titled What’s Important is Inside is not only brilliantly conceived but also definitively plunges the entire collection deep into Extreme Cinema territory. But in addition to brutal gore effects and a storyline that couldn’t possibly be more disturbing, the segment also features some excellent social commentary, the real-world implications of which are far more horrifying than the short itself.

As far interesting concepts go, the segment Seven Times Seven delivers in a big way with it’s story about a man who goes to extreme supernatural lengths to seek his revenge. A truly fascinating entry with a well-crafted story that works perfectly as a stand-alone short. The final segment, Day of the Dead, may not be heavy on subtext but nonetheless closes out the film with a pitch-perfect blood-bath that is immensely cathartic and satisfying.

Despite the fact that Mexico Barbaro delivers a well-crafted anthology that utilizes many different styles of horror, it has been frequently maligned by many viewers and maintains a pretty mediocre overall rating online. I could spend time speculating on theories of inherent cultural bias and the impatience that Western audiences have for subtitles but I think there is a more fundamental reason for the lack of enthusiasm. This is, at times, an incredibly disturbing film and far more extreme than what you generally find browsing through Netflix. This can be a problem for casual genre fans that are unable to handle it when horror movies are truly horrifying. But if you have the cajones, do yourself a favor and strap the fuck in for this twisted pleasure from south of the border.

Atroz, the Spanish word for atrocious and certainly an indication to the viewer that this experience is going to be anything but lighthearted. True to its title, the debut feature from Mexican director Lex Ortega is a harrowing journey indeed. Its style channels August Underground and its violent depravity reaches Human Centipede 2 levels of intensity. Much like A Serbian Film though, this movie plays out as more of a gruesome drama than a horror film but is so horrifying that it more comfortably fits into the Horror category than anywhere else. So, clearly its qualifications as an extreme film are indisputable but still, the most important question remains: “is it any good?”

After two men are arrested at the scene of a car accident that claims the life of a pedestrian, the police find a video camera in the car that contains a horrific video of them torturing a transgender prostitute to death. The film then alternates between the brutal interrogation of the primary suspect Goyo (Lex Ortega) and the graphic crimes on tapes that the police find during the investigation.

What instantly stands out about this film, aside from the extremely disturbing content, is the acting. The amount of commitment and realism that the actors bring to this project would be impressive for any film but the fact that this was a micro-budget production made for the $7,000 that Ortega and the producers crowd-funded really takes it to the next level. Even down to the smallest part, the actors really deliver in this film but Ortega himself truly stands out with his portrayal of the hulking, depraved monster that is Goyo.

Another key part of this film is the gore effects, which are very well done, especially considering the budget. Now, any would-be filmmaker can put gore into a movie but what makes the film so effectively disturbing is the fact that Ortega knows how to work within the limitations of his budget. Instead of attempting to create elaborate scenes and special effects that become laughable when done on the cheap, he wisely sticks to gritty, realistic violence and very upsetting concepts. Graphic genital mutilation, rape, incest, shit eating, bloodplay and various kinds of torture are all presented in unflinching detail.

While I enjoy seeing so much horrific imagery in a film, in this case it does work to its detriment a bit as well. Since the film is a little light on narrative, the extended scenes of violence do have a bit of a numbing effect without a more substantial storyline to support them. Still, the aforementioned acting quality and gore effects do a lot to elevate the overall film beyond the status of a run-of-the-mill Torture Porn making this a relatively minor issue.

A larger issue is the fact that the film falls into the standard found footage trap where characters are recording even at times where it makes no sense to do so. It is logical to think that the killers would be recording their crimes for their own sick pleasure. However, the fact that some of the transitional scenes, as well as large parts of what occurred in Goyo’s old home movie, were recorded is a bit of a stretch. I can certainly understand why Ortega included them as they were essential to the story itself but a bit more justification, like the camera already being on for a different reason, would have helped rationalize the fact that they were being recorded in the first place.

Truly, the only time Ortega completely breaks with the reality he’s created is during a playback of one of the tapes that suddenly cuts to an interior shot of the person’s ass who is being raped with the barbwire dildo (that’s right, you heard me). Certainly a cool effect but doesn’t make sense within the found footage context.

Minor structural criticism aside, this is an incredible film. Not only does it go to levels of darkness rarely achieved in cinema but it also provides powerful social commentary. The film opens with a statistic that 98% of 27,500 murders in Mexico are unsolved which sheds a light on the reality of the real world conditions the filmmakers must contend with. In the behind-the-scenes featurette producer Abigail Bonilla talks about the climate of fear and hopelessness felt by so many residents of Mexico City and how the film represents the violence and horror they see all around them. To properly understand and appreciate this film it is necessary to remove yourself from the initial gut reactions to the horrific images and realize that this is an artistic expression of the rage and fear that so many people feel from living in a dangerous environment. The movie also accurately reflects the fact that monstrous humans aren’t created in a vacuum but in most cases are the result of abuse and a lack of understanding.

A must-see for fans of extreme cinema and those looking for a film that delivers a legitimately hardcore horror experience. Atroz claims to be the most graphic and goriest film ever made in Mexico and ya know what, I would absolutely believe it. But let’s hope that it doesn’t stop there and perhaps this will encourage other daring filmmakers to push the boundaries and create art that resonates on such an intense, visceral level.