"Kinra": a deep reflection on identity and loss in rural Peru.

"Kinra," the film directed by Marco Panatonic and presented at the Lima Festival, delves into the labyrinths of identity and loss, using the Peruvian rural landscape not only as a backdrop but as an additional character in this story of search and unease. Echoing the works of filmmakers like Béla Tarr and Aleksandr Sokurov, the film offers a contemplative experience that invites the viewer to reflect on the meaning of being and belonging. The film follows Atoqcha, a young man whose life revolves around planting and harvesting potatoes alongside his mother. In this austere environment, where dialogues are brief and sparse, the viewer feels immersed in the daily routine of the protagonists. The scenes of food, reminiscent of those in "The Turin Horse," provide a sense of almost ritualistic repetition. However, the subtle subtext of lurking death, symbolized by the howl of a dog, adds a layer of tension that transforms everyday life into a space of premonitions and farewells. What is admirable about "Kinra" is its ability to evade the preciosity that often accompanies representations of the Andean landscape. Instead of celebrating it as an idyll, the film raises questions about development and identity in a context where the countryside and the city are more than mere opposites. The transition between Chumbivilcas and Cusco becomes an exploration of the realities faced by those who inhabit these two often antagonistic worlds. As Atoqcha confronts the loss of his mother, Panatonic opts for a narrative approach that challenges the expectations of conventional drama. Death is not treated as a revelatory climax but as an event that shapes the protagonist's quest: the struggle to establish his own identity in a world that seems to have denied him such a right. In this search, he becomes a NN, a "nobody" yearning to be recognized. The director manages to immerse the viewer in Atoqcha's psyche, who finds himself trapped between the death of his mother and his own uncertain future. The camera follows him in his search for a birth certificate, a document that symbolizes his right to exist in society. This seemingly simple detail resonates deeply in a country where identities are often invisible and names are a luxury that not everyone can afford. The use of frames in which characters are shown from behind or out of focus creates a sense of detachment, reinforcing the theme of lost identity. Panatonic's aesthetic choices may be disconcerting, but they also serve as a powerful reminder of how often we overlook the stories of those around us. The absence of a complete representation of the characters leads the viewer to question not only what they see but also what they assume about the lives of others. As Atoqcha moves between rural life and the fringes of urbanity, Panatonic suggests that the city, with its own forms of precarity, is not so different from the countryside. This crossroads underscores the shared realities of the struggle for survival and recognition in a world that is often indifferent to the suffering of others. The film, while austere in form, is laden with meaning. Through its slow and contemplative narrative, "Kinra" invites the viewer to reflect on the nature of existence and the search for identity in a context where the subtle often gets lost in the noise of the modern world. The absence of dramatism in the treatment of grief becomes a powerful statement about life itself: sometimes, the true weight of loss lies in the solitude it leaves behind. In conclusion, "Kinra" is more than just a simple story about a young man's life in the Peruvian countryside. It is a meditation on identity, memory, and the fragility of existence. Marco Panatonic has created a work that, while silent in its form, resonates deeply within the human experience, reminding us that often it is the untold stories that carry the greatest weight.