Botir ABDURAKHMANOV / Uzbekistan / 2026 / 87min / Competition 

“Tell me, father. Who am I?” Thirty minutes into the film, the protagonist asks that existential question with seething anger. Hilol (Nargiza Bakayeva), the youngest daughter raised as a son by her alcoholic father in rural Uzbekistan, will keep looking for an answer throughout Hilol, a fairly solid feature debut by Botir Abdurakhmonov. A stark realist drama, the film is anchored by the presence of Bakayeva as Hilol. The first time we see her face, she’s in a barbershop, having a haircut: it’s the face of a tomboy who tries to look tough, but also a face whose tenderness and feminine beauty struggle to shine through the hard shell. Hilol achieves so much from the ambiguity etched in Bakayeva’s alternately confused and unyielding face. With her siblings living their own lives, Hilol, a former taekwondo champion, is left to tend to their ailing father (Alisher Yuldashev). When her sisters plot Hilol to enter an arranged marriage, at the same time as Hilol runs into her old friend, Doni (Asliddin Amrullayev), a storm of uncomfortable feelings assails the young woman. “That is our nature,” says her pregnant sister, trying to persuade Hilol into accepting the arrangement. But what, exactly, is her nature? Pregnancy, or the black-belt high kick? Like many films from Central Asia, the immense landscape — majestic and despairing — comes to symbolize the destiny of the characters. The mountains dwarf Hilol as she runs; the towering power poles extend into the horizon. The black, craggy, deformed rocks of an old quarry harden the texture of the film. The film’s harsh realism allows a couple of mysteries, like the car on fire at the beginning. The film’s attempt to frame Hilol’s story within the larger clash between tradition and modernity is half-hearted and underdeveloped. Amidst all of this, the film is grounded in the heartbreak of its protagonist, a person trapped between genders, between worlds, between the old and the unknown new.