The Old Ways

If you’ve spent any time scrolling through the horror section of a streaming service lately, you know the "possession" subgenre is currently suffocating under a pile of Catholic guilt and recycled Latin incantations. We’ve seen enough spinning heads and gravelly-voiced demons to last several lifetimes. So, when I sat down to watch The Old Ways (2021) on a rainy Tuesday while struggling to eat a bowl of cereal without splashing milk on my laptop, I wasn't expecting much more than the usual jump-scares and crucifixes.

Instead, I found a claustrophobic, grit-under-the-fingernails folk horror that trades the Vatican for the humid, ancient jungles of Veracruz. It’s a film that understands that the most terrifying things aren't always lurking in the shadows; sometimes, they’re literally stitched into your skin.

Brujería vs. The Algorithm

Released in the middle of the 2021 streaming surge, The Old Ways is the kind of movie that perfectly illustrates our current cinematic moment. It premiered at Sitges and then landed on Netflix, where it briefly flirted with the Top 10 before being swallowed by the relentless "New Releases" algorithm. It’s a shame, because director Christopher Alender (who worked on The Nightmare Before Christmas and founded Soapbox Films) crafted something here that feels far more tactile and dangerous than your average digital-first horror flick.

The story follows Cristina, played with a weary, jagged edge by Brigitte Kali Canales. She’s a Mexican-American journalist who returns to her ancestral home to investigate a story on local folklore, only to find herself waking up in chains. The locals—including a stoic bruja named Luz (Julia Vera) and her son Javi (Sal Lopez)—don’t think she’s a nosy reporter; they think she’s a vessel for a demon called Poste.

What follows is essentially a single-location chamber piece. Most of the film takes place in a small, dirt-floored room, which is a bold choice for a supernatural thriller. In an era of massive CGI spectacle, limiting the geography makes every drop of sweat feel earned. I honestly believe Brigitte Kali Canales has "Final Girl" energy that could power a small city, and her transformation from a cynical skeptic to a desperate believer is the engine that keeps the movie from feeling like a stage play.

Teeth, Hair, and Practical Nightmares

Where The Old Ways truly separates itself from the pack is in its commitment to "the craft." We live in a time of seamless, often bloodless CGI, but Marcos Gabriel’s screenplay demands something much more physical. There is a "psychic surgery" scene involving a handful of hair and a very unlucky tooth that made me physically recoil. It’s gross, it’s wet, and it feels terrifyingly real.

The creature design—specifically the "Demon Boy" played by Julian Lerma—is a masterstroke of low-budget ingenuity. By keeping the threat mostly in the periphery or shrouded in candle-smoke, the film taps into that primal fear of things that don't quite move like humans. It’s a reminder that most exorcism movies are just 'The Exorcist' with a different coat of paint, whereas this feels like a genuine dive into a different culture’s nightmares.

Behind the scenes, the production is a fascinating look at modern "indie" efficiency. Despite the convincing Veracruz atmosphere, a large portion of this was actually filmed on a soundstage in Los Angeles. Christopher Alender and his team utilized their experience in commercial production to make a micro-budget look like a million bucks. The cinematography by Adam Lee uses a warm, sickly yellow palette that makes the room feel increasingly smaller as Cristina’s "treatment" progresses. It captures that feeling of being trapped in a fever dream where you’re not sure if you’re being saved or sacrificed.

A Lost Gem in the Streaming Sea

The film also navigates the tricky waters of representation and cultural identity without ever feeling like it’s checking boxes. Cristina’s addiction—symbolized by the heroin kit she carries—is cleverly mirrored by the "possession" she’s fighting. It’s a "broken protagonist" trope that works because it’s tied so closely to the film’s themes of returning to your roots to heal your present. Even the inclusion of AJ Bowen (a total legend in the indie horror scene from films like You're Next) as Cristina’s boss provides a nice grounded contrast to the supernatural madness unfolding in the jungle.

Why did this movie fall into the "obscure" category so quickly? I suspect it’s because it doesn't fit neatly into the "elevated horror" bucket (it's too grimy and fun for that) nor the "jump-scare factory" bucket (it’s too smart). It exists in that wonderful middle ground of cult cinema. In an era where we are constantly told what to watch by trending hashtags, discovering a movie like The Old Ways feels like finding a strange, hand-carved idol in a thrift store full of plastic toys.

If you’re tired of the same old suburban hauntings, The Old Ways is the palate cleanser you need. It’s a lean, mean 90 minutes that respects its audience enough to let the atmosphere do the heavy lifting. I watched it expecting a disposable Friday night distraction, but I ended up thinking about that tooth-pulling scene for a week. Seek this one out before it disappears into the digital abyss—it’s a ritual worth attending.