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.

Among the 10 best films I saw in 2023, four are about little girls who, in their childhood and growth, confront situations that transcend their daily activities, due to the strength or charm of the events. In the medium-length film «Le pupille» by the Italian director Alice Rohrwacher, the events that the girls experience during Christmas, in the middle of World War II, are closer to play and rebellion; but in «Alma viva» by the Portuguese cineaste Cristèle Alves Meira, «Brujería» by the Chilean filmmaker Christopher Murray and now in «Tótem» by Mexican director Lila Avilés, three girls must face powerful situations that affect their family stability.

«Tótem» revolves around the birthday party of Tonatiuh (played by screenwriter Mateo García Elizondo), a 27-year-old painter who is dying of cancer. This celebration will mark the life of his daughter, little Sol (Naima Sentíes), who, in the morning, arrives at the house of her psychologist grandfather (and father of Tonatiuh or Tona), where the party will be held. However, staying at her father's house is not a pleasant experience. The residents include two aunts who are mothers and do not seem to have a partner of any gender; three cousins and the woman who takes care of Tona. Among the eight residents there is a dynamic that makes the family dysfunction very evident, and Tona's illness seems more like a consequence of this toxic coexistence.

There is no mention of why Sol and her mother do not live with them, even though they both adore Tona, who is dying out, getting thinner, weaker and more suffering, and who will need extra strength and effort to be present at the party. During the morning, a spiritualist (who carries out a spiritual cleansing of the house, through rituals and incense) and a client of the grandfather also arrive: both women contribute to creating our impression of emotional imbalance. The house (no misogynistic allusion on my part) is like a matriarchal cage, where the men seem almost mutilated: the grandfather has lost the voice and Tona is dying. And I feel this impression because of the strength of the three main female characters in the house, compared to grandfather and Tona, who seem like byproducts of this family unit.

The excellence of Liles' direction and script, Diego Tenorio's cinematography, and of the performances by all cast members, combine to bringing this family to life on a crucial day in their lives and creating an exceptional film.

Tona is Sol's father and he's very sick. He will soon die and the movie follows his family going through the preparations of his farewell birthday party as well as the party itself.

The movie focuses on Sol's day and how she is dealing with this as well as all the other family members and their various ways of coping (or not...) with Tona's imminent death.

While the acting is top notch, the subject is really depressing and the fact that the film is basically a huis-clos (even the scene shot in the car doesn't show anything but the car's interior) makes it a suffocating and unpleasant experience. Obviously the death of a loved one is a mournful experience but that degree of realism can hit you pretty hard.

The movie theater audience felt certainly just as drained as I was at the end. People just sat in their seats as the end credits rolled in, taking in the huge blow they just experienced. Do NOT watch this movie if you're already feeling low.

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.

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.