*Joqtau is a funeral song in Kazakh culture. It is the oldest genre of poetry of nomadic tribes that is meant to express grief for the deceased and recall their good deeds. The performance of the song lasts for three days.
The rising sun over the boundless steppe; the touch of wind on your face; the gentle colours of the rustling grass; the wailing of women who see off the deceased on the last journey… The young Darkhan returns home after a seven-year absence, accompanied by his girlfriend Elena. The steppe cannot be described as “beautiful”, says the girl, who visits these parts for the first time; it feels as if it goes right through you.
Unless you had looked at the catalogue beforehand, you’d stay intrigued throughout the screening: is it a documentary? A fiction film? An experimental mixture of both? In his debut work, director Aruan Anartay explores the evolution of his personal feelings towards grief and a sense of shifted identity while following the practical steps of his grandfather’s burial together with his Kazakh family.
Joqtau is a kind of film where spoilers are not possible, since we are dealing not only with narrative but with the intricate complexity of cinematic means. In the full right of its visual beauty, this movie unfolds slowly in space and time, offering an intimate and immersive experience that subtly revolves around the existential topics of life and death.
Transforming the real-life experience into a fictional story, Anartay deliberately resorts to documentary stylistics, incorporating a variety of thought-through details that reflect an authentic mixture of Muslim and Kazakh traditions. This already bizarre enough and at times contradictory combination goes hand in hand with the post-Soviet flavour that left its distinctive mark on the Kazakh way of living. The different points of view within family generations, however, do not lead to heated clashes but rather to a melancholic rumination about roots and their deeper meaning for the individual in the modern world. Through his character Darkhan, the director calmly observes reality as it is, trying to figure out his attitude towards this painful and transformative experience.
With a maturity admirable for a debut director, Anartay carefully yet persistently leads us through the loop of time, crossing back and forth the river that divides the worlds of the living and the dead. In the background, we get a chance to reflect on the matters of politics, religion, language, gender stereotypes, and other social issues that are presented in a way as not to distract us from the dominant perspective: the unforgiving flow of time that every human being has to put up with.
To those appreciating masterful camera work, Joqtau offers a fascinating journey that gradually envelops the viewer in sensations of the authentic spacetime of Kazakhstan. It seems that one can feel the touch of the wind, the fragrance of the grass, the longing vastness of the steppe, and perceive its mild colours. With its delicate pace, this movie leaves enough space for self-reflection and for sheer aesthetic admiration of the details that constitute this part of the world. This approach seems especially refreshing compared to the overwhelming bombardment by information, colours and sounds that we undergo routinely in everyday life; yet the director doesn’t go too far into a realm of meaningless veneration of visual aesthetics, but maintains a fine balance between meditation and action, especially when it comes to the recreation of ethnographic scenes.
In modern times, when the questions of identity become more and more complicated, Aruan Anartay managed to reflect on this complex topic without radicalization and with an ever-present, precious human touch.
At the 3rd Bishkek International Film Festival, Anartay was distinguished by the Central Asian competition jury as Best Director.
Elena Rubashevska
Edited by Birgit Beumers
©FIPRESCI 2025