‘Distance’ REVIEW: Finally, a family drama valuing emotions over traditions
‘Distance’ REVIEW: Finally, a family drama valuing emotions over traditions
Family members meet again for the first time in five years. From left to right一Iza Calzado, Alessandra Malonzo, Nonie Buencamino, and Therese Malvar. Screenshot taken from Distance’s trailer.
At its very core, Filipino culture places a high value on family above all else. Many things are put on hold or, at worst, disregarded because family should always come first—our dreams, finding a partner, getting married, and even our emotions.
Such cultural norms are commonly embedded in Filipino family dramas. Cathy Garcia-Molina's Four Sisters and a Wedding (2013), Rory Quintos's Anak (2000), Laurice Guillen's Tanging Yaman (2000), and Sayo Lamang (2010) are among the films where resolution to family conflicts is achieved as characters rekindle the importance of family.
Perci Intalan’s Distance, however, prizes emotional validation more and maintains its distance from traditional Filipino family values.
Nonie Buencamino and Iza Calzado in Distance. Screenshot taken from Distance’s trailer.
In the film, Liza (Iza Calzado), facing difficulties, is visited by her husband whom she left five years ago. Without asking any questions or setting conditions, Anton (Nonie Buencamino) offers her to return to their house and their two children, Therese (Alessandra Malonzo) and Karla (Therese Malvar).
While Therese yearns for a maternal figure, Karla remains hurt by her mother's sudden departure. Intalan creates a space for the members of the family, bearing their own burden, to experience emotions and process things in their own ways. Consequently, I was able to empathize with each of them.
The film opens with the depth of Liza’s emotional struggle, portrayed through wide shots of her walking on the vast beach, set against desaturated color grading, somber achromatic production design, and melancholic piano music. From the outset, the film sets its tone — a peculiar silence that carries weight, fragility, and a sense of imminent disruption.
The film's decision to open with this scene is deliberate, aiming not only to set the tone but also to allow viewers to empathize with Liza before delving into the part where she makes mistakes. In doing so, she wasn't immediately vilified to us; instead, we perceive her as a woman burdened with a lot of baggage and pain, someone in need.
In a movie set against a muted background, maintaining the attention and interest of the audience can be a challenge. Intalan and writer Keavy Eunice Vicente made the right choice by withholding the reason for Liza’s five-year disappearance.
It was a well-thought-out and well-executed decision that gives the audience something to anticipate. But credit is also due to the great ensemble. Their subtle but effective acting made it feel as though the heavy silence in the present was brought about by an even heavier matter.
Nonie Buencamino in Distance. Screenshot taken from Distance’s trailer.
To give you another example, let’s talk about Anton (Nonie Buencamino). In contrast to how I typically react when I see excessively forgiving characters, the movie made me empathize with Nonie's character.
There’s a scene where Anton, a psychologist, has a conversation with his patient who’s dealing with the same situation as him. This prompts a flashback to a conversation he had with his sisters. In this flashback, he says in frustration: “Wala akong maisip ngayon kundi wala na ang babaeng mahal ko at hindi na siya babalik. 'Yun lang... hindi na ako makausad from that point... 'yun lang ang kaya kong i-process, okay?”
Just like his sisters, we could advise him on what he should and shouldn’t do for the sake of his children. However, the truth is, Anton is well-aware of all of that. He’s hurting. He’s afraid. He’s trying to understand. And he’s kind of happy, all at the same time. And Buencamino, the great actor that he is, delivered!
The hope of bringing the family back together lies with Therese, who longs for a mother figure she can introduce to her friends and take to school. However, within her character, the story also builds up to the impending outburst of Karla, the oldest sister who still harbors pain and anger towards their mother. The film may have a prolonged buildup to its significant moment, yet upon its arrival, it unfolds logically and leads to realizations afterward.
Therese Malvar in Distance. Screenshot taken from Distance’s trailer.
The last 20 minutes of the movie presents a lot to unpack that is a treat for post-viewing discussions.
“Napalaki niya akong marunong magpatawad pero hindi ka naman nag-so-sorry,” Karla said when she finally burst out, articulating what a child wishes to say to parents who hurt them without the fear of being labeled as ill-mannered.
“Nagluluto ka lang. Nag-pre-prepare ka ng baon. Naghihintay na magically magiging okay ang lahat kahit hindi ka nagpapaliwanag.” As someone raised in a typical Filipino household, these truths resonate deeply and warrant discussion. Children deserve genuine apologies instead of actions that evade responsibility, leaving them with nothing but the inability of supposedly mature individuals to admit their mistakes.
“I am not like you,” this line encapsulates Karla's struggle with her love for another girl. While discussions about coming to terms with one's sexuality often suggest it's easier for today's generation due to society's increased openness, we must also consider individuals like Karla, who grew up associating homosexuality with bad things.
Even though Liza is guilty as sin, the film makes sure that she will not be totally antagonized. Instead, Distance also presents her as a victim of society’s suppressive norms.
Liza's decision to leave her family and live a life of utmost honesty is not easy. She was wracked with remorse and guilt about hurting her family. She even explained earlier in the film that she chose to make her family hate her to the point where they would stop looking for her, sparing her the need to explain herself to them.
Iza Calzado in Distance. Screenshot taken from Distance’s trailer.
While not explicitly depicted in the film, there's a sense that Liza represents another instance of the Later-In-Life Lesbian phenomenon, where a woman identifies as lesbian after years of marriage and even having children. As I said earlier, Distance is a film that consists of characters that are rich in history. Liza’s history prior to her committing the infidelity is what makes me empathize with her.
Intalan also made the right choice on where the film will end as it effectively underscores its core message of prioritizing human emotions over traditional Filipino family values. Sure, the movie validates the emotions and pain of each character, but it also comes with making people accountable to their sins.
Distance will not make you realize how important family is, nor will it compel you to hug your family after watching it. Instead, the film affirms the emotions that are often suppressed, neglected, or set aside due to societal norms.
Distance was shown as part of the IdeaFirst Film Festival.
