Critic Reviews

The Woman Who Left is an immensely immersive and engaging tale about a wronged individual's grueling struggle between reconciliation and revenge.

The film makes uncompromising demands on your attention and your empathy. But it is also illuminating and, in its downbeat, deliberate way, exhilarating.

Diaz has made an epic-length small film about the powerless, one full of moral urgency that he chooses to elongate and slow down to a crawl. It’s a quiet consideration of grief and mercy, of control taken and freely given up.

Highlighted by the black-and-white, The Woman Who Left is as nocturnal as the best noir, one of those films in which every transition from nighttime to daytime registers as a shock.

Its specific frame of reference sees it build to a bleak and powerful conclusion, if one devoid of much hope.

At once over-repetitive and less surprisingly digressive than some of his other films, The Woman Who Left may not represent Diaz at his absolute peak, but it’s a powerful, thoughtful melodrama that pulls you into its world and delivers a number of irresistible emotional coups.

This occasionally transcendent opus finds Diaz’s formal powers — not least his own incisive monochrome lensing — at full strength.

It’s a film you have to feel your way into, like a ruined church or a haunted house.

The film boasts one of Diaz’s most dramatically conventional, involving, and satisfying narratives.

The Woman Who Left may not be a movie for everyone, but if you allow yourself to settle into its leisurely tempo and marinate in its heroine’s journey, it can be a richly rewarding experience.