It all starts with a toad.
Young Aapo runs a pet shop with his mother in their native Yucatan. One day a Maya woman named Luz comes in, looking for a specific toad that has hallucinogenic properties. She belongs to a “conscious community of healers” called the Empire of Love, and they need exactly that type of toad for a ritual. She casts a seductive eye on Aapo and convinces him to deliver it to her in the jungle. Aapo motors out, naïve and unaware of what awaits him.
That’s the premise of the beguiling film Wetiko from writer/director Kerry Mondragón, which was made in 2022, and released now to select theaters.
Aapo’s journey twists and turns (Wetiko’s tagline bills it as a “psychedelic jungle thriller). A spirit moth flies in his ear and launches his visions. Luz (Dalia Xiuhcoatl, who has arrestingly angular features) transitions to Aapo’s ally as it gradually becomes clear that Aapo (Juan Daniel García Treviño) is being prepped to be the sacrifice du jour. The Empire of Love is a cult, run by the conniving gringo Shaman Zake Zezo (played adroitly by Neil Sandilands, who’s been in the films News of the World and Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes). Shaman Zake has displaced the former shaman under mysterious circumstances. He’s a smooth talker, promising transcendence, while maintaining a cadre of look-alike maidens called the Marias, women groomed to be at his sexual beck and call.
Then there’s that pesky toad. It keeps disappearing. Everybody keeps losing it, and their search takes us deeper into the depths of the jungle and brings more quirky characters into the mix, like Franky Whiteout (Jordan Barrett), Goddess Jenny (Claire Kniaz), and Goddess Sasha (Bárbara de Regil).
Writer/director Kerry Mondragón shot Wetiko in Mexico. In 2014, he was Spike Lee’s assistant and associate director on Lee’s Da Sweet Blood of Jesus. His debut feature, Tyger Tyger, was released in 2019. Mr. Mondragón’s style is loose and has a DIY appeal. His byword in Wetiko is color: saturated reds and blues and yellows peek gaudily out of a murky soup of browns and blacks (the primary action takes place at night). Much of the dialogue is in Spanish, and the English subtitles are yellow with a red drop shadow. Every frame of Wetiko is admirably crowded with visual information.
F.Y.I.: The term “Wetiko” is Algonquian, meaning “a cannibalistic spirit of insatiable greed, selfish consumption, and egomania.” That may be meant to describe Zake, even though the film embodies much more than his malevolent "mind virus." But Zake’s final act seems incongruous to the manipulator we’ve come to know. Wetiko begins and finishes with The Tremeloes’ version of “Silence is Golden,” a jolting contrast to the setting, but an ironic note at the end.
As far as phantasmagorias go, it’s pretty low-tech. During the hallucinations, there’s some use of a fish-eye lens. The ritual site resembles a beer garden, festooned with neon lights and glow sticks. The height of the special effects is shots seen through heat-sensing goggles. But that adds to its goofy charm. It reminds me of Roger Corman’s slapdash drive-in movies, in intention and budget. Wetiko is seat-of-your pants filmmaking that is also sincere and indigenous. It’s a trip worth taking.
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Wetiko. Directed by Kerry Mondragón. 2022. In English and Spanish with subtitles. Runtime 89 minutes.