Wrong Husband (Canada, 2025)
Original title: Uiksaringitara
Director: Zacharias Kunuk
Screenplay: Zacharias Kunuk and Samuel Cohn-Cousineau
Main cast: Theresia Kappianaq, Haiden Angutimarik, Leah Panimera, Mark Taqqaugaq, and Emma Quassa
Running time: 100 minutes
There’s an inevitable moment in every film buff’s life: wondering about the origins of documentary filmmaking and eventually discovering Nanook of the North (1922), a landmark of the genre, considered the first feature-length documentary. Then, if this student has a restless mind, they’ll research the conditions under which the film was shot and realize a very important issue when it comes to the portrayal of a people by outsiders: it’s very difficult for someone who wants to create a portrait to create a non-stereotypical vision based on their own prejudices about these people, and here, prejudices aren’t just expressed as negative views, but as any preconceived ideas.
Watching a film like Uiksaringitara more than 100 years after the release of Nanook of the North is a reminder that art is embedded in a society that moves, and that it will move too. It’s true that comparing an old documentary with a current fiction film is like comparing papayas and lemons by saying they’re both fruits, but realizing that society has changed enough that Indigenous peoples, who previously received external representation, now have the access and knowledge to produce productions that best represent them is a milestone that should always be celebrated. And if I’m using the Inuit as an example here, the same could easily apply to Indigenous Brazilians.
After all this preamble, the film presented is a fairly classic romance, about a couple who believed their whole lives they would be together and who, due to a specific situation, end up separating. It’s the kind of universality of the theme that allows anyone to relate to the film, even if they’re unfamiliar with the details of the culture presented. It’s inevitable that some cultural clashes will occur when considering issues related to both survival in an inhospitable environment due to the cold, and the social organization that seems more stratified than those accustomed to in large cities. But the director is quite aware of this and presents these details quite naturally, creating the right atmosphere for anyone to understand the work — though perhaps someone with more knowledge of Inuit culture will perceive greater nuances than a layperson like me.
The narrative is well-constructed and features graphic and audio elements that greatly contribute to the supernatural atmosphere that permeates the entire film. In addition to special effects that clearly demonstrate what’s happening in the scene, the troll’s creature design makes him an unforgettable nightmare. This is further enhanced by an extremely ethereal soundtrack, which conveys both a spirituality and a sense that this is a special tale being shared with its viewers.
The film is an excellent example of what happens when filmmakers come from diverse backgrounds, demonstrating that the ability to tell a good story doesn’t depend on understanding every detail. Both in his portrayal of love and the notion of family, the director introduces us to his culture and reminds us that some issues are inherent to humanity.
