20,000 Species of Bees, a spell-binding Basque Berlinale 2023 contender by Estibaliz Urresola Solaguren, explores gender ambiguity and minority languages.
In a world of ever increasing polarisation, cinema offers us a welcome refuge. Many of us turn to film in the hopes of finding answers to contemporary questions – answers which are constructed with empathy, complexity and ambiguity. 20,000 Species of Bees (2023), the spell-bindingly beautiful Basque Berlinale contender, is a perfect example of this type of cinema. Director Estibaliz Urresola Solaguren navigates questions of identity, family, and femininity with a generosity and a gentleness, all against the backdrop of a summer holiday in the mesmerising Basque countryside.
Our protagonist is eight years old and reveals slowly over the course of the summer that rather than being the boy her family and friends presume her to be, she is, in fact, a girl. The questioning of sexual and gender identity in a small, rural town is no easy task. She rejects her birth name of Aitor, and instead chooses the name Lucía (Sofía Otero, who swept the Silver Bear for Best Leading Performance at the 73rd Berlinale). Lucía spends her summer navigating the complexities of swimming costumes, family ties and what it means to grow up in a world laden with gender binaries.
The Basque region does more than provide a scenic backdrop to the complex relationships, fantastic performances and wonderful screenplay. As Solaguren states, ‘Basque has a narrative value in the film’ – referring to the language. There has recently been a huge increase in the amount of new releases which feature minority languages, from Irish to Cornish to Catalan. In fact, the film’s premiere at Berlinale was the first time that the Basque language had been heard in the festival’s 73 year long history. Language is, of course, deeply linked to identity, culture and politics, with many minority languages having been banned under colonial or dictatorial rule in 20th century Europe. This reclaiming of minority languages in contemporary cinema is a hugely political act, and one which poses exciting, radical questions around language, culture, and even gender.
Unlike Spanish, Basque allows people to use a non-gendered third person. Lucía is therefore able to express herself in a ‘symbolic and liberated way’, as Solaguren comments. Lucía uses this non-gendered third person when talking with her friends and her bee-keeper great-aunt Lourdes (Ane Gabarain). Whilst the dominant culture, therefore, forces a binary choice between male/female, Basque provides a third choice, a middle ground, which breaks down traditional gender conceptions. Solaguren plays beautifully with the mixing of languages, demonstrating how our choice of words connect us to our loved ones, place us in the world, and shape our identities.
20,000 Species of Bees is a must see. Its thoughtful provocations give space for future cinema makers and goers alike to question the role of film and language in creating empathy and understanding in conversations around gender identity.
