Mark Reviews Movies: ÁGA

Become a fan on Facebook Follow on Twitter

Review by Mark Dujsik | September 3, 2019

There isn't much to the lives of Nanook (Mikhail Aprosimov) and Sedna (Feodosia Ivanova), a married couple who live in the frozen wilderness of Yakutia. Most of their living consists of matters of survival: fishing, hunting, making warm clothing, and ensuring that their yurt doesn't collapse in a storm. Ága is about these routines, yes, and a creeping threat to this way of life, but co-writer/director Milko Lazarov also depicts the deep, almost unspoken bond between this couple with tender and acute perception.

Most of the story follows Nanook, as he goes off into the wild with his trusty Siberian Husky to check on snares and dig holes in the ice for fishing, while Sedna remains at home to make clothes and prepare an ointment for her husband's aching legs. Both are aged, and with time, the challenges of seniority have come: pain, memory troubles, slowing down, and the like.

None of this seems to matter too much to the couple. They have to keep working or risk death, and the way Sedna teases her husband about his dwindling capacity to remember things keeps Nanook in good spirits.

At night, they eat—although the food is growing sparser as the climate is changing—and lie in bed together. In these scenes, natural and relaxed, we come to comprehend just how deep this relationship is. They talk—about what has happened that day, the plans for the next day, fantastical stories that Nanook would tell their two children, those now-adult children.

Only Chena (Sergei Egorov), who now lives in the city, still visits them every so often. The daughter of the film's title doesn't, although the son notes that he saw her working at a diamond mine. Something happened. Sedna wants to travel to find her daughter. Nanook is still a bit hesitant but has grown to regret the separation.

Lazarov and co-writer Simeon Ventsislavov aren't concerned about plot (There's a kind of death getting closer to the couple's home, and the third act is a long trek). They primarily observe these characters as they survive, enjoy each other's company, and communicate regret and hope (Sedna relates a dream about change that's either allegorical or a premonition—or, for that matter, both). The story of Ága may be oh-so simple, but the film's details, characters, and ultimate meaning are all the richer for it.

Back to Home

Buy Related Products