Film Review - Tótem
Images courtesy of Cinema Nova.
The second feature from Mexican director Lily Avilles, Tótem, is an incredibly assured and mature film that depicts the emotional intimacy and fragility of an extended family dealing with loss.
The film follows Sol (Naima Senties), a child returning to her family’s home to see her father – Tona (Mateo Garcia) – who has cancer and has refused chemotherapy treatments. The film largely follows the preparation and events of Tona’s birthday party, with mixed feelings, strained relationships, and childhood trauma brought to the forefront by the festivities.
Tótem’s greatest strength is its subtlety and restraint, so despite its almost maudlin subject matter, it is never overwrought or saccharine. Character dynamics are carefully built up over the runtime, for instance the absence of Sol’s mother for most of the film’s runtime is never remarked upon or drawn attention to, but it is heavily felt. Likewise, Aviles includes only a single scene between Tona and his father, but gives the actors enough space and material to build pathos that immediately communicates the condition of their relationship to the audience. It’s a mature style of filmmaking that demonstrates a deep trust in the audience being willing to plumb the film’s emotional depth.
It's also a style of filmmaking that puts a huge amount of onus on the actors for sentiment. Each member of the family is so fully realised that the limited screen time would be wasted establishing their characters, instead communicating their identities by small movements and gestures that make each distinct. Mateo Garcia in particular is a standout, and the effects of cancer on his body are depicted with the kind of brutal honesty that can only come from personal experience. It’s heartbreaking watching him attempt to summon the energy to see his daughter, possibly for the last time, while his body completely betrays him. Naima Senties is also a standout as Sol, brilliantly portraying the character’s curiosity and preciousness through understated performance that thrives in the film’s quieter moments.
The emotional realism of the performances are mirrored in the film’s form: hand-held camera work and naturalist mise en scène may belie naturalism, but films don’t look this good on accident. Aviles demonstrates an attention to colouring a nostalgic palate and texture that is reminiscent of Chantel Ackerman’s close attention to detail. The family home that serves as the film’s sole location is an authentic mix of foreign and familiar that recalls memories of visiting my own grandparents house.
The film is full of this nostalgic sentiment, and mixed with the atmosphere of loss surrounding a dying family member it culminates in a deeply sad film. Tótem brought me to tears multiple times, and when it finally ended, I found myself overwhelmed by its depiction of a fracturing family trying to pull together. Much like Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun, Tótem is a film that deals with subject matter that will no doubt impact viewers on different and deeply personal levels, but the assuredness and sensitivity of the filmmaking is sure to leave a mark.
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Tótem is screening exclusively at Cinema Nova now. For tickets and more info, click here.