TIFF Review: The Tale of Silyan is an Uplifting Narrative of Determination

      Described as a touching story about a farmer who rescues and befriends an injured white stork in North Macedonia, Tamara Kotevska's The Tale of Silyan is, in reality, a poignant and relevant narrative about survival amid growing wealth inequality. Nikola Conev doesn’t encounter Silyan until the film is already two-thirds complete; initially, we see Nikola and his wife Jana Coneva grappling with the loss of their bumper crop due to new government policies that allow buyers to undervalue their produce and devastate livelihoods.

      The harvest appears promising—potatoes, peppers, watermelons, and tobacco—giving the 60-year-old couple hope for a financial boost to support themselves, their daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter. Their trucks brim with harvest en route to the farmer’s market, where each plans to sell their crop upon arrival. However, they face not only haggling but also a stark lack of buyers. It soon becomes evident that the area has dwindled from 300 farms to just 50, leaving those that remain neglected.

      Protests arise as these families decide that destroying their crops in a display of defiance is preferable to allowing opportunists to take advantage of their hard work for mere pennies. Their daughter and son-in-law choose to relocate to Germany in search of steadier employment, revealing they are just the latest in a long line of departures, while abandoned properties scatter across the country, inhabited only by prideful men unwilling to relinquish their heritage.

      Kotevska weaves this narrative within a Macedonian folk tale about a son who transforms into a stork named Silyan. This serves as a powerful allegory for the plight of the nation’s farmers, as well as for Nikola's personal journey, having witnessed his son leave without a word for years. Discovering the stork in the landfill compels Nikola to persevere alone, placing him within the myth. Instead of reconnecting with his estranged son through the stork, he finds a renewed bond with nature and his heritage.

      The documentary chronicles the resilience of those who resist corruption and exploitation, choosing not to surrender, as at times the cost of giving up can outweigh that of fighting back. Although Nikola could sell his land for a meager profit barely enough to facilitate a move to Germany, he realizes it might be more beneficial to cultivate it for another season despite the challenging economic and physical realities. Why give in to those who seek to destroy him?

      Much like the director's earlier work, Honeyland, the cinematography is stunning. Jean Dakar, the cinematographer, captures expansive shots of storks soaring over the landscape and interacting with the people below. The close-ups of the birds’ eyes and their slow movements aim to imbue them with humanity as Silyan's story gradually unfolds through voiceover alongside Nikola’s struggles. The action shots smoothly transition into powerful imagery: tractors rolling over crushed produce and Nikola constructing a nest for Silyan.

      In addition to the allegorical significance of the stork's relationship with Nikola, the struggles of humanity also filter down to the birds. Once they thrived on the fertile land alongside humans (foraging in the soil turned by plows), they now scavenge for remnants amidst the devastation left behind. Nikola's work takes him to the landfill, where the storks arrive shortly after migration to seek food. Kotevska need not emphasize this reality beyond its visual representation. Humanity's greed poses a dire threat to all forms of life.

      The Tale of Silyan made its debut at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival.