Cronos (1993)

Review by Sean Patterson



Long before Hellboy and Pan's Labyrinth, Guillermo del Toro's directorial debut was a small horror flick called Cronos. In the dark ages a mysterious figure known as "the alchemist" manufactured a device that is said to bestow eternal life upon its user. The cronos device.
In modern-day Spain, an elderly antiques dealer named Jesus Gris (Federico Luppi) stumbles upon the device in the base of an old cherub statue. When he winds the dial on the top of the device it begins to unfurl into an arachnid shape, plunging a stinger deep into his palm. When the device is used there is a neat effect where the camera dives into its clockwork innards, which are shown moving with intense precision. Gris awakes the next morning to find himself looking much younger, svelte even.
By startling coincidence, at the very moment Gris discovers the cronos device, a dying captain of industry, a Mr. De la Guardia (Claudio Brook), has finally managed to track down the cherub statue. The rich invalid sends his muscle to obtain the statue and the secret he suspects is inside. What follows is a slow build of intimidation, violence, murder, and rebirth as Gris struggles with the requirements the device demands for immortality.
The muscle I spoke of is De la Guardia's incompetent nephew Angel, played by Ron Perlman. Perlman obviously isn't as big as del Toro made him seem in Hellboy, but he does a fine job playing the lazy henchman. He isn't alone in his good acting. Everyone in the movie is spot on with their characters, including the young girl who played Gris' daughter (or granddaughter), whom I don't think spoke a word the whole movie. I'll go ahead and credit del Toro for that creative (and underused, if you ask me) way of dealing with a child actor.
The movie comes to a climax in a fantastic ending that is transparently an homage to Hitchcock. It's a wonderful story that's all the more interesting in the context of what del Toro goes on to create. Even in his first feature-length film it's obvious that he has a special talent for storytelling with a soft touch of wonderous imagery. Here you can see the beginnings of the director's fascination with themes, sets, and objects that are both subtly horrific and beautiful.