INTRODUCTION: MEAT IS BACK ON THE MENU, AMIGOS
In 2010, Mexico served up one of its strangest exports — We Are What We Are (Somos lo que hay) — a movie that asks the important philosophical question: What if your family dinner was also a religious ritual, a social critique, and a crime scene?
Directed by Jorge Michel Grau, this film manages to be both grisly and poetic, shocking and tender, stomach-churning and — dare I say — oddly heartwarming. It’s not just a horror film about cannibalism; it’s a coming-of-age story with extra protein. Think The Texas Chain Saw Massacre crossed with Y Tu Mamá También, but with less road trip and more entrails.
OPENING COURSE: A DEATH, A DIGESTION, A FAMILY TRADITION
We begin in the least appetizing way possible — a man collapses and dies outside a shopping mall. You might assume this is just your typical urban tragedy until the coroner discovers something unusual in his stomach: a human finger. So much for “you are what you eat.”
At home, his grieving family — a mother and three children — wait for him to return, unaware that dad’s final meal was, well, dad. The deceased patriarch was a watch repairman, which feels symbolically perfect: his whole life revolved around time, and now his family is about to run out of it.
When mom Patricia (Carmen Beato) learns her husband’s dead, she locks herself in her room and lets her kids figure out what’s next. Unfortunately for the world, what’s next is ritualistic murder and light family drama — in that order.
THE FAMILY THAT SLAYS TOGETHER
The siblings — Alfredo, Julián, and Sabina — are like the Addams Family if they were broke, Mexican, and into serial killing. Their rituals involve hunting down victims, preparing them for a sacred family feast, and probably not washing their hands afterward.
Alfredo (Francisco Barreiro) is the hesitant older brother, the kind of guy who probably apologizes before stabbing you. Julián (Alan Chávez) is his hot-headed opposite — all testosterone and poor impulse control. And Sabina (Paulina Gaitán), their sister, has the eerie calm of someone who could calmly discuss dinner plans and dismember you at the same time.
Then there’s mom — a one-woman horror show in pearls. She’s part religious zealot, part domestic tyrant, and all shovel. Seriously, this woman uses a shovel to solve problems the way other mothers use passive-aggressive Facebook posts.
THE MEAL PREP MONTAGE FROM HELL
Their first attempt at keeping the family tradition alive goes about as smoothly as a vegan barbecue. The boys try to kidnap a homeless kid, fail, then grab a prostitute instead — because apparently, this family doesn’t have Yelp for sacrifices.
When mom finds out, she’s livid. She beats the prostitute to death with the aforementioned shovel, yelling that sex workers are “impure” for their sacred meal. (Ironically, this is one of the few times in cinematic history where a mom saying, “Don’t play with your food” could’ve saved a life.)
From there, the family spirals into chaos, juggling hunger, guilt, and homicidal logistics. If Martha Stewart ever released The Cannibal’s Cookbook, this would be the movie adaptation.
A TASTE OF SOCIAL COMMENTARY
Now, here’s where We Are What We Are earns its Michelin star. Beneath the gore and the madness, Grau serves up a biting social allegory about poverty, patriarchy, and survival in modern Mexico.
The family’s cannibalism isn’t just shock value — it’s a metaphor for a system that devours its own. They live on the fringes of society, abandoned by institutions, scraping by in a decaying urban landscape. Their ritual, as grotesque as it is, gives them meaning — something to hold onto as everything else falls apart.
It’s less about hunger and more about inheritance. When the father dies, he leaves behind not a business or an insurance policy, but a sacred obligation to keep consuming. In a way, it’s the world’s worst family recipe: “Step 1: Lose your dad. Step 2: Eat your feelings. Step 3: Literally.”
THE POLICE: INCOMPETENCE, CORRUPTION, AND COMIC RELIEF
Meanwhile, the police — led by Detectives Octavio and Owen — investigate the father’s death and subsequent murders with all the enthusiasm of DMV employees on Ambien. They’re not really trying to solve the case so much as they’re trying to get famous.
Their investigation consists of bumbling around morgues, shouting theories, and generally being outsmarted by everyone, including the corpses. When they finally stumble upon the family’s crimes, it’s less detective work and more dumb luck.
It’s a clever jab at institutional failure — law enforcement so consumed by its own ego it can’t see the blood in front of it. And in this movie, there’s a lot of blood in front of it.
LOVE, LUST, AND LIVER
One of the movie’s most unexpectedly funny sequences involves mom luring a cab driver to his doom by seducing him in her car. It’s like Fatal Attraction meets Hell’s Kitchen. Alfredo, meanwhile, tries to pick up a man in a gay bar as a potential meal, which leads to the film’s most awkward seduction scene.
When his brother Julián finds out, he protests, declaring they can’t eat “one of those.” So on top of being murderers, they’re also homophobic — proving that even cannibals can be bigots.
The whole dynamic plays out like a dysfunctional sitcom written by Satan: “Everybody Eats Raymond.”
THE BLOODY CLIMAX: FAMILY DINNER GETS OUT OF HAND
By the third act, all hell breaks loose — literally. The cops close in, the family turns on itself, and everyone’s trying to either escape or finish dinner.
Alfredo, desperate to save Sabina, bites her neck (yes, bites her), leading Julián to shoot him — because in this movie, miscommunication is fatal. Mom flees across rooftops, gets beaten to death by angry prostitutes (a sentence I never thought I’d write), and Sabina — the last survivor — is carted off in an ambulance as the supposed “victim.”
But of course, she’s not done. The next day, she’s already eyeing her next meal. Turns out the family tradition is safe — the leftovers will live on.
THE FLAVOR PROFILE: GRITTY, RICH, AND UNCOMFORTABLY HUMAN
We Are What We Are works because it’s not afraid to get messy — morally, visually, or emotionally. It’s shot with a grimy realism that makes you feel like you need a shower afterward, yet it’s never exploitative. Grau treats horror as anthropology — studying the rituals of a decaying family with the same fascination David Attenborough might reserve for lions devouring a gazelle.
The film is gory, yes, but it’s also oddly elegant. There’s rhythm in the chaos, a weird grace in the violence. Like all great horror, it’s not about monsters — it’s about people who’ve become them.
DESSERT: THE FINAL BITE
In a genre stuffed with tired remakes and lazy jump scares, We Are What We Are feels fresh — like a gourmet dish made of forbidden ingredients. It’s smart without being pretentious, grotesque without being cheap, and funny in the darkest possible way.
It’s a horror movie that reminds you humanity’s worst impulses can also be its most fascinating. It’s not about why we eat each other — metaphorically or literally — but about how we keep coming back for seconds.
FINAL VERDICT: BONE APPÉTIT
Jorge Michel Grau’s We Are What We Are is part family drama, part social critique, and part all-you-can-eat nightmare buffet. It’s the kind of movie that makes you laugh, cringe, and question whether you’re still hungry afterward.
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Severed Fingers.
Because sometimes the family that prays together, slays together — and no one does Sunday dinner quite like the Mexicans. 🍖🇲🇽💀
