My dear readers, while I imagine a happy home depends mostly on its living occupants and their ability to be cordial to one another, there are also certain material combinations that are absolutely essential if true domestic harmony is ever to be achieved. For some time now, I have been looking for a piece of furniture to fill out what seems to be a moaning absence in the decor of our study. The spot I speak of had remained empty for years before I briefly settled on a handsome little triptych that I thought might just tie the room together. Unfortunately, it has a galling habit of opening all on its own and the third panel is a capricious little thing, often altering its appearance to show the viewer in an advanced state of age and decay. Also, to make matters worse, it caught the noontime glow from a nearby windowsill in a most unflattering light and so it has since been relegated to one of the guest bedrooms. Its replacement has eluded us ever since.

Hollowface is also quite familiar with needing to find just the right fit. He is a sorry creature, born without a face and forced to wander around without the benefit of eyes and a mouth and all that sort of thing. There is a healthy bit of lore surrounding his origins and part of it involves how this general lack of features is to blame for his never having known love. And so, instead of working on his personality or conversational skills, Hollowface decides that the path to acceptance involves stealing the face of an innocent child. He has apparently searched much of the European continent for a suitable subject and two youngsters in particular have caught his attention. There is young Juan (Izán Corchero) of Spain and the slightly older Mia (Ella Purnell) of the United Kingdom.

Rather than just make off with one of their faces and be done with it, Hollowface really takes his time with the whole thing, making appearances in the children’s bedrooms night after night. All of this nocturnal attention leads to Juan and Mia screaming at some fairly late hours, much to the consternation of their respective parents. Luisa (Pilar López de Ayala), mother of Juan, hopes to amend the situation by religious means and confides in the Catholic church about her son’s peculiar troubles. John (Clive Owen), father of Mia, invests his own energies in the medical sciences and entrusts his daughter to the local hospital. But Luisa finds little comfort in the church’s tepid response to her claims of evil oppression and John is not at all contented with the hospital’s conclusion that he is a madman who is abusing his daughter. Since neither of these authorities manage to provide a satisfactory remedy, those within Hollowface’s purview are forced to work out the whole thing for themselves.

As far as effective instruments of fright go, I must say that old Hollowface is as fine as any. But a glimpse of his singular visage is bound to quicken the heart rate of children and adults alike. Granted, I did find his moniker to be a trifle misleading, as “Hollowface” certainly seems to suggest something rather concave. In fact, the creature itself has a face more flat in appearance, as though someone had plastered over their regular features. This, I imagine, is a calculated effort on the part of director Juan Carlos Fresnadillo to tap into that most primal of fears -- the fear of the unknown. I, for one, thought I had a comfortably incurvate picture of the film’s antagonist upon hearing his name. And yet right when one expects a certain kind of thing to come around the corner, Mr. Fresnadillo gives us something else entirely. His ability to handle a fundamental terror with such deftness is a testament to his talents behind the camera. As for Hollowface, be it sunken or smooth, I dare say his empty countenance strikes fear all the same.

Intruders runs 100 minutes and is rated R for terror, horror violence, some sexuality, nudity and language.