Shaman

In Shaman, director Antonio Negret and screenwriter Daniel Negret venture into the terrain of folk horror, possession, and postcolonial views, weaving together a tale that is equal parts exorcism and indictment of spiritual assimilation. The picture, set in rural Ecuador, appears to follow familiar possession genre patterns at first, but it gradually evolves into something more layered in terms of characters, even if not entirely different ground. The story centers on Candice (Sara Canning) and Joel (Daniel Gillies), two missionaries living and working in a remote Ecuadorian community, joined by their son Elliot (Jett Klyne).

Their spiritual mission of establishing a new church and converting those they live with to Judaic/Christian beliefs away from the “old ways” is disrupted when Elliot enters a forbidden cave to retrieve a lost watch and a toy plane. The child unwittingly unleashes a primeval force that begins to take control of him. What follows is a descent into demonic control marked by vomiting dark, nasty material up, blackened teeth, and the now-standard arsenal of demonic antics: growling voices, secret revealing taunts to those who oppose.

Shaman shines in its folk horror and novel use of the country’s natural beauty. Entering a cave in traditional folk horror often marks the start of events, as seen in the original The Wicker Man or The Witch, where ignorance ignites ancient, dormant forces. The missionaries, who present themselves as moral compasses of civilization, are revealed to be more complicated, even compromised. Candice, self-righteous to the point of delusion, insists on confronting the demon through her Christian ideals, rejecting the help of the local shaman whose authority she quietly resents. It’s a shame you don’t see more of the indigenous actors throughout, as they are still relegated to atmospheric players, with the exception of Father Meyer (Alejandro Fajardo), Rosa (Mercy Lima), and the village Shaman trying to offer an alternative way. The white folk are still front and centre.

Sara Canning’s character spies through a narrow opening in Shaman

“…when Elliot enters a forbidden cave…[he] unwittingly unleashes a primeval force that begins to take control of him.”

The black-veined visage, telekinetic deaths, and snarling proclamations are all well-worn territory. But, the horror here lies less in the demon and more in the cultural arrogance. One particularly disturbing moment is when Elliot shares the mystic wonders of a phone video game with some stoic local children. His mother stops him from doing this, addressing not the fact that he is talking down to people, but the fact that the game style was not something they agreed upon. Frustratingly, the story never dives into why Elliot is the one possessed. He’s not especially rebellious or lacking faith; perhaps he was merely available.

There’s also a curious sexual scene, though it is brief. In one moment, the missionaries are baptizing the locals in the river with smiles, then are shown in a rough, sexual encounter against a wardrobe similar to Sonny and the bride in The Godfather. The “missionary position,” metaphorically and literally, is undermined. Their faith may preach chastity and control, but they, like all humans, are driven by urges that their belief system represses. Oddly, it is the men who are ineffectual except for the local Shaman in establishing the need for exorcism, similar to Chris MacNeil in The Exorcist. Candace is also the character who initiates the on-screen lustful encounter.

Technically, Shaman is accomplished. The Ecuadorian landscapes offer a rich and unfamiliar visual palette, steeped in mist and myth. The cinematography captures oppressive heat and spiritual tension. This is a film about the limits of faith, both religious and personal, which is rarely explored in Western horror. While this doesn’t reinvent the possession genre, it enriches it. By embedding the story in a Latin American folk tradition and examining colonial Christian missionary practices, the filmmakers offer more than just scares; they ask questions about cultural supremacy, belief, and the cost of spiritual conquest.