A unique and tender ethnographic study on grief as told through the rituals of the Krahô tribe of Brazil. The five stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance - perfectly map onto this films trajectory as Ihjãc goes to and returns from the city to escape his fateful role as a shaman. A little too long in parts, but always beautiful.
Mesmerising. This a depiction of three things; a societal process for honouring the dead and moving on, the trappings and wonders of that society amidst the almost alien, modern world and the spiritually pre-arranged path in life for our protagonist. The direction, editing and flow are top notch, with abundant atmosphere. I adored Ihjac’s dream and indecision scenes in the city and the gorgeous otherworldly ending. x
Las comparaciones con Apichatpong Weerasethakul no le hacen justicia, esta película es lenta pero no soporífera. Grab retrato de un modo de vida completamente distinto, los Kraho parecen vivir en un país distinto al interior de Brazil, en una realidad distinta dentro de la que compartimos. Algunas secuencias son simplemente mágicas.
I really enjoyed this film. Grief shows itself in different ways and I think it’s interesting how people cope in different ways. I had to remind myself several times that he was 15 even though he had a child and a wife. The cinematography was breathtaking especially the first scene and the fire scene.
A sincere film, with a strong sense of duty to and respect for these people and this culture. I felt the filmmakers wanting this to be beautiful, which made it similar to other films about indigenous cultures I've seen. Sometimes it was just a little too beautiful for me,, and got a bit muddied. The funeral scene rang true and found a touching balance between documentary and fiction.
Ihjãc does not know what to do with his lingering grief & tells Kôtô, “Things have changed. I’m not the same any more. The mecarõ…, (animals, spirits, entities which only shamans can see) I can see them now. I know the soul of things. They talk to me. Now I’m like this. What can I do?” His dismay & his transition are complete. Respect, for the Krahô community. Loved this.
can't believe masterpieces like this are shunned by audiences who can put up with any kind of suffering but the real one as portrayed in this young man tale; dwelling between becoming a man and following the path that was carved for him and looking for something new into the unknown. rejection becomes the central them of this misfit that speaks about a broader phenomenon, mass migration, the search for better things.
There's an interesting insight here, but it didn't ever truly draw me in. This tale of a young man dealing with his journey to adulthood, how he goes along with tradition at times and then tries to escape at others, is shown through a unique lens, but just lacks the right atmosphere and tone to make it a better viewing experience, in my opinion.
A slow builder for sure this film takes a bit of patience and the curiosity to hear the day to day struggles from marginalised communities. Floating between being a work of fiction and documentary this is a type of film that I am always sad to see ignored by the main cinema-going audience.
L'approccio documentaristico mina il ritmo, che però felicemente si sposa con una percezione del tempo estremamente più dilatata e adatta ai luoghi indigeni. I canti tradizionali cullano così verso quel mondo dei sogni tanto caro a queste spesso dimenticate popolazioni.
Salaviza's portrayal of mourning is surprisingly unsentimentalised thanks mainly to the earnest performances of its central characters. The languid pace is intoxicating (you may fall into a trance yourself during numerous chanting sequences), the cinematography captivating. Whilst unburdened by ethnographical aims, little is offered about the Krahô people nor the film's central themes of grief for that matter.