by Surviving La Llorona is a new series that delves into the haunting experiences of individuals who have come face to-face with La Llorona, the weeping woman of folklore. Through their narratives, the series uncovers the enduring power of this terrifying legend. The series was written and directed by horror filmmaker Anubys Lopez, whose other credits include Aged, Those Who Call and Something Scary to Talk About. So what makes a project scary to Anubys? He says, “I’ve always believed that horror is more effective when it creeps into the everyday. To me that’s what horror is about: not monsters hiding in the dark, but fear hiding in the familiar.” We spoke to him about the horror genre and Surviving La Llorona in the below Q&A.
You can watch all three episodes of Surviving La Llorona here.
An Interview With Anubys Lopez
– You were both the writer and director of Surviving La Llorona. What was the writing process like for you on the series?
The writing process started with real stories. Once we began receiving submissions from people who believed they had genuinely survived something paranormal, it shifted from creating fiction to honoring their truth. I saw myself more as a translator—taking their emotional experiences and shaping them into a structured narrative while still preserving the raw fear and vulnerability they felt. Each script was written with the intent to feel real—because, to them, it was.
– The second episode of Surviving La Llorona is entirely in Spanish. Can you discuss why you chose to have this episode be in Spanish and the other two in English?
The Spanish language episode was a deliberate choice to highlight how deeply rooted La Llorona is in Hispanic culture. That particular story took place in a Spanish speaking country, and translating it into English would’ve stripped away some of its authenticity. I wanted the audience, especially Spanish Speaking viewers, to feel like this one was for them, unfiltered. At the same time, I wanted English Speaking audiences to experience that slight cultural distance, to feel what it’s like to hear the story from the inside out.
– You had people submitting stories about their encounters with La Llorona. What was the craziest story you heard?
One story that really stuck with me came from a man who had been driving home late at night near a riverbank when he saw a woman standing in the middle of the road, soaking wet. He swerved to avoid her, but when he looked back, she was gone. Later that night, he heard crying outside his window—soft at first, then louder. When he looked outside, his truck headlights were on and the driver’s side door was open. He swore he never went back out. The creepiest part? He said the seat was wet like someone had been sitting there. It’s those small, eerie details that make you question what’s real.
– With Surviving La Llorona, normal looking objects often seem menacing. Such as the bridge in Episode 3. Was this on purpose?
Absolutely. I’ve always believed that horror is more effective when it creeps into the everyday. That bridge, for example, is just a bridge to most people—but if something traumatic happens there, it transforms. That’s what horror is about to me: not monsters hiding in the dark, but fear hiding in the familiar. We scouted ordinary locations and filmed them in a way that makes you rethink their innocence.
– Music and sound design play such an important part in horror films and can elevate them to another level. Who did you use to score Surviving La Llorona and can you talk about what sort of direction you gave them on how the score should sound?
Kaizad Patel scored the series. He’s a fantastic composer and someone I’ve worked with on three other projects. There’s a reason I keep coming back to him—he just gets it. For Surviving La Llorona, I told him I wanted the music to feel like another presence in the room. Not something that tells you when to be scared, but something that lingers, whispers, and sometimes completely disappears. We focused on dissonant textures and emotional undercurrents—things that creep in rather than blast out. His ability to balance subtlety with dread brought so much depth to the series.
– La Llorona symbolizes and means something different to everyone. What does she represent to you?
To me, La Llorona is generational grief. She’s the embodiment of regret, trauma, and the things we refuse to talk about in our families. She’s a mother, but also a ghost. A protector and a predator. That contradiction is what makes her terrifying—because she’s not just a ghost story. She’s a mirror. Everyone sees what they fear most in her.
– All of the titles you have written and directed fall into the horror genre. What is it that keeps attracting you to horror?
Horror lets me say things I can’t say directly. It gives me permission to explore topics like loss, guilt, mental illness, culture, and trauma without having to explain everything outright. Horror is an emotional truth dressed in nightmare clothing. And audiences—whether they know it or not—come to horror to feel something real.
– Has there been a horror film that has particularly made a lasting impact on you? What about it intrigues you most?
Midsommar really impacted me. It’s visually beautiful and emotionally disturbing at the same time, which is a rare combination. What intrigued me most was how it never relied on darkness or shadows to scare you. It was horror in plain daylight. That taught me something: horror doesn’t need to hide. Sometimes it’s scarier when it doesn’t.
