Film & TV

‘Tótem’ understands grief like no other

Mexico’s Oscars submission makes a teary homage to young sorrow.

DESCRIBE THE IMAGE FOR ACCESSIBILITY, EXAMPLE: Photo of a chef putting red sauce onto an omelette.
Tona (Mateo García Elizondo) holding his daughter Sol (Naíma Sentíes) in Tótem. Photo Courtesy of Sideshow / Janus Films.

In the recently limited release, “Tótem,” noise is comfort. Lila Avilés designs a busy nature and chaos that never becomes distracting. The film is set on Sol (Naíma Sentíes), a 7-year-old girl in a typically large and connected family. Dog barks, chatter on the phone and music is the score for 95 minutes. It’s Avilés’ way to connect you closer to Sol and inside this Mexican family’s home.

Sol and her mother Lucía (Iazua Larios) exchange laughs before the girl brings up her dying father Tona (Mateo García Elizondo). When she arrives at her grandfather’s house she is greeted by the rest of her family as they prepare for Tona’s birthday party. As time grows, more traffic arrives in the home, yet Sol isolates herself and squeezes the feelings of being alone.

Early in the film, Sol is curious about her father as he is kept away from her upstairs. Tensions rise as conversations about money for treatment and other bills arise in the background. As Sol is trying to figure out what is happening to her father and family, so is the audience — it is a careful unraveling.

Despite its naturally devastating plot, the tone of the film is distracted by a comforting family dynamic. The playful teasing of cousins and bantering between sisters are gestures that feel close and relatable. Most notably, the film is a slice of Mexican life; a bustling home, the newspaper cone used to heal an earache, the crowded walls, the women ruling the home, endearing names and notes of spirituality. It is immersive and is as if you are at Tona’s party with the family. Its familiarity is a double-edged sword, as these shots taking up screentime will either connect with audiences or be left unappreciated.

What makes the connection so intimate is the camera work by Diego Tenorio. Tenorio leaves you craving to see more and more. But, its focus on characters and expression is what creates harmony on screen. Most notably when Sol is allowed to see her father. The intimacy within these moments becomes tearful. Previously, all the shots of ill Tona were cold and colored in greys and blues. When Tona is around his daughter and family, the lights glimmer with warmth — symbolizing the last embrace. Mateo García Elizondo meets Naíma Sentíes with an equally warm-hearted performance, creating a clasp and visual bond within the film. The contrast of Tona alone is paralleled by the reunion with Sol makes for a teary moment. Every breathing second with the two is gentle. Their loving caress is one you can experience yourself.

But what the film does best is understand what it means to experience grief as a child. Sol is experiencing the loss of her childhood, constantly being reminded by her family. She is given gifts and hears pity from her tios. In frustration with her emotions, she becomes “rebellious” as her family has labeled her.

Sol is the picture of grief. Her questions about her father and wishes for his health to become better position her in situations of denial and bargaining. Her avoidance is a representation of all who become submerged in loss. It is a stomach-turning feeling to watch a girl become forced to grow up.

What filmmakers often forget about creating a movie about grief is life before death. To see a loved one slipping away might even be more painful than the process after. The days before the passing are the ones you remember more than the days after. Avilés’ direction and the performances by this cast, take this sentiment to life on screen.

DESCRIBE THE IMAGE FOR ACCESSIBILITY, EXAMPLE: Photo of a chef putting red sauce onto an omelette.
Nuri (Montserrat Marañon) on the floor in Tótem. Photo Courtesy of Sideshow / Janus Films.

Avilés and Tenorio create a picture of pain outside of Sol within the women of the film. It is a typical matriarchal structure in the house as the sisters attempt to manage their feelings. At the same time, they are figuring out finances and tending to the children of the house while pretending everything is alright. A moment of weakness is shown as Nuri (Montserrat Marañon), Tona’s sister, falls to the floor of desperation. The moments mean even more with performances that drive the film forward and pull the entire cast together.

What will displease some viewers is its visual reliance. Avilés’ screenplay is a light stack of pages and emphasizes “show not tell.” It is expected to see “Tótem” face criticisms of “lack of plot,” due to its limited screenplay and a day’s timeline.

It is unfortunate the film was only shortlisted for Best International Feature at the Oscars, as its emotional density is one of the best from this year’s list.