Labrador: Autopsy of Silence is a meticulously crafted fixation on the nuances of silence and isolation, a documenting of the long, dark rhythms of life in the Arctic and on a cargo ship. Directed by Québécois filmmaker Rodrigue Jean, it’s one of only two Indigenous-themed features screening at Tribeca this year (the other is Elle Sofe Sara’s Árru from Norway). While this subdued thriller is accomplished and effective, it is also worth considering what might have been had the story been directed from a First Nations perspective rather than a Québécois one.
The film acknowledges a form of colonialism and code of silence that demotes its lead to a second-class citizen in the eyes of the law. Alupa is both Indigenous and queer, hiding his love affair with Alex (Alexandre Landry), the ship’s cook. Alex, meanwhile, also carries on an affair with Michelle (Gabrielle Poulin B.), the married first officer, whenever she shows up in his cabin. Alex’s body is also prone to a kind of colonization on long, cold, lonely nights at sea whenever Michelle feels like exerting her power.
When Alex fails to show up to cook breakfast, the crew investigates and finds him dead of a stab wound. HIs lover, Inuk mechanic Alupa (first-time actor Christopher Angatookalook), becomes the lead suspect, setting off a chain of procedures as the crime is investigated by maritime authorities in Basse-Côte-Nord and at the federal level via the RCMP. Every member of the crew is grilled by investigators, including Michelle and Alupa. While the script conceals exactly what happened, Alupa remains silent and maintains his innocence through an evidentiary hearing in a Quebec court where he learns there is enough evidence for him to stand trial. Returning to land to live with his sister, he contemplates his next moves while the deck is stacked against him.
Rather than taking the form of a whodunit, Labrador chooses a far more nuanced path, exploring the relationships of ship life and life on shore. Jean is interested in framing characters like Alupa in long takes. One particular example from above is haunting: Alupa learns his fate in the evidentiary hearing, remaining silent while his eyes scream for help. Christopher Angatookalook is a fascinating performer to watch: a native of Kuujjuarapik who grew up in Montreal and exudes sympathy through his tattooed face and expressive eyes. Ones hopes he is given more opportunities to perform.
A study in location, loneliness, and truth, Jean’s film is replete with negative space to mirror the maritime code of silence that suggests a close-knit family keeping secrets to pass the time and fulfill desires. Inspired by a 2012 event that spawned rumors and superstitions about the vessel, this story becomes a blank slate for Jean, cinematographer Mathieu Laverdière, and sound designer Ilya Ghafouri.
Rich in its restraint and anchored by an unforgettable performance, Labrador: Autopsy of Silence is a moving, captivating picture. We sit in silence with Alupa, a peaceful man navigating multiple identities and pressures from all sides. Christopher Angatookalook’s nuanced, restrained turn makes this injustice all the more heartbreaking.
Labrador: Autopsy of Silence premiered at the 2026 Tribeca Festival.