The Scarecrow that Did Not Scare: A Review on "Espantaho"

Photo courtesy: Random Republika

In a country where agricultural lands make up about 43% of the landscape, it was intriguing to see a horror film draw on a Filipino folklore figure not often seen on screen—an espantaho (literally, a scarecrow). Unlike the typical aswang, manananggal, or tiyanak, this year's Metro Manila Film Festival introduced a fresh character, piquing my curiosity about whether this ghostly figure could live up to its compelling trailer.

Plot and Premise

Espantaho follows Monet (Judy Ann Santos) and her mother Rosa (Lorna Tolentino) as they mourn the death of patriarch Pabling in their ancestral home. The film begins with “Pasiyam”, a Filipino tradition of prayer for the departed, but their mourning soon turns to terror when strange occurrences disrupt the ritual.

Photo courtesy: IMDb

Complicating matters, Pabling’s legal wife, Adele (Chanda Romero), arrives with her children, Andie (Janice de Belen) and Roy (Mon Confiado), demanding her share of the family inheritance. As family tensions escalate, the women must confront darker, malevolent forces haunting the house.

The Boons

The cinematography and musical score were effective, though not particularly remarkable. They were fairly typical but met expectations. What made the film highly enjoyable was the stellar acting of Santos, Romero, and Tolentino. While the conflict among their characters rehashed familiar tropes, the execution was outstanding—worthy of a “chef’s kiss.” This earned Santos the “Best Actress” award and secured nominations for Romero and Tolentino as “Best Supporting Actress.” Characters played by Donna Cariaga, Janice de Belen, Mon Confiado, among others, were portrayed exceptionally well.

Photo courtesy: IMDb

As a fan of films that explore cultural themes, I also found the use of “Pasiyam” as the film’s backdrop to be a delightful touch. It added a unique flavor to the wake scenes of the deceased while embodying the Filipino culture.

The Banes

While the performances and execution by the actresses were commendable, they couldn’t fully elevate the film. The lackluster flow of the story prevented it from genuinely horrifying viewers. The characters seemed oddly unaffected by the supernatural events—table flips, cane hits, and even people completely disappearing—which felt unrealistic. How can someone easily dismiss the disappearance of their children? How can they move on after vomiting a live rat? Wouldn’t these events warrant serious discussion or alarm? Horror works best when characters are visibly scared, yet in this film, strange occurrences happen only for the story to quickly move on, as if nothing ever occurred.

Moreover, the backstory fails to adequately explore the scarecrow. As I mentioned earlier, the idea of making this entity the central figure in a horror film was intriguing. Remember how the dolls Maria, Leonora, and Teresa were used in the film of the same name? It could have been like that—adding depth and meaning to the scarecrow's presence. However, the poorly executed backstory—revealed only in the final moments—raises more questions than answers. The scarecrow feels more like bait to draw viewers in, but its minimal presence and lack of meaningful reference make it a missed opportunity rather than a compelling part of the story.

Final Verdict

Photo courtesy: IMDb

The performances of the female cast, especially Santos’ and Romero’s emotional depth, were far more unsettling than the scarecrow itself. Ultimately, while the potential was there, the film falters due to its underdeveloped horror elements and missed opportunities, leaving the scarecrow as little more than a fleeting, ineffective figure. Watch “Espantaho” on Netflix.