Cannes Review: Imago Discovers a Filmmaker of Chechen Origin in Pursuit of a Sense of Belonging

      Midway through *Imago*, a captivating documentary by Déni Oumar Pitsaev, the director has a conversation with his mother about the land she purchased for him in Pankisi, a valley in Georgia near the Chechen border. When he inquires about her reason for the purchase, she replies: “…so you don’t get lost, having no homeland… everyone needs a homeland.” This notion of “home” permeates every scene of the film.

      In 1996, during the turmoil of the First Chechen War, young Déni fled with his mother to Russia. To this day, they are unable to return to Chechnya, which falls under the Russian Federation. *Imago* chronicles Pitsaev's journey in Pankisi: reuniting with his family, examining his property, and pondering the construction of a house there. The film presents moments of laughter, insights, and the persistent teasing from family regarding when Pitsaev will settle down with a wife and children. His cousin Daoud Margoshvili––a former Olympian, small-business owner, and devoted family man––contrasts sharply with Pitsaev. According to the locals in the valley, Daoud embodies the ideal image of a Chechen man. He is undeniably charming.

      The visual style of *Imago* often conveys a narrative feature, with its staging and lighting suggesting a more deliberate approach than mere candid shots. Sylvain Verdet and Joachim Philippe are credited as Directors of Photography, and their soft touch gives the images a quality that nearly obscures their authenticity. It’s an unusual critique to say a film appears too polished, yet fortunately, the interactions throughout dispel any air of pretentiousness. One touching scene features Pitsaev’s mother gently stroking his hair while expressing what name she would have preferred for him. It was not her decision; she was not even consulted. Despite the gentle nagging regarding family matters, they share a deep connection. She has been a single mother for many years, having separated from his father long ago and endured the war alone.

      When Pitsaev’s father appears in the latter part of *Imago* to discuss the potential house and reconnect, the atmosphere becomes somewhat charged. “My heart doesn’t allow me to feel close to you,” the director admits at one moment. A standout moment in the film occurs when the cinematographers capture a stunning, verdant forest backdrop during a particularly emotional segment of the climactic conversation between father and son. Several insightful observations arise throughout the film. In tense moments, certain individuals engage in trivial activities, as if fiddling with a tree branch can distract them from their harsh reality. It’s a childlike but deeply authentic response.

      The concept of home in *Imago* is both distinctly personal and remarkably universal. Many can identify with that experience of home—how it evolves over time yet retains core essence. It encompasses where you were raised, where your family resides, including parents and relatives. Additionally, it can represent where you choose to build a family (with a partner, children, or however you define it). Each location and each group of people carries a mix of cherished and painful memories. For Déni Oumar Pitsaev, returning to that place is not an option. However, the people remain, as do the memories. What do we owe those who came before us? *Imago* serves as a compelling exploration of a lost boy grappling with his desire to be understood and recognized.

      *Imago* had its premiere at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival.