Alright, fellow tapeheads, dim the lights, maybe crack open a suspiciously fizzy soda that expired sometime during the Clinton administration, and let’s talk about a truly unique find from the dusty back shelves of the video rental glory days. I’m talking about Hermelinda Linda (1984), a film that feels like it beamed directly from an alternate dimension where popular Mexican comic books, slapstick comedy, and surprisingly spooky witchcraft collided head-on. Finding this tape felt like uncovering buried treasure – the kind of weird, wonderful discovery that made haunting those video store aisles so worthwhile.

Forget your typical Hollywood witches. Hermelinda Linda, brought to life with unforgettable gusto by the legendary Evita Muñoz 'Chachita', isn't stirring cauldrons in some gothic castle. Nope, she's operating out of Bondojito, a working-class neighbourhood in Mexico City. She's a modern (well, 1984 modern) witch dealing with contemporary problems – pesky clients, bureaucratic red tape from the local witch delegation (yes, really!), and even international threats. Evita Muñoz, a beloved child star who grew up on screen in Mexican cinema (think Shirley Temple, but with decades more screen presence), completely transforms here. Gone is the wholesome image, replaced by green skin (sometimes!), a prosthetic nose, and an attitude that's equal parts shrewd businesswoman and powerful sorceress. It's a performance that has to be seen to be believed, utterly committed and hilariously incongruous.
The film itself, directed and co-written by Julio Aldama, feels like a live-action cartoon, directly channeling the spirit of Oscar González Loyo's massively popular comic book series it's based on. This wasn't some obscure property; Hermelinda Linda was a household name in Mexico, known for its irreverent humour and playful take on horror tropes. Seeing it brought to life, especially with this cast, was a major event for fans.
And what a cast! Part of the sheer joy of watching Hermelinda Linda today, especially if you grew up with Spanish-language television, is spotting the familiar faces. We get Rubén Aguirre, forever immortalized as Profesor Jirafales in El Chavo del Ocho, playing a ridiculously over-the-topDelegation Chief for witches. And who’s that playing Hermelinda's daughter, Arlene? None other than María Antonieta de las Nieves, the iconic La Chilindrina herself! Seeing these titans of Mexican comedy bounce off 'Chachita's' green-skinned antics adds a whole layer of nostalgic delight. Their timing is impeccable, honed by years of television, and they dive into the absurdity with infectious energy. It's like a bizarre, supernatural sitcom reunion.
Now, let's talk effects. This being 1984 Mexican genre cinema, we're deep in the heart of glorious, tangible, practical magic. Don't expect seamless CGI transformations here. Hermelinda's spells involve puffs of smoke, quirky makeup effects (that green skin!), goofy props, and camera tricks that feel charmingly handmade. Remember how real those simple illusions felt back then on a fuzzy CRT screen? A disappearing potion might just be a quick cut, but delivered with 'Chachita's' cackling confidence, it worked. There's a scene involving shrinking a character that relies on forced perspective and oversized props – pure, unadulterated B-movie ingenuity. It’s the kind of stuff that today’s slick, pixel-perfect fantasies often lack: a sense of tangible weirdness, of filmmakers physically wrestling magic onto the screen.
The production design embraces the delightful clash of the supernatural and the mundane – Hermelinda's lair is filled with bubbling potions and rotary phones. It’s this blend that gives the film its unique flavour. It’s not trying to be The Exorcist; it’s aiming for laughs mixed with light spooky thrills, all filtered through a distinctly Mexican cultural lens. The script, co-written by Aldama, María Elena Velasco (herself a Mexican screen legend as 'La India María'), and comic creator Oscar González Loyo, leans heavily into puns, slapstick, and a gentle ribbing of social norms.
While perhaps baffling to international critics (if they even saw it), Hermelinda Linda was a hit in Mexico, tapping into the comic's huge fanbase and the star power of its cast. It captured a specific moment in popular culture, blending fantasy, horror, and broad comedy in a way few films dared. It even spawned a sequel, Hermelinda Linda II, just two years later, proving its appeal. It wasn't high art, maybe, but it was pure, unadulterated fun, the kind of movie you’d excitedly tell your friends about after renting it on a whim.
Does it hold up? Well, the humour is definitely of its time, and the pacing can feel episodic, like reading chapters of the comic. But the energy, the performances (especially 'Chachita's'), and the sheer weirdness remain captivating. It’s a fascinating time capsule of Mexican genre filmmaking and a testament to the power of practical effects and charismatic stars to sell even the most outlandish premise.
Justification: The film earns solid points for its iconic lead performance by Evita Muñoz 'Chachita', its incredible supporting cast of Mexican comedy legends, its faithful (and bizarre) adaptation of a beloved comic, and its sheer unashamed embrace of low-budget practical charm. It loses a few points for pacing issues and humour that might not land universally today, but its unique cultural flavour and nostalgic appeal are undeniable.
Final Thought: Hermelinda Linda is a potent brew of 80s weirdness, a flick that reminds you why digging through those forgotten corners of the video store often yielded the strangest, most wonderful magic. A true cult potion.