In the ever-expanding world of horror cinema, few stories dare to marry cultural tradition and raw terror as effectively as Rosario. Directed by a rising voice in Latin American horror, the film tells the story of a young stockbroker, Alejandra, who must fulfill an unsettling family obligation: staying overnight with her grandmother's corpse. What follows is a night filled with revelations, supernatural hauntings, and the unearthing of generations of family secrets.
Set against the backdrop of a small Texas town with a rich Latino heritage, Rosario blends supernatural horror with cultural authenticity. The film opens as Alejandra, portrayed with nuanced vulnerability by Emeraude Tobia, returns home after years away. She’s a woman of numbers and logic, unprepared for the nightmarish ritual ahead. When her beloved grandmother, Rosario, passes away, Alejandra is chosen to perform the velorio de cuerpo presente—an ancient tradition requiring her to watch over the deceased until dawn.
What initially seems like a simple, if eerie, task soon descends into terror. Strange noises echo through the house, doors creak open on their own, and ghostly figures flicker in the corners of Alejandra’s vision. As the night deepens, Rosario’s lifeless body appears to move, whispering secrets only Alejandra can hear. Every chilling moment is intensified by the director’s careful attention to pacing, allowing dread to seep into every frame.
The house itself becomes a character in Rosario. Its crumbling walls, dim lighting, and oppressive air capture the feeling of a family weighed down by hidden sins. Cinematographer Luis Álvarez crafts shadowy, claustrophobic visuals that elevate the unease, while composer Maria Castillo's haunting score wraps the viewer in an unrelenting tension that never feels manipulative.
Throughout the film, flashbacks reveal a history of betrayal, regret, and unspoken curses. Rosario, revered in the community as a healer and matriarch, carried a legacy far more complicated than Alejandra ever imagined. Themes of generational trauma and cultural expectation emerge, challenging Alejandra to confront not just external horrors, but the internalized fears passed down through bloodlines.
One of the film’s most unsettling sequences comes midway through the night. As Alejandra begins to drift into sleep, she dreams of her grandmother’s younger self, living through moments of love, heartbreak, and revenge. These dreamscapes blur seamlessly into the waking nightmare, creating a fractured reality that leaves the audience questioning what is real.
What makes Rosario stand apart from many modern horror films is its commitment to atmosphere over cheap scares. While there are certainly moments that will make audiences jump, the film is more interested in building a pervasive sense of doom that lingers long after the credits roll. It’s horror for those who appreciate slow burns, psychological depth, and emotional resonance.
Director Carmen Ruiz, in her first major feature, displays a remarkable understanding of how cultural specificity can enhance horror. In interviews, she has emphasized the importance of showing Latino traditions in an authentic light, steering clear of stereotypes and honoring the complexity of her heritage. This attention to detail is apparent throughout Rosario, making the supernatural elements feel all the more real and grounded.
Critical reception for Rosario has been overwhelmingly positive. Early screenings at genre festivals like Fantastic Fest and Panic Fest have seen packed houses and enthusiastic word-of-mouth. Critics have praised the film’s performances, direction, and its ability to breathe new life into familiar horror tropes.
Emerging star Emeraude Tobia is being lauded as a breakout force. Her portrayal of Alejandra’s unraveling psyche is deeply affecting, avoiding melodrama in favor of quiet, palpable fear. Supporting performances from a tight-knit ensemble cast lend authenticity to Alejandra’s fractured family dynamic, anchoring the supernatural happenings in real emotional stakes.
Rosario is not just a horror film; it’s a meditation on grief, responsibility, and identity. It invites viewers to think about their own ancestral ties and the burdens they carry without even realizing it. Its final act, which avoids easy answers and instead leans into ambiguity and existential dread, is sure to leave audiences haunted for days.
As horror continues to diversify and globalize, films like Rosario remind us that some of the most terrifying stories are the ones that hit closest to home. Through a masterful blend of atmosphere, tradition, and emotional weight, Rosario cements itself as one of 2025’s must-watch horror films—and a new classic in the making.
Tags: Rosario, horror movie, Latin American horror, family secrets, supernatural horror, Emeraude Tobia, Carmen Ruiz, velorio tradition, psychological horror, generational trauma
