Cold November

Cold November is a compelling and emotive film introduced in 2017 that skillfully intertwines narrative and cinematic aesthetics to shed light on family, tradition, hunting, and rites of passage in a Midwestern community. The film stars groundbreaking performances from Bijou Abas, Karl Jacob, and Anna Klemp.

The film primarily unfolds in a small town amid the bone-chilling cold of November in Minnesota. At the centre of this narrative is the transformational journey of a 12-year-old girl named Florence, impressively portrayed by Bijou Abas. Florence, coping with the recent loss of her mother, is absorbed in her family's multigenerational hunting tradition, learning to kill her first deer as a rite of passage. Her mother's absence imbues the narrative with an undercurrent of mourning and the aspiration to keep her presence alive through this familial ritual.

Yet, this is not just a tale of a girl on the precipice of adolescence. Through Florence's experiences and her candid portrayal, the film crafts a narrative mosaic of family dynamics, women's empowerment, the ever-present specter of death, and the human connection with nature and its creatures.

The subsequent narrative is an intimate immersion into the ethos of a family anchored by women and guided by the valuable life lessons taught by hunting. Karl Jacob, who doubles as director and actor in the film, convincingly plays the role of her doting yet grief-stricken uncle, Craig. Anna Klemp's role as her aunt furthers the portrayal of women's resilience and vital roles within the family structure.

Jacob's direction leans heavily into stylized realism, evoking a sense of chilled melancholy reflective of the physical and emotional landscape. Rather than only focusing upon the act of hunting, the film delves soulfully into what it means to kill for survival, relevance, and adherence to tradition. Cold November meticulously mirrors the raw beauty, brutal realities, and transcendent peace found within the interaction between humans and the wilderness.

In her journey toward maturation and acquiring her deceased mother's hunting legacy, Florence confronts not only her familial expectations but stipulations from society as a whole. Beautifully delivered dialogue combined with poignant silences translates a tangible exploration of age, gender, and tradition, pushing against the normative delimitation. It compels its viewers to question the narrative around hunting, beseeching them to consider it as less of a violent act, but one that values respect for the animal and the environment in which it thrives.

Utilizing the fatherless, motherless Florence as a lens, the film outlines the dichotomous relationship between life and death. Florence's anticipation and nervousness for taking a life inevitably turn into a profound respect for the cycle of life, inherited sustenance practices, and more so, about confronting the inevitability of her mortality.

The film's cinematography further enhances these thematic elements, with an icy palette reflecting both the literal cold of November and the metaphorical chill of Florence's loss. A similarly understated but impactful soundtrack heightens the raw emotion and seamlessly segues into the sounds of the serene yet hard-edge wilderness.

Shadowed by the death of her mother, her first hunting experience becomes a metaphor for the impactful passage from childish innocence to adult understanding. This transition is imbued with strength, determination, and the fortitude to confront reality, all while learning to navigate through the labyrinth of her grief.

Cold November is, therefore, a sincerely personal, empathetic, and thought-provoking film. It does not resort to a sensational dramatization of hunting as violence but instead portrays it as a communion with nature suffused with respect, reflection, and understanding. At its core, it is a tale that bravely examines the spectrum of human emotions, the imperatives of tradition, and the profound resonance of familial ties. These elements harmoniously interweave to make Cold November a narrative portrayal that is heart-rending, profoundly contemplative, and sublimely beautiful. It is indeed a film that touches not just the eyes, but also the heart and soul of its audience.