Venice fest-winning drama benefits from Charo’s firm grasp of character
SANTOS. Commanding presence.
Behind the narrative slow burn of Lav Diaz’s Golden Lion-winning “Ang Babaeng Humayo (The Woman Who Left),” which examines its vengeful protagonist’s search for retribution and redemption, lurks a classic dispute between good and evil.
With the award-worthy Charo Santos breathing scorching life into Horacia Somorostro, the falsely accused schoolteacher at the center of the film’s conflict, Diaz’s exquisitely photographed drama paints a tantalizing portrait of a woman torn between inherent kindness and her gnawing need for revenge.
Providing morally provocative conflict that is devoid of misplaced bravado or estrogen-fueled bluster, the movie follows Horacia’s compelling journey 30 years after she was wrongfully hauled off to prison for a crime her best friend (Shamaine Buencamino) committed.
The comeuppance she yearns for is directed at her spiteful former beau, Rodrigo Trinidad (Michael de Mesa), who framed her for murder after she chose another man to marry.
Psychic wounds
As she begins to lick her psychic wounds, Horacia finds herself tracking down Rodrigo’s trail and enlisting the “aid” of benevolent but clueless strangers who can lead her to the elusive object of her ire. They include Hollandia (John Lloyd Cruz, in a brave thespic vanishing act), the perpetually inebriated transgender who harbors a death wish, and the chummy balut-peddling vendor (Nonie Buencamino) who keeps Horacia company in her lonely and arduous “mission.”
“Humayo” is Diaz’s most “accessible” production to date. It is likewise one of his “short(er)” films, whose running time is only twice the length of an average mainstream movie.
At three hours and 47 minutes, it isn’t as bum-numbing as Lav’s previous oeuvre—like, say, “Ebolusyon ng Isang Pamilyang Pilipino” (10 hours and 30 minutes), “Death in the Land of Encantos” (nine hours), “Hele sa Hiwagang Hapis” (eight hours and five minutes), “Melancholia” (eight hours), “Mula sa Kung Ano ang Noon” (five hours and 38 minutes) and “Norte (Hangganan ng Kasaysayan)” (four hours and 11 minutes).
‘Compromised’ attention span
In general, we don’t like overly lengthy films because, given the “compromised” attention span of viewers who have been weaned on bite-sized, short-form videos on Vine and other video-sharing websites, it’s hard to sustain people’s attention and interest these days. Moreover, compressing a detailed and well-told tale is an art in itself.
Just the same, as far as Lav’s cerebrally irresistible movies are concerned, we’d happily sit through them. You won’t find anybody better at long-form filmmaking than Diaz. In fact, we loved “Mula sa Kung Ano ang Noon” and “Norte,” as our reviews of those films would attest, because we can’t think of any other director who can stage and pull off such fascinating cinematic feats and feasts.
John Lloyd may not be the film’s lead star, but even when cast against type, he manages to hold his own by delivering a no-holds-barred performance that is both astute and insightful.
“Humayo” has its “real-time” moments, too, but they pretty much add up to justify the conflicting emotions that seethe, smolder and stew inside Horacia’s head as she mulls over her continually shifting circumstances—which Charo conveys with alternating thespic ferocity and quiet grace.
Pivotal portrayal
Impelled by her commanding presence, Charo’s pivotal portrayal—one of the very best we’ve seen this year—is as perfectly pitched as it is richly nuanced, but her measured conviction doesn’t make her performance any less involving and affecting. Her stillness is as powerful as her sudden bursts of anger.
Horacia is gentle and mild-mannered on the surface, but we feel her concealed emotions gradually fraying at the seams, and her rancid resentments festering beneath the surface.
Her vile and scathing outbursts are never skin-deep as she struggles to come to grips with her long-simmering anger and hate.
It is this firm grasp of character that guides Charo’s film through its thoughtful, unhurried paces.
