In the poignant conclusion of Lila Avilés’s Tótem, a moment of profound introspection occurs, encapsulating the essence of the film’s vibrant yet melancholic narrative. Seven-year-old Sol, portrayed brilliantly by Naíma Sentíes, gazes somberly during her father’s birthday celebration, a brief pause amidst the chaos of the day. This fleeting instant, juxtaposed against the lively festivities, symbolizes the complexities of life’s passage, where maturity may dawn in a single breath, just before blowing out the candles.
The occasion marks a party for Tona (Mateo García Elizondo), Sol’s artist father, who is terminally ill. Amidst the bustling preparations, Sol’s mother Lucia (Iazua Larios) entrusts her care to Tona’s sisters, Nuria (Montserrat Marañon) and Alejandra (Marisol Gasé), alongside Tona’s father Roberto (Alberto Amador) and nurse Cruz (Teresita Sánchez). While chaos ensues with last-minute arrangements and eccentric guests, an undercurrent of sorrow permeates the gathering, with loved ones grappling with Tona’s impending fate.
Avilés masterfully captures the vibrancy of familial dynamics, interspersed with moments of quiet reflection and poignant exchanges. Through a unique shooting style and painterly close-ups, Tótem delves into the intricacies of grief and the individual journeys of each character within the close-knit yet disparate family unit. Sol, witnessing the collective struggle of those around her, navigates her own emotions with a maturity beyond her years, embodying the film’s exploration of solitude amidst companionship.
As Tótem unfolds, viewers are drawn into a tapestry of emotions, deftly crafted by Avilés’s direction and Diego Tenorio’s cinematography. The film eschews sentimentality, instead offering a nuanced portrayal of love, loss, and the inevitability of solitude. Through Sol’s introspective gaze and the interconnected lives of the ensemble cast, Tótem resonates as a poignant reflection on the human experience, where resilience and vulnerability intersect in the face of adversity.