Aki
(Canada, 83 min.)
Dir. Darlene Naponse
Programme: TIFF Docs (World Premiere)
Set in Northern Ontario, Aki observes life in Atikameksheng Anishnawbek territory. Taking us inside the land and its people, Darlene Naponse creates a soundscape and visual essay that captures the past and future without any spoken dialogue. Naponse’s ability to build such tangible intimacy makes Aki a film to behold, feel, and hear — the latter largely due to Juno Award–nominated cellist Cris Derkson’s tremendous score.
Transitioning through the Anishinaabe seasons — Biboon (winter), Mnookmi (spring), Niibin (summer), and Dgwaagi (autumn) — Naponse flips between aerial and ground-level shots of the varying landscapes, as well as opting for the occasional split screen wherein one half zooms into a singular element of the opposing frame. Trading off between these perspectives develops an understanding of the terrain. It also instills a sense of time.
At times, the camera positions us well beneath the tree line, leaving us to observe the gentle movements of the mighty branches swaying with the wind. At other times, Naponse brings us high above the greenery, making them appear smaller yet plentiful. When Niibin hits, a macro lens shows off the glorious detail within the forests, from the blossoming of flowers to the drops left on long blades of grass after a rainfall.
Taking these scenes together, Aki emphasizes nature’s expansiveness: many of the trees, lakes, and fields existed well before our lifetime and will continue to exist when we’ve long gone. No matter how imposing our existence and actions are to the land, we merely exist as its caretakers. But as caretakers, we have been given the gift of life, family, joy, and community — the other side of Naponse’s film.
Aki invites us into the lives of the people of Atikameksheng. From inside a cozy kitchen where 1950s-era Elvis Presley magnets adorn the fridge and rabbit stew bubbles away on the stove to hands harvesting birch sap on crisp snowy days, Naponse brings to her audience the vibrancy of her community. A beautiful powwow caps off Niibin, and Naponse once again utilizes the multi-angle approach allowing us to revel in the connection and beauty of tradition.
Towards the end of the film, Naponse entitles a chapter “Azhigwa (at this time),” and in stark contrast to the ceremony in praise of land and culture, Aki takes us overhead the swathes of land being manipulated for its resources, showing giant factories, imposing machines, areas stripped bare, waters discoloured and frothing at the surface. Just as quickly, the sound of children’s laughter and scenes of a local baseball game take over the screen.
Taking these two sequences in turn, Naponse firmly focuses the tone of her film on optimism, while acknowledging the fight against the destruction of land in the name of commercial prosperity. As the colours of Dgwaagi signal the coming of Biboon and Derkson’s final flourish swells on the soundtrack, Aki almost feels like a declaration from Naponse: Mother Nature will prevail, regardless of how hard we try to take her for all she’s got.
