Espantaho

♣♣♣/♣♣♣♣♣

Despite suffering from bouts of what looks like epilepsy, Monet (Judy Ann Santos) takes care of everything for her father’s funeral. The patriarch has succumbed to lung cancer and his first family cannot be contacted for whatever reason. Monet’s mother Rosa (Lorna Tolentino) is ever present yet does nothing but nag while her partner Jack (JC Santos) leaves her and the house at the behest of his legal wife. Only the house help and her son lend Monet any kind of necessary support. The first wife Adele (Chanda Romero) finally shows up shortly after the nine days of prayer and mourning have commenced with her two children, Monet’s half-siblings, in tow. They are only in town for obvious reasons, which is to sell the property her legal husband has left behind, including the very house Monet and her son are living in. As a mysterious landscape painting of a scarecrow finds itself inside the house, people begin to disappear.

Acting is one of this film’s strong suits, led by Santos and propped up by strong support from Romero, the two actresses feeding off one another’s dramatic acting chops. They deliver a stellar tag team of great acting by leaning more on the dramatic side of the narrative, tapping into their characters’ grief with the horror element taking the backseat. The rest of the cast are just as able but heavily restricted by what their characters can offer, which is true for both Tolentino and Janice de Belen as Monet’s half sister. Most members of the cast are just there to serve as plot device.

Most of Chito Roño’s horror films are really just supernatural slasher flicks. This means he needs a big cast to satisfy his last-woman-standing template. In this regard, this movie is no different from 2004’s Feng Shui or 2006’s Sukob. From visual style to plot structure all the way to the mediocre CGI that was passable back then but laughable now, his brand of horror did not evolve in the last two decades. At all. Perhaps that is what’s wrong with Espantaho despite being ok in most aspects. It got stuck in an era of mainstream horror from 20 years ago that its director helped popularize. Failing to keep up with innovations in the genre, the end product looks and feels outdated.

If you were already alive back in Kris Aquino’s scream queen heydays, then Espantaho’s style of storytelling will easily be recognizable to you, like an old friend you stumble upon somewhere after 20 years have passed. However, it can be the case that you have already outgrown them by now as your tastes have evolved through the years. That, perhaps, is the best explanation for the weird feeling this film evokes, like you are familiar with it and want to welcome it with open arms but it belongs in a specific period of your past that you have already moved on from and, thus, the effort is no longer that appreciated.

The story also has a lot of explaining to do. Maybe this is the reason why Feng Shui and Sukob were so popular, because they were tied to traditions and superstitious beliefs that most Filipinos were familiar with. Espantaho seems to be based on an original storyline involving a scarecrow painting and the painter behind it who is the source of the narrative’s supernatural twist. It is not explained how he came to be and why the amulet with red soil can ward him off. With such a backstory not based on popular lore and they never bother to explain, it’s risky to assume that the audience will care.

The audience must care because the jump scares are scarce and not that effective. Watching horror films, if one cannot rely on the visceral experience, you segue to the backstory to connect the dots and keep yourself interested. This is Espantaho’s problem. On the other hand, the twist about Tolentino’s character is made obvious even in the trailers, and I like how this subplot is really just a metaphor for grief. We can even argue that this is what allows the film to focus more on its dramatic side, letting its actors shine in the end for capturing grief as a relatable human emotion that is unpleasant yet poignant at the same time.