In storytelling, the most obvious thing is that the narrative is based on perception, but it’s also the thing that we most take for granted as an audience. We presume that what we see, what we hear, is what happens; unless, of course, the narrator is untrustworthy either because of a condition (Memento) or because they represent the worst of humanity (The Usual Suspects). Then there are stories that are designed specifically to play with perspective, to tell us upfront that we cannot trust what we see and hear, weaving together the same story in different ways in order to produce a reaction. These are stories like filmmaker Akira Kurosawa’s Rashōmon (1950), based on the 1915 Ryūnosuke Akutagawa short, which spins a yarn exploring the goodness of humanity wherein the storyteller shapes the story being told. Having its North American premiere in the Selection 2025 section of Fantasia International Film Festival 2025 is filmmaker Radik Eshimov’s Burning (Ot), a horror thriller that uses the multi-perspective framework to investigate cultural norms and social mores, questioning whether or not our responsibility to each other is more important than self-preservation, even in times of grief.
Omurbek Israilov as Marat in BURNING. Photo courtesy of Fantasia International Film Festival.
Roughly a year since the death of their son, tragedy strikes again as a fire breaks out and threatens to burn down a couple’s home. Gathering together to get out of the rain and away from the activity as the firefighters work to put down the blaze, three neighbors put forward their theories about the cause. Across each of their testimonies, one thing is agreed — there is a curse upon that house.
Center: Aysanat Edigeeva as Asel in BURNING. Photo courtesy of Fantasia International Film Festival.
Co-writers Aizada Bekbalaeva and Dastan Madaldiev don’t seek to remake Rashōmon via Burning, but its use of narrative framing is going to draw comparisons. Its use of multiple viewpoints, the revealing of personal perspectives via said viewpoints, and even the hunkering down in a space to avoid rain all point to Kurosawa, if not the original work. What helps separate it is that at no point is it ever made clear who is 100% correct — at least not enough to satisfy all the questions raised. What Bekbalaeva and Madaldiev successfully do, however, is demonstrate how personal POV blinds one to the actions of others, creating a “truth” whose foundation is filtered rather than authentic. This is a long-winded way to say that we don’t actually know what’s happening in someone else’s home; we can only create a story for ourselves that mixes what we observe through what we tell ourselves about ourselves. The only thing we know for certain is that a fire broke out and the couple living in the home lost their child to tragedy. Through the diverse perspectives, Eshimov (Koshunalar kinodo) enables the audience to collect what is similar and discard what’s different, empowering the audience to develop their own conclusion despite never quite making a declaration of its own.
On the one hand, this may frustrate some viewers looking for a declarative statement regarding the events as they transpire, seeking confirmation as to whether the home is cursed or merely sinister in a secular sense. On the other, Eshimov is able to produce three acts that tell the story of couple Asel (Aysanat Edigeeva) and Marat (Omurbek Israilov) and Marta’s visiting mother, Farida (Kalicha Seydalieva), in such a way that Eshimov calls out the culture itself by using each storyteller as representative of different aspects of the society. For instance, the first act is presented by neighbor Jyrgal (Ruslan Orozakunov) who places all the blame of the fire on the mother-in-law which Eshimov brings to life via specific camera work, costuming, makeup, and direction that leans heavily on Farida as a traditional, custom-heavy small-village woman. Without getting into spoilers, this sequence not only plays into what the audience expects from a horror thriller, it is completely colored by Jyrgal’s POV — reasons for which are provided within the narrative. Each sequence does require all three central actors to bring something new with Edigeeva, in particular, bringing out something new in each version demonstrative of a talent well beyond her listed credits (A Father’s Will being her only other IMDB credit). What impresses here is how the absence of things is as important as what’s included in each story, where people are friendly vs. distant, where characters communicate vs. avoid, and where characters engage and how, to name a few. Each one possesses the subtext of social convention and what’s expected (either their own perception of what they are owed or what they believe others are owed). A neighbor will always have expectations of their neighbors, a friend of their friends, and a wife of other wives — for good or for ill.
Aysanat Edigeeva as Asel in BURNING. Photo courtesy of Fantasia International Film Festival.
Where the film struggles, however, is two-fold and relates heavily to its use of framing. The first is how each segment makes a point to show how each storyteller is able to view the goings-on of the household, but there are specific things it would be impossible for them to know. These sections can be explained as portions that demonstrate the unreliability/bias of the narrator, but that only goes so far in maintaining the illusion of the framework. The second relates to the ways in which the potential truth is revealed through the overlapping versions. If you’re engaged with the film, truly sucked in, then one can predict the third act before it begins thereby removing all tension as we wait for confirmation. The direction, cinematography, and performances remain as concrete as ever, but they lack the tensile strength they held in the first two acts. At the very least, the final moments of the film, much like Kurosawa’s adaptation, stick the landing, delivering an affirmation upon the narrative’s intent that makes the journey feel worthwhile.
BURNING director Radik Eshimov. Photo courtesy of Fantasia International Film Festival.
Just because one knows the path doesn’t mean it can’t pack a wallop all the same. Is the house cursed? Did they upset the old gods, invite a trickster, or something else? These are important questions that are derived from social convention and personal perspective, especially in modern society. The ways in which these characters and, by extension, the audience, justify their perspectives and rationalize their versions of events are each striking in different ways. Even as we may be able to deduce where the story is headed by the end of Act 2, we’ll still find ourselves a little broken and a little hopeful by the end. Eshimov clearly has something to say about what we owe each other and it would behoove us all to listen.
Screened during Fantasia International Film Festival 2025.
For more information, head to the official Fantasia International Film Festival Burning webpage.
Final Score: 3.5 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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