32 Malasana Street (2020)

32 Malasaña Street makes itself special by turning a classic haunted-apartment setup into a vivid time capsule of 1976 Madrid, where the unease in the streets seems to seep straight into the wallpaper. Director Albert Pintó stages scares with confident, polished craftsmanship—doors, hallways, and everyday objects become instruments of dread—while the performances keep the family’s panic grounded and human instead of theatrical. The vibe is tense, energetic, and crowd-pleasing, the kind of horror that wants you gripping the armrest and then nervously laughing at how well it got you. If you’re allergic to jump scares or prefer slow-burn ambiguity, it may feel a bit loud and familiar, but if you want an effective, entertaining haunted-house ride with real atmosphere, this one delivers.

32 Malasaña Street is clearly aiming for a moody, period-set haunted-house ride, using 1976 Madrid’s unease as a backdrop for a family-in-peril ghost story. The problem is it rarely escapes the genre’s greatest-hits playlist: lots of jump scares, familiar creepy-kid/creepy-apartment beats, and characters who feel more like moving targets than people you’ll genuinely care about. If you’re tired of James Wan-style imitation and want fresh mythology or sharp writing, this will likely feel repetitive and a bit hollow, especially as it ramps into the finale. That said, the production design and atmosphere do some heavy lifting, so if you simply want a brisk, spooky watch with solid visuals and don’t mind clichés, it can still scratch that haunted-house itch.