‘The Tale of Silyan’ Review: Feathers and Folklore Amalgamate in the Latest From One of Macedonia’s Most Celebrated Filmmakers

TIFF

Between 2019 and 2020, Macedonian filmmaker Tamara Kotevska’s career skyrocketed thanks to her universally beloved work Honeyland (co-directed with Ljubomir Stefanov), which made Academy Awards history when it became the first film to be nominated for both Best Documentary and Best International Feature. Honeyland, which portrayed the lonely life of a rural beekeeper in Macedonia, captured audience hearts through its tremendous emotional heft, concerns for the decline of the natural world, and “fly on the wall” filmmaking approach.

For her latest documentary, The Tale of Silyan, which world premiered at the Venice Film Festival before crossing the Atlantic to the Toronto International Film Festival’s fiftieth edition, Koteveska builds upon the themes of human diaspora and nature conservation introduced in Honeyland while adding wondrous folkloric flourishes that further link her work to her captivating homeland of Macedonia. Connecting the hardships of a peasant farmer facing a transforming world with that of a popular 17th-century fable about a boy turned into a white stork, The Tale of Silyan is another richly touching feather Koteveska can add to her cap.

The documentary takes place in a bucolic village in Northern Macedonia, where a farmer named Nikola lives on a rustic property that his family has owned for many generations. Nikola’s wife, daughter, and granddaughter work on the land alongside him: reaping grain fields and harvesting impressive bounties of watermelons, potatoes, and cabbage. Living in coexistence with Nikola’s predominantly agrarian community are the area’s white storks, some of the world’s largest populations in fact, who pitstop in the quiet land during their breeding season, often returning to the same nests year after year. While the villagers toil away harvesting their crops on the ground, the storks find the townlet’s highest vantage points to make their massive, sturdy perches. The early moments of The Tale of Silyan capture the elegant stoicism of the ghostly birds, almost as though they are witnesses to the demanding but gratifying work and the simplicity of life that Nikola and his family relish.

As the delights of summer give way to the first sharp chills of autumn, the difficult brass tacks of Nivola’s life begin to emerge in the documentary. The markets where his family sells their goods are increasingly influenced by the fluctuations of Capitalism and government reforms, rendering their agrarian ways of life less and less profitable, regardless of the deep connections between their culture and the land. Despite Nivola’s neighbors protesting for the rights of farmers, more and more are capitulating to the forces of modernity and seeking employment opportunities in the EU. For a time, his wife follows their daughter to Germany, leaving Nivola on his own, pressured to put his ancestral lands up for sale and take a job in a landfill, far from the verdant fields he has labored on his entire life.

The storks continue to serve as spectators of this transforming land, taking to feeding on the hazardous rubbish at Nivola’s job as their natural resources dwindle in the face of declining agriculture. One day, Nivola finds a stork with a broken wing among the debris, left behind by its flock when they continue their migratory journey. After veterinarians refuse to help the bird, Nivola decides to rehabilitate the spindly-legged creature on his own.

Ciconia Film

The documentary’s imagery (cinematography by Jean Dakar) places great emphasis on the gradual connection Nivola builds with the impaired stork, which — inspired by the fable — he anoints ‘Silyan.’ Serenely composed scenes depict Nivola figuring out what to feed the bird (he loves hot dogs!), building him a nest, and most touchingly: cuddling with Silyan on the couch while a thunderstorm rages outside. Through Koteveska’s recognizably unobtrusive approach, the core of the documentary evolves into an exploration of two kind and lonesome figures who find deep solace in each other’s company.

What initiated as a study of the migratory patterns of Northern Macedonia’s white stork populations transformed into The Tale of Silyan when Koteveska and Dakar became fixated with the symbiosis they observed between nature and humankind in the beautiful region. The importance of balance with the natural world is reinforced through Silyan’s ancient tale, narrated by Nikola, and thoughtfully interwoven throughout the documentary as it progresses through the seasons, imbued with a sense of fabled wonder that heightens the work’s criticisms of cultural and environmental degradation. Seeing the massive birds gracefully move through the documentary with such presence, one can understand why these ethereal animals hold such time-spanning significance to Nikola and his community. The documentary’s design takes great lengths to portray these otherworldly essences within the storks: most impressively, the fast “clapping” call they make with their beaks, which is cleverly incorporated into moments of the film’s score.

While documentary cinema has long since been preoccupied with capturing humanity’s increasingly fraught relationship with Mother Nature and all of her creations, few filmmakers have so movingly incorporated their own cultures and backgrounds as Koteveska, first with Honeyland and now The Tale of Silyan. Through its exquisite audiovisual design and humanistic perspective, The Tale of Silyan evokes the timeless beauty of rural life and warns about the consequences that would come if it were left behind, all with a distinctive folkloric flair that fully sets the work apart from the harsh realities typically presented in this mode of documentary filmmaking.

4.5/5

North Macedonia / USA / UK, 2025, 81 min

‘The Tale of Silyan' had its North American premiere at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival on Wednesday, September 10. It is currently seeking U.S. distribution.