★★★ out of ★★★★★
🩸🩸out of 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
Directed by Rubin Stein.
Do weird-looking albino kids give you the chills? What about oddball kids that have been indoctrinated into a religious fervor? What about strange kids set in a 1980s Giallo-esque Spanish village? Well, Tin and Tina has all this and more.
To be honest, I accidentally turned on the dubbed version of Tin and Tina and I’m here to tell you it’s way better! Normally, I’d say that you should run away from any dubbed Giallo feature, but in this case it creates a wonderful soundscape that’s reminiscent of Italian/Spanish horror of yesteryear. Even though the film is from 2023, the dubbed dialogue makes you feel as if you’ve been transported into your 1982 VCR.
Tin (Carlos González Morollón) and Tina (Anastasia Russo) is a rather simple film that preys on the most basic human fears and inadequacies — being a parent. Can I parent? Can I feel empathy? What if my kid is the weird kid? More importantly, Tin and Tina answers a deeper question surrounding the inability to have a child and lengths that individuals will go to either have a child or adopt a child. It’s not a pretty picture and it’s one that’s made worse when it’s done in concert with marital duress.
Lola (Milena Smit) and Adolfo (Jaime Lorente) are head over heels in love and decide to get married since Lola has a bun cooking in the over. Sadly, Lola loses the child and she’s forced to contend with deep depression and the professional distance of her airline pilot husband. What’s a young couple to do? Truck on down to the local crooked Catholic orphanage and see what’s available.
The nuns quickly turn Lola and Adolfo on to a pair of hyper-religious paternal twins. Extra blonde and near white hair, glowing eyes, and a peculiar penchant for obeying obscure references in the bible and related punishments. In fairness to Tin and Tina, they’ve been sheltered throughout their decade-long run at the convent and they’ve not be clued into social norms, mores, and basic facial queues.
In much the same way the 2021’s St. Maud will have you wondering whether the heathen or the religious zealot has the correct approach to spirituality, Tin and Tina will have you wondering whether life’s answers lie with nature, nurture, or religious trauma brought on by the Catholic Church.
Everything that Tin and Tina do goes wrong. When they seek to punish the family dog for biting their adopted mother, it ends in a terrifying, but weirdly well meaning, bloodbath. The kids try everything they can to fit into modern 1980s culture, but their stunted growth, odd clothing, strange haircuts, and their religious underpinnings make their transition rife with problems.
Making matters worse is the fact Lola, whose religious leanings are rather thin, and Adolfo who has stronger ties to the Catholic Church, don’t see eye to eye about Tin and Tina. Lola knows something is deeply problematic, and Adolfo wants to give the kids ample room to grow and integrate into their family.
Tin and Tina does pull a lot of punches. There are many horror elements that are implied and heard rather than seen. Much of the gore is either obscured or just not shown. However, by being vague about Tina and Tina’s origins and their horrifying acts of misguided religious fanaticism makes their seemingly kind acts all the darker and diabolical.
To be clear, the film doesn’t break much new ground, but it is a fun and well-constructed retro look a killer kids. Tin and Tina aren’t going to be on any “best of the year” lists, but the care taken to present the early 1980s sets, costuming, and music, is pretty incredible. When you layer this wonderful pastiche with the the dubbed dialogue it’s almost like you just unearthed a never-seen Fulci film into your VCR.
Tin and Tina is streaming on Netflix and likely PG-13.