Tautuktavuk

Through the small town, through the heavy snow, a girl runs. We’re not privy to what she’s running from and it does not seem that she has anywhere to go. Despite the Arctic chill she is barefoot, clad in only a t-shirt and shorts. As she runs, the throat singing on the film’s score captures her breathlessness and a weight of emotion, conveying something about her plight even in the absence of translation.

It’s a visceral opening to a film which, thereafter, mostly takes place indoors or even online, as its characters are pinned down by Covid isolation protocols. There is attendant resentment: this disease has come up from the south, where people are judged to be less responsible, and so some people in the community don’t see why they should take responsibility for following the southerners’ rules. They meet, in defiance of quarantine orders, to perform traditional drum dances, trusting to their shamanic traditions to keep the sickness at bay. Drum dancing and ajaajaa songs were banned by the Church in the recent past. “If we don’t practice our own traditions we are dead,” says one participant, highlighting the epidemic of youth suicides in the region.

The bulk of the film focuses on two sisters, Uyarak (Lucy Tulugarjuk) and the older Saqpinak (Carol Kunnuk). As Uyarak lives in Montreal, they are forced to quarantine separately during the early months of the pandemic, whilst their experiences of isolation affect them in unexpected ways. For Uyarak, all that time to think allows memories of childhood sexual abuse to bubble to the surface, resulting in distressing flashbacks. Saqpinak, meanwhile, has present day violence to contend with, initially concealed behind her mask. As the two meet online to talk, their relationship takes on a new form, their connection with one another shifting as each woman re-evaluates her own identity.

The film is given additional weight by the fact that each woman’s story is based upon the stories of the actors/filmmakers themselves. As such, it provides a platform for taking on issues which have long been treated as shameful, forbidden subjects for discussion. The existence of abusers within the Church was long kept secret, as was the case elsewhere, and women’s voices generally have not received the attention they deserve. In light of this, Tautuktavuk is ruffling a lot of feathers, but it has the potential to make a very real difference to vulnerable people, helping them to speak out.

Alongside all this, details of the Inuit experience of Covid play out. There are worries about unemployment which people all over the world will relate to. A cash draw is introduced in an effort to encourage vaccine uptake. A hunter is commissioned to find food for the community, which is suffering more than most because the numerous transport links involved in bringing in groceries meant that failures quickly developed. The vulnerability of the community, and the ways in which its needs have been neglected, parallels the women’s journeys.

Tautuktavuk stands out from other films addressing abuse because of the very proactive approach to healing which Uyarak takes. Whilst she condemns the belief that abuse survivors should live in shame, she nevertheless chooses to take responsibility for her feelings and for the way her resultant behaviour is affecting those close to her, even though this will utltmately mean that she cannot settle in Igloolik with Saqpinak because therapy, too, is unavailable there. Though she cannot change what has happened to her in the past any more than the Inuit people can, she can engage in the radical act of determining her own future.

Tautuktavuk screened as part of the Toronto International Film Festival.