EMBRACE OF THE SERPENT (2015)
The story of the relationship between an Amazonian shaman and last survivor of his people, and two scientists who work together over the course of 40 years to search the Amazon for a sacred healing plant.

The story of the relationship between an Amazonian shaman and last survivor of his people, and two scientists who work together over the course of 40 years to search the Amazon for a sacred healing plant.
Almost all signs of colour have been drained from the vibrant Amazon jungle in Ciro Guerra’s Embrace of the Serpent, dimming this lush world and its dual timelines into a story of narrow focus. Following the exploits of two Westerners set over 30 years apart as they encounter Karamakate (Nilbio Torres as the younger version, Antonio Bolívar as the elder), a shaman and the last living member of his tribe, both men’s mindsets and quests feel like two halves of one bigger picture. The black-and-white colour scheme highlights these similarities, with the distrustful Karamakate being forced to contend with two men who he’s certain are representative of the ills of his society, laying waste to the world he once knew. In this sense, it’s no wonder that bright colours are not a part of this isolated character’s world.
Embrace of the Serpent‘s colour scheme has one other useful effect, transforming this natural environment before our eyes into an entrancing work of art. These characters are melded seamlessly with the trees and wildlife that encircle them, or the endless bodies of water that they must traverse on their journeys. But really it’s all just one body of water, if one is willing to take a wider perspective, which this film continually invites through its visuals. The beauty of the Amazon jungle is still on display, just with its intoxicating qualities amplified tenfold, as well as a greater sense of danger with its vibrant colour scheme having been drained of life, where predators can slip by unannounced. One anticipates doom and gloom, which Embrace of the Serpent supplies without losing its identity in dour storytelling. No matter how alone Karamakate might be, he will always retain a connection to the natural world and its mystical essence, qualities that these Western travellers are all too eager to understand.
These two travellers are German ethnographer Theo von Martius (Jan Bijvoet) and American botanist Evan (Brionne Davis), each of whom are interested in the cultivation of the yakruna, a rare and sacred plant that acts as a hallucinogen. It appears to take an age for these characters to ever reach the source of this plant, but that is by no means a bad thing. The more time spent with these characters, the greater the opportunity to sink into this world. The ambient sounds of the jungle are a treat, while the interactions between these characters underscore how this world and our human interpretations of it can never hope to be as divine as this aural backdrop. Karamakate is bitter and despondent, yet never gives in to despair or the negative feelings he holds towards Theo for long. It’s 1909 when he agrees to help the German scientist track down the yakruna, and 1940 when Evan approaches him on a canoe, looking for the rare plant that Theo, who died during this journey, had searched for in vain.
The discrepancy between the younger and elder Karamakate could not be more stark. The younger version is forthright at every turn, whereas his older self shakes and mutters in his sleep, mournful over who he has become, having forgotten the ways of his people after years of isolation. Decades before this he makes fun of Theo’s tortured letters to his wife back home in Germany, and holds little respect for the reams of paper that the German scientist insists they travel with, but he no doubt regrets that he never adopted such customs. Sharing knowledge between distinct groups must have seemed like a terrifying concept to a man who watched his tribe and others fall at the hands of Western expansion, where new ideas—and new peoples—infiltrating his native territory led to death, torture, and suppression.
But it’s not so easy to maintain a consistent viewpoint on the idea of sharing and togetherness, with Karamakate brushing up against this very issue during a thorny interaction between Theo and a group of natives after they hold on to his compass. What had been a fun night shared between them soon turns bitter once the natives refuse to yield and hand back this possession, with Theo later explaining that to allow them to keep the compass would have suppressed their way of living. Karamakate seems to argue with him simply for the sake of it, unwilling to ever take the side of a white man. He’s intelligent, but not yet wise. It’s the wisdom that comes with the intervening decades between this film’s two storylines which allows this protagonist to recognise the value in sharing unique perspectives and attempting to grow from them.
Years in isolation have ensured that the ways of his people are lost to him, but time spent with Evan slowly brings back these memories. Wading through them appears no less difficult than the characters’ efforts to wade through the jungle. In both cases, they stop off at a Spanish Catholic Mission, where the horrors of colonialism and the suppression of native customs reach a sickening high point. But while there are explicitly evil characters in this ensemble, it’s in the grey areas that Embrace of the Serpent most firmly establishes its footing (and I’m not just referring to the colour scheme, though the parallel is clearly intended on Guerra’s part).
Manduca, a westernised local who helps Theo after having his freedom bought by the ethnobiologist, is demeaned regularly by Karamakate for adopting the ways of the whites, but this is an easy out for a character who can’t help but associate anything western with negative connotations. Guerra never hides from the ills of colonialism in promoting a message of togetherness; instead, he explores the ways in which we can all become complicit in this vicious system, and how complex it is to unpack what it means to do the right thing in this world. Manduca is viewed as a willing slave by Karamakate, whereas from this loyal servant’s perspective, he’s simply helping a trusted friend whose health is fading, and who just might perish if he does not gain access to the yakruna.
Years later, Karamakate will look to Evan to bring him closer to his people. He’s straining to save a man who doesn’t necessarily want to be saved, completing the tragic circle of pain, longing, and regret that is this plot, with an ending so bold yet assured that it stops you in your tracks. A recent viewing has confirmed this denouement isn’t as breath-taking the second time around, but it’s certainly beautiful, complimenting the film’s slow pacing just as handsomely as its visuals do throughout the rest of this quietly gripping story.
COLOMBIA • MEXICO • VENEZUELA • ARGENTINA • SPAIN • NETHERLANDS | 2015 | 125 MINUTES | 2.35:1 | BLACK & WHITE | SPANISH • PORTUGUESE • ABORIGINAL • GERMAN • CATALAN • LATIN • ENGLISH
director: Ciro Guerra.
writer: Ciro Guerra & Jacques Toulemonde Vidal (based on the diaries of Theodor Koch-Grunberg & Richard Evans Schultes).
starring: Nilbio Torres, Jan Bijvoet, Antonio Bolívar, Brionne Davis, Yauenkü Migue, Nicolás Cancino & Luigi Sciamanna.