In the countryside of Galicia, a woman on the run reinvents herself and grapples with questions of motherhood and identity, in Jaione Camborda’s inquisitive and rewarding sophomore effort.
When you first enter the universe of The Rye Horn, you realize at least one thing: sisterhood is essential here. With the help of other women of varied ages, a woman is giving birth in her bedroom, somewhere in Galicia, Spain, in the ’70s.
But then, as the film makes clear: maternity isn’t always rosy, and there are as many layers and angles to it as there are to the film’s protagonist, María (Janet Novás). After trying to help a young woman in trouble, María sees her life going up in flames, and she suddenly has to run away from the authorities.
As we root for María, hoping she gets away with her life, we see her embody a new identity, while facing perhaps her biggest challenge: she has to decide if she can be a mother. Bear with her, though: there are countless rewards for those who give all they can to life, even with its earthly pain. The film's sensuous, inquisitive cinematography and narrative fluidity lavishly illustrate María’s inner and outer journeys.
When she’s at her lowest point, María realizes she’s not alone. There are other women who have been there and have her back. She has a long way to go; this is only the beginning. And you’ll leave María’s universe being glad you got to know her.
DIANA CADAVID
Official Selection, 2023 Toronto International Film Festival
Content advisory: mature themes