An effective ghost story is often about a presence defined by an absence. In the architecture of espionage fiction, the most haunting ghost is the operative whose own identity has become the absence, a void filled by a meticulously constructed lie. She Walks in Darkness is this kind of ghost story. Its narrative is not one of car chases or clever gadgets but of the slow, methodical hollowing out of a human being. The film introduces us to Amaia, a Civil Guard officer in 1992 who agrees to be surgically removed from her own life.
Her mission is to become a phantom within the terrorist organization ETA, a performance she must sustain for twelve agonizing years. Director Agustín Díaz Yanes immediately establishes that the true conflict is internal. The physical danger is constant, yet the greater threat is psychological annihilation. The film is a long, tense exhalation, a story about the immense weight of a lie and the terrifying possibility that after so long, the ghost may be all that is left.
Portrait of an Impostor
The film’s success is anchored by Susana Abaitua’s precisely calibrated performance as Amaia. Her work is a study in subtraction, communicating a universe of feeling through what she withholds. The character’s survival depends on being unreadable, and Abaitua makes that inscrutability an active, gripping process.
Her stillness is her shield; her quiet, watchful gaze her primary tool. We see the deep-seated fear and the unwavering sense of duty not in grand emotional displays, but in a flicker of the eyes or a momentary hesitation before speaking. The narrative is an extended exploration of identity sacrifice, pushing the concept to a brutal extreme. This is not about a temporary disguise. It is a twelve-year systematic dismantling of a person.
The script makes the intriguing choice to keep the audience at a clinical distance. We are observers of Amaia’s ordeal, not participants in her emotional landscape. This strategy denies us conventional catharsis. Instead, we are forced to engage with the mechanics of her survival and the sheer logistical and psychological nightmare of her daily existence. It is a demanding approach, one that values the cold authenticity of the situation over audience comfort, effectively communicating the immense human cost of her service.
History’s Unflinching Gaze
Agustín Díaz Yanes directs with the steady hand of a proceduralist. His style is cold, measured, and rigorously controlled, focusing on the process and detail of Amaia’s infiltration. The film’s aesthetic feels inherited from the stark European thrillers of the 1970s, prioritizing atmosphere and psychological realism. This tone is powerfully amplified by Paco Femenía’s cinematography.
The visual world is steeped in oppressive shadows and melancholic, muted colors, creating a sense of confinement that mirrors Amaia’s psychological entrapment. She is often framed in isolation, a small figure against an indifferent or hostile backdrop. The film’s most significant and challenging narrative device is its recurring use of real archival news footage.
At key moments, the fictional story abruptly halts to present raw, unadorned clips of ETA attacks and their aftermath. This is a bold structural choice. It functions as an act of historical conscience, interrupting the flow of the spy narrative to insist on remembrance. It forces the viewer to confront the brutal reality that underpins the fiction, adding a profound and sobering weight to Amaia’s mission and transforming the film into a document of national trauma.
The Codes of Conflict
The world of the film is populated with figures who serve the narrative with grim efficiency. The ETA members Amaia lives among, particularly the female ideologues played by Iraia Elias and Ariadna Gil, are crucial to the film’s tension. Their fanaticism is not theatrical; it is presented as a quiet, almost bureaucratic conviction, which makes their capacity for violence all the more disturbing. They are the constant, low-level hum of danger in Amaia’s life.
Her handler, played by Andrés Gertrúdix, represents her only connection to her former reality, yet he is also a symbol of the institutional machine that demands her sacrifice. The script also weaves in distinctive stylistic flourishes that add a strange, poetic layer to the harsh story. Classic Italian songs are used as a means of coded communication, and Amaia’s cover includes an expertise in the poetry of W.B. Yeats. These are not random details.
They are narrative codes for the suppressed self, fragments of beauty, art, and personal history surviving within a life that officially has none. They represent the ghost of the woman she was, making their appearance both a small act of defiance and a constant, perilous risk.
“She Walks in Darkness” (Spanish title: Un fantasma en la batalla) is a 2025 Spanish political thriller film written and directed by Agustín Díaz Yanes. The movie is inspired by the real experiences of members of the Civil Guard who worked undercover during the fight against the terrorist group ETA, focusing on a young agent named Amaia. The film had its release at the San Sebastian Film Festival on September 24, 2025, and is scheduled to be released globally on the streaming platform Netflix on October 17, 2025.
Full Credits
Director: Agustín Díaz Yanes
Writers: Agustín Díaz Yanes
Producers and Executive Producers: Belén Atienza, Sandra Hermida, J.A. Bayona
Cast: Susana Abaitua, Andrés Gertrúdix, Iraia Elias, Raúl Arévalo, Ariadna Gil, Eduardo Rejón, Iñaki Balboa, Jaime Chávarri, Cris Iglesias, Anartz Zuazua, Mikel Losada
Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Paco Femenía
Editors: Bernat Vilaplana
Composer: Arnau Bataller
The Review
She Walks in Darkness
She Walks in Darkness is a demanding and deliberately paced espionage procedural, more interested in the psychological corrosion of deep cover work than in conventional thrills. Anchored by a superb, restrained performance from Susana Abaitua, the film is a chillingly effective portrait of identity sacrifice. Its cold, methodical direction and stark use of historical footage create a powerful, somber experience. This is a serious, intelligent film that lingers, trading suspense for a more profound sense of dread and the immense cost of duty.
PROS
- A powerful and restrained lead performance by Susana Abaitua.
- Cold, methodical direction that creates a tense, oppressive atmosphere.
- Effective integration of real archival footage, grounding the narrative in historical fact.
- An intelligent focus on the psychological toll of deep cover operations.
CONS
- The deliberate, slow pace may not appeal to viewers seeking a conventional thriller.
- Its clinical, emotionally distant approach to the protagonist could alienate some.
- The subject matter may feel familiar to those acquainted with other films about ETA infiltrators.
