Tótem

I saw this movie 2 hours ago and still have a lump in my throat.

An absolutely real and utterly absorbing story about a family living through a loss, together- magically - before the loss had even fully occurred.

The amazing thing about this movie to me was what it did NOT say. Never preachy, always forgiving - as we are with those we love - the screenplay painted the negative space, telling a far more eloquent story by letting us fill in the blanks with our own experiences.

Acting was terrific- which in this film meant that they didn't seem as if they were acting at all. Every actor fully inhabited their characters, effortlessly. Seamlessly. We watched them, these people, and laughed with them, and felt what they felt. I feel as if I'd been invited to the gathering as a part of the family.

So many scenes I'm left thinking about- wondering about not only what was unsaid but what had come before, and what went after. And then I realize I already know.

Finally, I would say the timeless "TOTEM" is, simply, an indelible statement on the value of life and love, and the meaning of our passing - as meaningful and as beautiful in its way as life itself. This movie is not only, suddenly, one of my favorite movies ever, but I'd say it's also one the few I've seen that changed me.

To me, this film is testament to film as a vehicle to make us feel, and remember to always feel, alive.

Tótem follows Sol, a seven-year-old girl, as she spends a day at her grandfather's house, where her family is making preparations for a surprise birthday party for Sol's father, Tona.

This movie could be described as a cinematic stream of consciousness since the family dynamics depict dysfunctionality seen in different ways in each character and how they manage with the fact that Tona has cancer and his deteriorated health make any future uncertain.

Tótem is efficient in saying without words. Communicating with images that speak louder than any dialogue could. This allows the development of the story to be smooth yet effective in an empathic and natural way.

I'm not usually fan of children in films, but boy - Naíma Sentíes' performance here as the young "Sol" is terrific. She, replete with multicoloured curly wig is with her mother preparing for a party to celebrate her father's birthday. What we learn from very early on is that her dad "Tona" (Mateo Garcia) is very unwell. Indeed, from the brief scene we see of him in the shower - this is a twenty-seven year old not destined to survive much longer. Clearly that information is known amongst the man's family and friends with his sisters, and his father, taking quite distinctly differing approaches to dealing with their impeding loss. The story takes it's time, but it's never dull. The observational nature of the drama, and the hugely charismatic effort from the young Sentíes is enthralling to watch as their day continues revealing stresses, strops, strains and a slightly defiant degree of optimism. As ensemble performances go, Marisol Gasé, Montserrat Marañon and Teresa Sánchez ensure that this well cast and presented story of a family in distress works evocatively. There are few tantrums, just a stoicism and dignity that makes this really quite a poignant story of a young girl - and a family - that doesn't quite appreciate that life is soon to change for ever.

Tona is dying and this is the day of his birthday and his family are holding a party for him. Lila Aviles' stunning debut feature "Totem" observes the events of the day in almost forensic detail and how they impact on all the participants; Tona's father, his sisters, his extended family and friends, his carer and most of all on his young daughter, Sol, who doesn't know her father is dying yet senses it nevertheless.

There's nothing sentimental nor particularly dramatic in Aviles' film. It's as if she and her camera just dropped by to record the events of just one day in these people's lives and what happens is both funny and moving like life itself. All the performances are superb and Naima Senties is often quite extraordinary as Sol. On the strength of this one film Aviles would seem to have quite a future ahead of her.

The everyday lives of average individuals ordinarily might not make for especially engaging storytelling. However, when they're framed within the context of extraordinary circumstances, they take on an added new dimension, as witnessed in the second offering from Mexican writer-director Lila Avilés. This warm, heartfelt, bittersweet comedy-drama tells the endearing story of a family hosting a birthday party for Tona, a young, beloved painter battling advanced cancer (Mateo Garcia Elizondo), told largely through the perspective of his seven-year-old daughter, Sol (Naíma Sentíes), who hopes against hope for her father's recovery. As events play out, viewers watch as Tona's family makes preparations for the celebration - often involving simple tasks told with delightfully funny twists that provide much-needed comic relief - as well as the various means with which his relatives are dealing (or not dealing) with an apparently impending inevitability that no one really wants to address or discuss. Yet what might seem destined to be an exercise in forced festivities with an underlying sense of morbidity turns out to be a loving, earnest celebration of life, despite the undeniable presence of an unwanted, intangible "guest" lingering in the background. While the film incorporates a few sequences that are inherently a little too incidental in nature compared to the larger overall narrative, "Tótem" nevertheless serves up a charming, touching, authentically presented tale that reaches out to audiences and surrounds them with sincere, loving feelings and a big, well-earned hug. This National Board of Review winner and Independent Spirit Award nominee is a fine, little-known indie gem that will surely move you, even if it leaves you with uncomfortably mixed feelings as its story unfolds. It effectively illustrates that there indeed can be times of boundless, overwhelming joy even in the face of overwhelming lament but that what ultimately matters most is what we make of these circumstances when they play out, especially when it comes to expressing how we feel for those whom we truly care about most.