Tótem (2023), the latest film by Mexican writer-director Lila Avilés (The Chambermaid), is visually stunning and contemplative, inviting viewers into the quiet and disquieting world of a young child as she navigates the unfolding of a single day.
Shortly after the movie begins, seven-year-old Sol (Naíma Sentíes) stands at the door of her grandfather’s house with a bouquet of balloons. It’s her dad’s birthday and she can’t wait to see him. Sol’s aunties and cousins are there to welcome Sol, breaking momentarily from their cake-baking and cleaning. They’re busy preparing for a birthday party later that night for Sol’s dad, Tona (Mateo Garcia Elizondo).
We learn quickly that Tona, the father, son and brother of this clan, is suffering greatly. He’s dying. Sol is told when she arrives that she can’t see him because he’s resting. Tona’s impending death colors preparations for his birthday celebration. Loss hovers over Sol and everyone else, aware as they are of the preciousness of time and that they’re on the edge of something they don’t understand.
Tótem’s pace is deliciously meditative. Moments are savored despite the long list of the day’s tasks or the familial tensions that flare then fizzle.
Deft camerawork brings us close to the action, following Sol as she bides her time before the party. She wades into tall greenery to find insects in the garden, and moves through the house room by room, interacting with extended family members and passing through intimate domestic scenes that are already in progress.
Though the adults lovingly watch over Sol, for much of the film they continually deny her the one thing she keeps asking for, which is to see her dad. As they try their best to protect Sol by telling her he’s resting for the party and cannot be disturbed, they inadvertently stoke her anxiety. Her questions become more urgent: she wants to know why he won’t see her and wonders if he still loves her. In one scene when she’s alone in a garden shed, Sol asks the Mexican Siri: “When will the world end?”
In a story that’s rich with symbolism of the natural world, with wild and domestic creatures appearing in most scenes, Tona becomes the elephant in the room.
And in her seven-year-old way, Sol’s quest to connect with her dying father embodies the introspection, confusion and grief that can surface when mortality comes knocking for our loved ones.
Later in the film, Tona slowly makes his way into the home’s shared spaces. When the much-anticipated party takes place at the end of the day, optimism is in the air. Revelers muddle through the birthday rituals beautifully, if disoriented. Sol looks to the future in a new way.
Though death hangs over Tótem, it’s neither depressing nor maudlin. Instead, it’s a tender-hearted and compassionate representation of a family rallying in the face of loss.
The film’s strong, naturalistic performances transform ordinary scenes into transcendent moments. Sol’s ultimate reunion with her dad, and the moving scenes between Sol’s aunt Nuri (Montserrat Marañon) and her young daughter, Esther (Saori Gurza) are so full of heart that they stay with you long after the movie has ended.
Director Avilés has said that Tótem is a gift for her daughter and “a celebration of love.” I would add that this near-perfect film is a gift for audiences as well. Tótem unearths a spirituality, a tender wisdom inside us, urging us to slow down for a closer look at the mysterious beauty of life and death.
Tótem can be streamed on the Criterion Channel, Fandango at Home, Prime, and Apple TV.