The Dominican Republic becomes the backdrop for a chilling exploration of identity and terror in the upcoming horror film No Salgas (Stay Quiet). This queer coming-of-age story marks the feature directorial debut of Victoria Linares, promising to deliver both supernatural scares and incisive social commentary. The film's first-look image has just been unveiled, with ArtHood Entertainment securing worldwide sales rights for this provocative project.
Set against the socially conservative landscape of the Dominican Republic, No Salgas follows a medical student grappling with her sexual identity while a malevolent supernatural entity begins targeting those closest to her. The narrative opens with a harrowing sequence: two teenagers flee through the darkness, only for one to meet a gruesome end at the hands of her possessed mother. This shocking prologue establishes the film's unflinching approach to horror and sets the stage for the trauma that will unfold.
The story centers on Liz, a young woman navigating the complex terrain of self-discovery in a culture that offers little acceptance for queer identities. Her secret love for Wendy adds another layer of intimacy and risk to her journey. When Wendy becomes a victim of the same supernatural force—murdered by her own brother under its influence—the community is shattered. A year later, a memorial trip intended to honor Wendy's memory becomes the setting for renewed horror as the entity resurfaces, turning friends violent and forcing Liz to confront both her grief and the unresolved evil that still lingers.
Victoria Linares steps into the feature film arena with this ambitious project, bringing a fresh perspective to the horror genre. Her directorial vision emphasizes how heteronormative power structures shape every aspect of Dominican society. In her own words, Linares explains that the film examines how the concept of an 'ally' often proves inadequate in such environments. Rather than genuine support, allyship frequently becomes a performative gesture—rooted not in true understanding but in reflexive tolerance that can inadvertently perpetuate oppressive social dynamics.
This thematic depth distinguishes No Salgas from conventional horror fare. The supernatural element serves as a metaphor for the invisible yet devastating forces that queer individuals face daily. The possessed mother and violent brother aren't just random monsters; they represent how familial and social bonds can become weaponized against those who dare to live authentically. The film suggests that ignorance, even when accompanied by good intentions, can contribute to harmful environments where marginalized people remain unsafe.
The cast brings together emerging talent with relevant genre experience. Camila Issa, known for her role in the third season of Nickelodeon's 'Are You Afraid of the Dark?' reboot, takes on a leading role, demonstrating her versatility in navigating horror narratives. Cecile van Welie and Camila Santana round out the principal cast, with van Welie previously appearing in Carajita and Santana in Ramona. Their collective experience in projects that examine social issues through a dramatic lens positions them well to handle the film's dual demands of character authenticity and genre performance.
The Dominican Republic's highly conservative cultural context provides more than just a setting—it becomes an active character in the story. Linares' commentary on the inadequacy of allyship resonates particularly strongly in societies where traditional values dominate public discourse. The film challenges viewers to consider whether tolerance without genuine understanding truly protects vulnerable communities or merely creates an illusion of safety that can shatter under pressure. This critique extends beyond the Dominican context to question how performative allyship functions globally.
ArtHood Entertainment's acquisition of worldwide sales rights signals confidence in the film's commercial and artistic potential. The company likely recognizes the growing international appetite for horror that engages with social issues while delivering genuine scares. No Salgas enters a cinematic landscape where films like Get Out, Hereditary, and The Babadook have demonstrated that genre storytelling can serve as powerful vehicle for exploring trauma, identity, and systemic oppression.
The film's structure—beginning with a traumatic event, moving through a period of suppressed grief, and culminating in a violent confrontation—mirrors the psychological journey many queer individuals experience in hostile environments. Liz's escape at the story's conclusion carries dual meaning: she physically survives the supernatural threat while also recognizing that the underlying social forces remain undefeated. This nuanced ending avoids simple resolution, acknowledging that liberation is an ongoing process rather than a single victory.
Horror has long provided a space for marginalized communities to process real-world fears through metaphorical monsters. No Salgas continues this tradition by using supernatural possession to externalize the internalized homophobia and social violence that queer Dominicans navigate. The possessed mother who kills her child and the brother who murders his sister's lover represent the ultimate betrayal—family becoming the direct agent of destruction rather than protection.
Linares' directorial approach emphasizes atmospheric tension over gratuitous violence, allowing the horror to emerge from character relationships and social dynamics. This method proves particularly effective for stories where the real terror stems from isolation and rejection. By grounding the supernatural elements in authentic emotional experiences, the film creates scares that resonate beyond jump scares, lingering in the audience's consciousness as they consider the real-world parallels.
The production also highlights the growing vitality of Dominican cinema on the international stage. As filmmakers from the Caribbean increasingly gain recognition, they're bringing stories that challenge both local and global audiences to confront uncomfortable truths about identity, power, and belonging. No Salgas represents this wave of culturally specific yet universally relevant storytelling.
For horror enthusiasts, the film promises traditional genre pleasures—a malevolent entity, violent possession, survival against supernatural odds. But its true power lies in how these elements serve a larger conversation about who gets to exist authentically in conservative societies. The memorial trip that goes horribly wrong becomes a metaphor for how communities attempt to remember and honor victims while often failing to address the systemic issues that created the violence in the first place.
As No Salgas prepares for its release, it stands poised to contribute significantly to both queer cinema and horror genre discussions. Its blend of coming-of-age intimacy with supernatural terror creates a unique viewing experience that should appeal to audiences seeking substance with their scares. The film refuses to separate social commentary from entertainment, instead demonstrating that the most effective horror often emerges from our deepest social anxieties.
Victoria Linares has crafted what appears to be a thoughtful, terrifying debut that uses genre conventions to illuminate specific cultural realities. By centering a queer woman's experience in a Dominican context, she expands both horror's representational possibilities and our understanding of how supernatural storytelling can critique very human prejudices. The film reminds us that sometimes the most frightening monsters are those we create through intolerance, and that escaping them requires more than just outrunning the darkness—it demands transforming the society that breeds it.