Tigers Are Not Afraid is a film single-handedly elevated by the strength of its child actors. Paola Lara’s Estrella is the perfect blend of wounded vulnerability and proactive gumption, but it’s Juan Ramón López’s captivating performance as Shine that dazzles the most throughout the narrative. Fiercely street-smart yet loyal and compassionate, Shine teeters on the precipice of being swallowed whole by the dark world around him - a prime example of how a good kid can be pressed into violent gang-life. The group, including the newly inducted Estrella, enjoys a whimsical Lost Boys-esque chemistry as they navigate the city, but where there are moments of fun and whimsy, darkness is never far behind, and López is sure to make that reality clear. In Tigers, our heroes are children, but the stakes are nonetheless high, and the film never pulls its punches when it comes to the mortality of our kid protagonists: death is an ever-looming fact of life on the streets of Mexico, and it can come for anyone at anytime.

Visually, Tigers Are Not Afraid is a lo-fi feast, even if its technical reach is sometimes beyond its grasp. Its nameless city is as much a character as its human roster, with hollowed-out ruins and graffiti that literally come alive in both celebration and grief. One of the film’s grandest locales, an abandoned theater, is a wonder to behold with its captivating juxtapositions: Koi fish swim in a muddied and dirty pond, and its bombed-out interiors cast a lonely shadow on a long-forgotten majesty. Tigers also fires on all cylinders when its horror elements are on full display. From the serpentine trail of blood that follows Estrella everywhere, to the story’s truly terrifying ghosts (plastic-shrouded corpses that lurch to life, discarded by the Huascas), the film revels in a dread-soaked atmosphere, amplified by some stunning effects work. When it comes to the more fantastical elements, however, it fares a little worse. With its mournful specters, living graffiti, and chalk-piece wishes, Tigers Are Not Afraid establishes a confident reality of profound magical realism, but when it starts throwing in animated stuffed animals and tiny dragons, they become superfluous additions that neither the budget nor the narrative economy can afford. It’s a minor quibble in an otherwise impeccable film, and the only thing that didn’t quite work for me. Technical and thematic hiccups aside, however, the film is a touching symphony that harmonizes performances to setting, shining a much-needed light on an oft-overlooked corner of the world.

I had the fortunate pleasure of attending the IFC Center premiere of Tigers Are Not Afraid, accompanied by a Q&A with director Issa López afterwards. From her short time on stage answering questions, you could tell her passion and enthusiasm for the project. From her childhood experience of losing her own mother, to the importance of Latinx representation, to the film lending a voice to the lost people of Mexico, Tigers culminates as López’s ultimate labor of love. It also happens to be the next great horror-fantasy film, a fearless movie with indie roots that also tells a profound story long marginalized by history.

GRADE: A-