This August, Cineworks will host Seeking the Taproot, a special screening of two deeply personal films by Sakha filmmaker and InFocus Film School Film Production Program graduate Aina Vinokurova. The screening pairs her InFocus final project Holumtan as well as Nimer, which she filmed before joining the school. These works that dig toward the deepest roots of Vinokurova’s identity, heritage, and the stories of her people. For her, cinema is both self-discovery and a form of collective healing, a way to confront the inherited silences left by colonization while giving voice to traditions and histories that endure. Shot across the landscapes of her homeland in Yakutia, these films invite Vancouver audiences into an intimate journey of belonging, resilience, and cultural reclamation.
The free limited-space screening will take place at Cineworks Independent Film Society Black Box Studio (1131 Howe Street) on August 15 at 7:00PM. We chatted with Aina ahead of the screening to talk about her films and how moving to Canada impacted her experience as a filmmaker.
Aina working on set
Your screening at Cineworks is titled Seeking the Taproot featuring your films Holumtun and Nimer. What does that phrase mean to you, and why did you choose it for this program?
The “taproot” is the deepest root of a plant, the one that anchors it and draws nourishment from the earth. This program brings together two films that are both about my search for that root in my own life: my heritage, my identity, and the stories of my people. I chose this title because both Holumtan and Nimer are acts of digging, sometimes gently, sometimes with force, toward the core of who I am and where I come from.
Both Holumtan and Nimer deeply explore themes of heritage and cultural identity. How do you approach weaving your roots into your storytelling?
For me, cinema is a tool for self-discovery and collective healing. Through my films, I explore questions of identity, memory, and the inherited silences left by colonization. I believe that for Indigenous peoples, art is not only expression. It is survival, storytelling, and a form of resistance. That means my work isn’t just about showing culture on screen; it’s about engaging with it as a living force, listening to what has been passed down, and giving voice to what has been silenced. I start from my own memories and the stories entrusted to me.
Shot from ‘Holumtan’
You’ve spoken about reconnecting with your grandfather and discovering your Even ancestry in your thirties. How has that revelation shaped your work as a filmmaker?
In my thirties, I called my grandfather and asked him the most important question: Who are we? I knew my mother, who passed away when I was five, was from the North, but I didn’t know much more. He told me about his family and homeland, and that conversation opened a door into a part of myself I had never truly known. I’m still learning about my Even heritage, and Nimer was the first step. A way to reconnect with the way of life my ancestors lived, and with a culture that was never presented to me growing up.
You began in journalism and became the first Sakha woman on federal Russian television. What lessons from that experience still influence how you tell stories today?
That experience taught me both the power and the limits of mainstream media. I learned how to reach broad audiences, but I also faced censorship and prejudice. It made me determined to create work outside those constraints, to tell stories that might be inconvenient or uncomfortable for some, but necessary for truth and dignity.
Leaving journalism for filmmaking was a major shift. What does documentary and narrative film give you that journalism could not?
Journalism gave me speed and structure, but film gives me depth and time. In journalism, you often have hours or days to tell a story; in film, you can live with it for years, letting layers emerge. Narrative and documentary filmmaking allow me to explore emotion, spirituality, and heritage in ways journalism never could.
How has studying at InFocus Film School shaped your growth as a director both in terms of technical skills and your creative voice?
InFocus gave me the technical foundation I needed: camera work, editing, lighting. It also the encouragement to experiment. I came in as a storyteller; I left with the tools to make those stories visually and emotionally immersive. It also taught me how to work with a team and trust other people to help you tell your story and bring your vision to life.
Visual storytelling plays a huge role in your work. How do you use cinematography and imagery to carry meaning that words alone can’t?
In my culture, landscapes are not just backdrops—they are characters. I use cinematography to let the land, the weather, and the light speak alongside the people. Sometimes what I want to express can’t be said in words, but it can be felt in the way the snow falls or the river moves.
Your characters often navigate moments of cultural collision—between tradition and modernity, or between different worldviews. What draws you to those tensions?
Those moments where tradition meets modernity, or worldviews clash. are where transformation happens. They’re not always comfortable, but they reveal so much about resilience, adaptation, and the cost of change. As someone living between cultures myself, I feel drawn to those edges.
Shot from ‘Nimer’
How do you hope audiences in Vancouver will connect with Holumtan and Nimer, given that the stories are rooted in a place far from here?
Even if the films are rooted in Yakutia, the themes of family, identity and belonging are universal. I hope audiences will see their own stories reflected in the struggles and triumphs of my characters, even if the landscapes are far away.
You filmed Holumtan as a student at InFocus Film School, but Nimer was shot before you moved to Canada. Can you tell us more about this film?
Nimer was filmed before I came to Canada, and I completed it while living here last year. So far, my biggest accomplishment with Nimer is that it was selected for imagineNATIVE, one of the largest Indigenous film festivals in the world, and we had its premiere this past July in Toronto. I’ve also submitted it to other festivals and am excited to share it with more audiences.
Any final thoughts to share?
Both Holumtan and Nimer are, in different ways, love letters to the land that raised me, to the people who shaped me, and to the stories that refuse to be forgotten. Sharing them here in Vancouver is an honor. I hope that after the screening, people become curious about my land and my people, and that it inspires them to reflect on their own roots and identity.
