Lucrecia Dalt

Lucrecia Dalt’s filmography? Oh, it’s weirdly hypnotic, honestly. Let’s start with On Becoming a Guinea Fowl (2024). This one’s not your average flick—think sharp, sometimes uncomfortable family drama with a surreal twist. The story creeps through a funeral in Zambia, peeling back the layers of a family’s secrets. There’s all this tension simmering just beneath the surface, and Dalt’s sound design? It’s like she’s building a haunted house out of whispers and footsteps. You end up feeling like the walls themselves are listening in. Then there’s The Baby (2022), which is… well, it’s bananas. A horror-comedy miniseries about a woman who stumbles into caring for a deeply disturbing, possibly supernatural baby. The plot veers into absurdity, but it’s done on purpose. Dalt’s music practically crawls under your skin, making everything feel even more off-kilter. Honestly, if you’re into stories where the mundane goes full-on bonkers, this one’s your jam. The Seed (2021) is another oddball. It’s a sci-fi horror ride about a group of friends whose desert getaway spirals into body horror territory after a meteor crashes nearby. Instead of going full action, the movie oozes dread and dark humor, and Dalt’s atmospheric score is a huge part of that. Her style doesn’t just accompany the visuals—it sort of seeps into them, messing with your sense of reality. All three projects? Strange, bold, and absolutely unforgettable.