Luciferina is a haunting Argentine horror film that dives deep into the darkness of the human soul, exploring themes of religion, fear, and the battle between good and evil. Directed by Gonzalo Calzada, this slow-burn psychological thriller weaves a terrifying tale of possession, guilt, and spiritual awakening that will leave you questioning the very nature of evil.

The story follows Nina, a shy, religious young woman who travels with her estranged sister and friends to a remote convent in the countryside to take part in a spiritual retreat. What begins as an attempt at reconnecting with her faith soon spirals into a nightmare as Nina uncovers secrets of the convent’s past, including the disturbing presence of something darker — something supernatural and malevolent. As the retreat progresses, Nina becomes entangled in a web of occult rituals, disturbing visions, and an ancient evil that wants to claim her soul

The atmosphere of Luciferina is one of brooding tension. The cinematography captures the eerie isolation of the convent, the mist-covered landscape, and the claustrophobic interiors that heighten the sense of fear. The film does an excellent job of keeping the audience on edge, using shadows, whispers, and subtle sound design to build an oppressive feeling of dread. It’s a film that relies more on the suggestion of horror and the psychological unraveling of its characters than on outright gore or shock value.

The performances are solid, especially from Valeria Giorcelli as Nina, who portrays the character’s internal conflict — a mixture of religious guilt, curiosity, and eventual terror — with nuance and subtlety. The film’s strength lies in its slow, deliberate pacing, allowing the tension to slowly build, layer by layer, as Nina’s faith is tested and she faces a terrifying truth about herself.

What Luciferina does exceptionally well is the way it blends religious horror with psychological depth, questioning faith and human frailty while providing the audience with chilling visuals that linger long after the credits roll. It’s not just about demons and rituals — it’s about the horror we face within ourselves.