Set in a small Nepalese village of the Kinnar community – the third gender recognized in the country – Elephants in the Fog is a striking and heartbreaking portrait of a matriarch searching for one of her adopted daughters, who has gone missing after a vicious fight between them. The matriarch is Pirati (Pushpa Thing Lama), a stern, but not unkind, mother in a community that lives by ancient pacts and a constant sense of otherness, despite their seeming acceptance into the community.
Yet Pirati has fallen in love, and she wants to leave her life in the village behind. But her daughters, including the former sex worker Apsara (Ali Ghimire), depend upon her almost too much. Before the central mystery ever unfolds, Elephants in the Fog presents us with a compelling and deeply affecting portrait of found families and responsibility.
Pirati is not without compassion, but she wants to see what else life can offer her. The vows of abstinence are too much, especially for matters of the heart, and there's a promise of a new beginning in Delhi, where she and her lover can move. But when Apsara disappears one night, during her shift to ward off the wandering elephants that might threaten the village, Pirati sets her mind on nothing else but finding her daughter first.
It is here that Elephants in the Fog turns to something both grander and surprisingly familiar all at once. At first, we hunt down clues of Apsara's past, including the life she tried to pursue. Then, slowly but surely, writer/director Abinash Bikram Shah envelops the neighboring communities and unspoken hostilities that linger in the air. Even if the Kinnar are legally accepted, their place in society is another matter entirely. As Pirati doggedly seeks answers, watch how the responses go from dismissive to hostile as she refuses to accept what is given.
The mystery itself plays out through familiar beats, yet it is the perspective and the courageous performances that make Elephants in the Fog unique. Lama is stunning as Pirati, especially as this is her first acting performance. There is so much that she can communicate with minor expressions alone, and director Shah captures the nuances even amidst the most tumultuous sequences, where it feels like the entire world is nothing but cacophonous noise.
Ghimire, as Apsara, gives an agonizing and haunting performance as someone hurt far too much at such a young age, but who still believes they can achieve their dreams, no matter how distant they are. Shah brings her and her sisters' daily routines to life with crackling intensity, and their often brutal bickering hides genuine care and love for one another. When Apsara vanishes, there is a hole in the universe that is her exact shape and size. Every minute afterwards screams to find her.
There are occasional issues with pacing, and the momentum takes a while to get going. Yet for a debut feature, it is shocking how assured and certain of vision Elephants in the Fog is. Shah utilizes incredible focus in Pirati's quest, and he understands how things left unsaid can hurt or reveal much more than direct statements. As the story builds towards its climax, there's a natural sense of foreboding that feels almost suffocating, and, for a brief moment, we can understand an inkling of what this kind of life must feel like.
It is a tremendous debut and a glimpse into a part of this world that most have never seen. It makes a case for the importance of cinema as an empathy machine. Elephants in the Fog is haunting and poignant, and it will break your heart. But it might also build it back up again.
