Jezabel (2022)

Jezabel grabs you with the unsettling idea that some crimes don’t end when the headlines fade—they metastasize into memory, guilt, and a lifetime of unanswered questions. Hernán Jabes wraps a sleek, nervy mystery around the rot of privilege, letting the carefree high-school haze curdle into something haunted and quietly devastating as Alain is forced to live in the shadow of what happened to Eli. The film’s thriller mechanics keep you leaning forward, but what lingers is its aching sense of a society where justice feels perpetually out of reach, making its emotional undercurrent surprisingly touching. It’s not a light watch—and with its mature edge it won’t be for everyone—but if you like crime stories that sting as much as they entertain, this one is worth your time.

Jezabel is clearly aiming for a slick, unsettling portrait of privilege, guilt, and the rot beneath a carefree teen facade, with a time-jump mystery meant to haunt as much as it intrigues. The problem is it often feels like the film is pushing an allegory harder than it’s building a gripping story, so scenes can play more like statements than momentum, and the thriller hooks don’t always bite as deep as they should. If you want a tight, clue-driven mystery or a satisfying crime puzzle, you may find it frustratingly more mood-and-message than payoff. That said, if you’re open to a darker, atmospheric slow-burn that prioritizes theme and lingering guilt over plot mechanics, there’s enough tension and ambition here to keep you watching.