Totem
With her second feature, Mexico’s Lila Avilés confirms her stature as an outstanding filmmaker.
With her very first feature The Chambermaid made in 2018, the Mexican writer/director Lila Avilés gave us a work that came close to being a masterpiece. It has taken her five years to create another feature film but we now have Totem and, if it is not quite as satisfying as its predecessor, it is an achievement no less extraordinary. As might have been expected Totem is again a very naturalistic work but it has a very different feel to it because of its timescale. The Chambermaid was minimalistic in character portraying the daily life of its titular figure, an employee in a large hotel in Mexico City. Totem is also a work that does not rely on a dramatic storyline but it is set during the course of a single day and viewed largely through the eyes of a seven-year-old child, Sol (Naíma Sentíes).
The setting is again Mexico's capital but, save for a brief prologue, the whole film takes place in the home of Tonatiuh, a painter (Mateo García Elizondo). Sol is his daughter and this particular day is his birthday. However, the party being held for him by his sister Alejandra (Marisol Gasé) is not a standard event of this kind. It will be a large family gathering and all the adults present are aware that it is a virtual farewell because Tona, as they call him, is dying of cancer. This is not a new thing in the family since Sol's grandmother had herself died of cancer and her husband (Alberto Amador), although still alive and housed by Alejandra, can only speak through a voicebox. Also present throughout the day is another sister, Nuria (Montserrat Marañon), who has a daughter of about the same age as Sol, this being Esther (Saori Gurza) who is something of a playmate for Sol. That is all the more handy because Sol’s mother, Lucia (Iazua Larios), is an actress and her work is such that she will be absent until the party in the evening. Until then Tona will be resting to build up his strength and with encouragement from his attentive nurse, Cruz (Teresa Sánchez from The Chambermaid) he hopes to be fit enough to at least put in an appearance.
By the time that the evening begins the house is full of family members and friends and that's the kind of set-up which can be troublesome for a filmmaker because viewers may be confused trying to work out the relationships of those present. Fortunately, Avilés is very astute in her handling of this: the main figures are distinctive enough in appearance and manner to aid the viewer in this respect and when later on the numbers involved increase nothing turns on our being able to identify them exactly.
The everyday nature of what is depicted has reminded some of the films of Ozu which is fair enough since everyone we encounter feels as though they belong to real life. Young Naíma Sentíes in the key role of Sol is one of the most natural child actors ever. Furthermore, the observant writing by Avilés is spot-on in capturing the curiosity of a seven-year-old who is always asking questions yet still exists very much inside her own world. But what marks Totem as exceptional is the sense that every person on screen exists so completely as a person that one could think of them is being present in 3D. We may mostly observe them through Sol’s eyes yet they immediately possess a sense of having a life beyond what we actually see. We can tell that they all have their own problems and tensions, their own worries, even if these things are represented only through passing remarks which Sol herself is too young to understand. Indeed, when using medical terms the adults resort to splitting up the pronunciation of these words in case Sol or Esther might become too aware of just how ill Tona is. It is only the nurse who consciously speaks to Sol not as a child but as a fully-fledged person yet being careful of exactly what she tells her.
All of this is meticulously presented and perfectly cast as exemplified by the utterly convincing portrayal of Tona’s condition. Furthermore, the relatively short running time (95 minutes) ensures that the absence of a plot as such does not become a drawback. But, precise as the film is, it is rather left to the viewer to decide why Avilés chose to call her film Totem: are the characters symbols of families in general or even of all humanity? The answer to that question may be uncertain, but it doesn't matter. What is arguably less satisfying is the fact that Totem closes with a scene that seems open to individual interpretation. The film’s prologue starts with a finely observed look at the rapport and affection between Sol and her mother and concludes when Sol makes a wish and we learn what her wish is, namely that her father will not die. Although expressed in those terms, we cannot really tell just how aware she is that such a death is indeed imminent – actually it feels as though it is no more than half-recognised at most. The close of Totem also involves Sol being expected to make a wish but now holding back and that could be read as the moment when for the first time true awareness of the dark side of life sets in. But, if this is the intention (and other interpretations are quite possible), it seems to come so suddenly that for me its full impact is undermined. While I needed something more here, that does not prevent me from hailing this film for its remarkable ability to capture life as it is lived. Regardless of any reservations, Totem confirms Lila Avalés as a filmmaker of the first rank.
Original title: Tótem.
MANSEL STIMPSON
Cast: Naíma Sentíes, Montserrat Marañon, Marisol Gasé, Saori Gurza, Mateo García Elizondo, Teresa Sánchez, Iazua Larios, Alberto Amador, Marisela Villarruel, Juan Francisco Maldonado, Miguel Vassallo.
Dir Lila Avilés, Pro Tatiana Graullera, Lila Avilés and Louise Riousse, Screenplay Lila Avilés, Ph Diego Tenorio, Pro Des Nohemi Gonzalez Martinez, Ed Omar Guzmán,, Music Thomas Becka, Costumes Nora Solis and Jimena Fernández.
Limerencia Films/Laterna/Paloma Productions/Alpha Violet Production-New Wave Films.
95 mins. Mexico/Denmark/France. 2023. UK Rel: 1 December 2023. US Rel: 26 January 2024. Cert. 12A.
