Roy and Arturo Ambriz’s I Am Frankelda is an unapologetically terrifying tale for the whole family.
Even in cinema’s earliest days, stop-motion animation has always had a talent for the macabre. From the very first stop trick (a beheading in Alfred Clark’s 1895 The Execution of Mary, Queen of Scots) to the early trick films of Georges Méliès to the corpse puppets of Władysław Starewicz, the medium has always had a frightening edge. It’s hard not to watch something like Segundo de Chomón’s 1908 Sculpteur Moderne — where a clay woman can’t escape being captured and resculpted into herself at different ages — and not experience the same sort of dread brought about by modern films like The Substance.
What makes stop-motion animation particularly unique is the way in which it has become an acceptable way for telling macabre stories to children. Between the works of Henry Selick, Tim Burton, and Laika, it has become normal (if not outright expected) for stop-motion animation to be the closest many children can get to horror. I Am Frankelda, the first Mexican stop-motion feature, takes this to an entirely new level.
The titular Frankelda is Francisca Imelda (Mireya Mendoza), an aspiring writer in 19th-century Mexico. The childhood loss of her mother to tuberculosis has led her to write in the horror genre, much to the chagrin of her strict grandmother and a community that would prefer difficult subjects be ignored entirely.
Arturo and Roy Ambriz build on the legacy of stop-motion.
I Am Frankelda. Cr. Netflix © 2026.
Francisca’s stories frequently focus on the mythical land of Torpus Terrenus, or the Realm of Terrors. Unbeknownst to her, Torpus Terrenus is real. It maintains a tenuous symbiotic relationship with the human realm, sustaining itself on people’s fear and, in turn, providing them with new fears via nightmares. Believe it or not, it’s a mutually beneficial relationship.
But mankind’s growing preference for avoiding their fears has put Torpus Terrenus in jeopardy. Its only hope is for Prince Herneval (Arturo Mercado Jr.) to bring Francisca to his kingdom, where she can assist royal nightmare maker Procustes (Luis Leonardo Suárez) in crafting new tales that people can’t ignore. But Francisca must reckon with the sense of inadequacy that has come with the constant rejection of her work, and Procustes’ personal agenda risks blowing the whole thing up.
I Am Frankelda is written and directed by brothers Arturo and Roy Ambriz, the founders of stop-motion studio Studio Fantasma. The duo’s obvious talent (and their close relationship with Guillermo del Toro) has allowed them to work with clients ranging from Adult Swim to the NFL. They would find enough success here to allow them to produce the anthology series Frankelda’s Book of Spooks, to which I Am Frankelda serves as a prequel.
Horror is important.
While Frankelda’s Book of Spooks focused on standalone horror tales, I Am Frankelda is more concerned with convincing viewers why horror is important. To that end, it is a massive success. The Ambriz Brothers do an excellent job of showing exactly why humans need Torpus Terrenus just as much as its terrors do. Horror, the film explains, is an opportunity. Without fear, we never have the opportunity to overcome fear and thus never have the opportunity to grow.
The film is also very clear about the benefits that horror offers children. No, I Am Frankelda doesn’t expect you to start letting your kids watch whatever slasher happens to be in theaters. But it makes a good case for giving kids the opportunity to experience fear in a safe, controlled environment with people they can trust, so they are better prepared for the emotion when they encounter it in the wild.
Because of this, the film is extremely macabre. Torpus Terrenus is in a state of decay, and the Ambrizes pull no punches in the impact this has not only on the kingdom but on its people. But the film is still very obviously for children. There are plenty of powerful messages about perseverance, honesty, and friendship.
I Am Frankelda finds a strong balance between the fantastical and the macabre.
There is no shortage of musical numbers, and fantastical character design abounds. It’s a good balance, and one parents should enjoy sitting through with their kids.
The animation is an obvious highlight, particularly when the more villainous characters are at play. Shots occasionally feel a little too busy, but even that is only frustrating because it means not getting to enjoy all of the detail that is at play in the puppet, wardrobe, and set design.
Mireya Mendoza is wonderful as the title character, managing the film’s significant exposition with such zeal that audiences should have no problem overlooking the sheer volume of plot and backstory required for a 100-minute children’s film. But the real highlight is Luis Leonardo Suárez, who plays the villain as a bombastic diva that is impossible to look away from.
The bottom line.
In true Hollywood fashion, a film of this caliber with the added historical benefit of being Mexico’s first fully stop-motion animated feature is barely being promoted by its distributor. There’s no logical sense to it, but it does mean that you (yes, you!) can look super cool and hip when you’re the first one to tell other people to watch it. Don’t let this one pass you by.
I Am Frankelda is streaming now on Netflix. Watch the trailer here.
Images courtesy of Netflix.
REVIEW RATING
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I Am Frankelda - 8/10
8/10
Brogan Luke Bouwhuis is a writer and film programmer whose frequent pop culture deep dives have allowed him to write about everything from the Richard Gere gerbil rumor to the history of the holiday yule log video. He co-hosts the Franchise Fiends podcast, co-captains the narrative shorts program at the Slamdance Film Festival, and co-created three children with his wife, Jessica.
