“Laguna is a powerful and essential work.”

Grief takes on many forms, and there isn’t any definitive guide on how to mourn a loss. All that can be considered universal is that, at some point, we are all going to experience what it means to lose someone we love. Whether it’s seeing our parents off at the end of what we hope is a long, fruitful life, or experiencing something much more sudden with someone we didn’t expect to pass on so soon, it is inevitable that grief will find us eventually. However, it can be said that some losses are bigger than others, a concept that can be difficult to understand until it is experienced firsthand. It has been observed that there are words in most languages for someone who loses a spouse, as well as a child who has lost their parents. Yet, there are very rarely words for situations in which a parent loses their child, and which is often considered one of the most painful, heartbreaking experiences anyone could have to endure. Someone who unfortunately knows what it feels like to go through such an unconscionable process is Sharunas Bartas, who lost his daughter Ina in 2021 under unexpected circumstances. His return to the medium takes the form of Laguna, a non-fiction work in which Bartas directly addresses the aftermath of his daughter’s demise, attempting to find a path forward while never allowing himself to let go of the past. A poignant, haunting documentary that touches on emotions that many of us wish never to experience, Laguna is a powerful and essential work.
It may seem inexplicable that someone would choose to return to directing after several years by making a film based entirely around the death of a loved one, especially when the wounds are still fresh (and may never entirely heal), and there are no words that can describe the harrowing experience of having someone taken long before their time. Yet, as we have seen in many other instances, filmmaking can be a powerful tool through which certain emotions and experiences can be filtered. In the case of Laguna, we find Bartas wholeheartedly subscribing to the belief that art can be cathartic, and that there is emotional and psychological salvation in not only speaking about such experiences, but also finding a way to make such a deeply personal experience almost seem universal. The film focuses on both Bartas and his youngest daughter, and we see the majority of the film following them as they reflect on the loss of their daughter and sister, a death that has affected them in very different ways. They find a reliable source of comfort in each other, helping each other through a seemingly interminable state of mourning. It can often seem quite harsh in how it addresses the death of Ina, since the director is not interested in circling around the subject in terms of implication or inference – it is absolutely devastating right from the start, and remains consistently heartbreaking throughout, showing these two wayward souls attempting to process a pain that they know can never truly be healed, regardless of how much they attempt to handle the trauma and the associated emotions.
There is comfort in familiarity, but there is also pain – losing someone can be made infinitely harder when you are surrounded by memories of them. This often leads people to seek refuge elsewhere, whether temporarily or for longer stretches of time. There is a moment where Bartas’ young daughter asks him how long they will be staying in the small dwelling that they have been calling their home for a while. His response is just as unsure, but it is clear that they both see it as a sanctuary. The entire film was shot while the director and his youngest daughter were on a trip through Mexico, retracing the steps he had taken with Ina years before in the hopes of being close to his memories, as well as to escape the daunting experience of being in more familiar domestic territory. Bartas makes several fascinating observations on nature, particularly as a source of relief. He observes plants and animals that manage to heal themselves – the natural world is astonishing in how it can endure enormous trauma, and not only repair itself but also come back stronger and more resilient than ever. The director and his daughter surround themselves with nature, receding into their most primal form as they escape their usual lives. In the process they are given the chance to reflect without any distraction or painful reminders that they would have otherwise had to deal with at home. The film offers astute, compelling reflections on the reality of life and death, with nature itself becoming an effective motif that represents both their grief and the desire to use their love for Ina as a means to become stronger, even if the prospect of ever returning to how their lives were before the accident that took her life seems impossible.
The bravery it must have taken to not only return to work, but to make a film that pays tribute to a lost child, is truly astonishing and is the primary reason why Laguna stands as one of the year’s most affecting, daring and beautifully poetic works. It is a film that examines grief and the experience of navigating those endless days in which there is nothing to be done other than reflect and hope that there will be some reprieve from suffering in the future. Part cultural document, with Bartas beautifully capturing not only the stunning landscape of this area of Mexico, but also spending some time exploring the locals and their traditions, making the film as much a tribute to these indigenous communities as it is about his own voyage of healing; part character study in which the director and his youngest daughter seek refuge far from home, finding comfort in the most unexpected of places by allowing themselves to become engrossed in their surroundings. Bartas bares his soul throughout Laguna, a profoundly personal, intimate work in which he attempts to capture even the slightest fraction of the pain and hopelessness he has felt since the tragedy occurred. He shows that there is always a path forward, one filled with insurmountable obstacles and several unpredictable turns, but where the opportunity to at least partially heal helps motivate him to move towards the future. A beautiful portrait of the strength and resilience of two people who have experienced an unspeakable tragedy, the film is astounding in depth, and truly unforgettable.