If you’ve never seen Akira Kurosawa’s 1950 psychological thriller “Rashomon,” go find three people who have seen the film — and possibly a medium who can channel the spirit of Ryūnosuke Akutagawa —and ask them to describe it. You may receive wildly different interpretations. OK, I’m being cheeky: Set in 12th century Japan, “Rashomon” examines the testimony of several people who describe the murder of a samurai in a forest. Each character offers a different account, often to protect their pride or mask their own cowardice or corruption. Directed by Kurosawa, the film used a screenplay he co-wrote with Shinobu Hashimoto, which in turn was based upon Akutagawa’s short story “In a Grove.”
Kurosawa is credited with creating a new narrative device, now known as the “Rashomon Effect.” Films such as “Courage Under Fire,” “The Last Duel,” and “Vantage Point” were all influenced by Kurosawa’s masterpiece. Variations on the storytelling technique can be found in “The Usual Suspects” and “Gone Girl.”
Kyrgyz filmmaker Radik Ashimov skillfully employs this story structure to deliver the tense, gripping psychological thriller “Burning.” The film earned the 2025 Gold Audience Award for Best Asian Feature and a Special Jury Mention from the Quebec Association of Film Critics at the Fantasia Film Festival in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Released Sept. 4, “Burning” can be seen exclusively on IndiePix Unlimited on Amazon Prime Video.
“Burning” is set in a semi-rural Kyrgyzstan town, surrounded by mountains. The backdrop reveals a mix of colonial Russian architecture and Soviet-era housing blocks. Central paved thoroughfares give way to unpaved dirt and gravel roads in neighborhoods away from the city center.
Throughout each segment of “Burning,” Ashimov conveys an important message: Life in a Kyrgyzstan town has its challenges, but it is not so different from other countries. The working class faces challenges due to inadequacies in basic infrastructure but perseveres through toughness and fortitude. Ashimov also critiques the shortcomings of the town square dynamic in which individuals gather to speculate, hypothesize and indict their neighbors. What small town — or Facebook group — doesn’t have its share of rumormongers?
What we know at the beginning of the film is that a fire has broken out in the house of a young, married couple, Asel (Aysanat Edigeeva) and Marat (Ömürbek Izrailov). At the time of the conflagration, Marat’s mother, Farida (Kalicha Seydalieva), was also in the house. We also learn that the couple recently lost their firstborn son.
A group of neighbors gathers at a small convenience store the same night. Those present begin by expressing sympathy and shock, but the conversation quickly moves toward conjecture. Various interpretations of the events leading up to the fire are presented through fragmented and conflicting recollections.
Jyrgal (Ruslan Orozakunov), an older neighbor, provides the first perspective. He attributes the tragedy to witchcraft, drawing a connection between the region’s folklore and Asel’s abrupt psychological deterioration. In this instance, Jyrgal’s subjective blame holds Farida responsible for everything bad that has happened. This segment leans heavily into supernatural horror and features an intensely graphic scene that is part of a surreal hallucination.
Next, Durus (Askar Kachkynbaev), a younger neighbor, challenges Jyrgal’s story, reminding him that he dislikes Farida due to a previous encounter. According to Durus, Marat believed Asel was possessed by a Jinn, a supernatural being derived from ancient, pre-Islamic Arabian religion. Again, the faulty reconstruction of events involves — and points the finger at — paranormal phenomena, pushing “Burning” deeper into horror territory.
There are moments in each of the first two accounts in which the director cleverly drops hints that a crucial part of the story is being intentionally omitted.
In the third and final act, Aisalkyn (Zhanilai Isakova) shares her personal observations. Here, Ashimov discards the film’s prior supernatural elements and reveals the true horror. Despite the director’s subtle foreshadowing, it is a shocking and devastating revelation. This account — which seems to be as close to the truth as we can get — underscores how tradition and cultural values can be perverted to conceal violent behavior. “Burning” lays bare Marat’s rage and resentment while condemning patriarchal family dynamics and a community that chooses willful ignorance rather than compassion. Most of the neighbors refuse to acknowledge trauma and abuse even when they witness it firsthand.
Each character’s personality shifts depending upon who is telling the story. Edigeeva does an outstanding job in delivering three strikingly different versions of Asel. She covers everything from grief and distress to demonic madness. Likewise, Marat initially comes across as a sympathetic character, but by the final act his true nature is exposed.
Like “A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night” and “Under the Shadow,” “Burning” deserves accolades and respect. Hopefully, audiences will see more creative output from Ashimov in the future.
Lee Clark Zumpe is entertainment editor at Tampa Bay Newspapers, a Tomatometer-Approved Critic, and an author of short fiction. He can be reached by email at lzumpe@TBNweekly.com.