Tótem
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
How do we go about the first time we have to introduce the concept of death, grief, and trauma to a child? That’s a concern all parents will face someday when loved ones pass (or are on their way out). Numerous films have tackled the notion of a kid coming of age in the face of such circumstances, and Mexican director Lila Avilés (best known for 2018’s The Chambermaid) is the latest filmmaker to tackle such a concept with Tótem. All throughout 2023, Tótem has proven to be a film festival darling with the knack for being recognized for awards (some of which it picked up, like the Prize of the Ecumenical Jury at last year’s Berlin International Film Festival, where it also competed for the Golden Bear award). It’s easy to see why it has resonated so highly with audiences around the world, given Avilés’ quirky-yet-serious perspective on the trickiness of life events such as the ones present here through the eyes of a seven-year-old child named Sol.
Sol is spending time at her grandfather’s house in preparation for a birthday party for her dad, Tona. What she doesn’t know yet is that everyone is gathering together for this surprise event because it is likely the last birthday Sol’s father will ever have, as he is suffering from terminal cancer. This birthday is meant to be a celebration of life and family, but it also brings out some of the dysfunction that has been simmering under the surface for years (even generations). It’s not atypical for pent-up feelings — even the negative ones — to erupt during vulnerable times, and Tótem knows how to go about these unpleasantries (as well as the indescribable elation of when family get-togethers work as they should). Tótem is even condensed in a squarish aspect ratio, forcing us not just to get uncomfortably close with others during the cheers and the discomfort, but to also hone in on what matters in life; it’s difficult to know what Tótem wants you to fixate on in each scene, and that’s part of the artistry here. Life is too short to know what all of the best choices and priorities are; as long as family is a part of the picture frame the entire time, your life has been a full one.
All of Tótem’s confrontations and consoling build up to the startling final frame where the severity of the situation rushes up to Sol, who now feels the weight of the world on her shoulders while presented with the opportunity to make a wish. She suddenly realizes that blowing out candles will only get one so far, and that these happy times are sadly not miracle workers that will erase the tough ones. We conclude with shots of emptiness: not just reminiscent of the departed, but the importance of having loved ones nearby while they are alive (even the surviving family members are nowhere to be seen). A shot of scorpions nestling in a crevice (that is so short that you’ll miss it if you blink) is the final reminder that family can live through anything together, whenever, wherever. To reinforce this mentality with Sol and her family would have been cheesy; they are clearly just starting the heaviest moments of grief. To find this hope in other beings is a clever move by Avilés, who is a director to keep an eye on. Tótem is so precise in its orange, olive, murky colour scheme that is equal parts full of life and rustic. The emotional balance is so strong that you’ll never know when the film will dip into which mindset. This is a film that I could have had an additional two hours of, and that’s my only brief suggestion: Avilés can aim to do even more with her strong visions and artistry once Tótem gets the recognition it rightfully deserves. I cannot wait to see where she goes from here; Lila Avilés already seems to be getting stronger as a director so early in her career.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.