La Bruja: A Witch from the Bronx

When is a documentary not a documentary? When it's a glorified home movie along the lines of this anemic calling card for poet/performer Caridad de la Luz, who offers recitations of third-rate poetry under the moniker of “La Bruja”(Spanish for “the witch”), although de la Luz is neither a Margaret Hamilton-worthy meanie nor a Billie Burke-inspired angel. De la Luz's notion of being a witch is rooted in the traditions of La Santera, the female priestess of the African-inspired Santeria religion, but what we see onscreen is little more than an extroverted young woman with more ambition than talent. Her spoken word performances, staged throughout New York's club and small theater scene, serve up a rickety mix of ethnic and gender pride emoted with melodramatic fury (in marked contrast to her childish fawning over Sandra Bernhard in a dressing room at one of her venues). La Bruja is much better when it focuses on de la Luz's home life with her incredibly supportive husband and two kids (one, a cute five-year-old diabetic son who requires daily insulin shots). As long as the spotlight is on the family, de la Luz emerges as a charming subject worthy of attention, but when she starts prattling about her performing career or begins spouting off-key literary flights into a microphone (“peeps” is rhymed with “peace”), the film seriously flags. Not a necessary purchase. Aud: C, P. (P. Hall)