‘Cielo’ review: A young girl embarks on a quest across Bolivia in this uncertain fable

Dir/scr: Alberto Sciamma. UK/Bolivia. 2025. 108 mins 

Breathtaking landscapes, bravura cinematography and an engaging child lead go a long way to bolstering Bolivian-set quest movie Cielo. But ultimately the film is further proof that the literary tradition of magical realism too easily turns to kitsch when translated into visual images. This UK/Bolivia co-production is a departure for Spanish writer-director and genre specialist Alberto Sciamma, who made his name with pulp comedy-horror Killer Tongue (1996). Here, Sciamma reinvents himself in more high-minded arthouse mode, very approachably – but the film exudes a distinct preciousness, just about offset by the no-nonsense energy of young debut lead Fernanda Gutiérrez Aranda.

Odd tone of fable-like innocence coupled with grim narrative elements

Cielo premiered at Portugal’s Fantasporto where it won the international fantasy film special jury award, audience award and best cinematography, and now plays Fantasia following a berth at SXSW London. The film’s excessively heartfelt tone is likely to deter hardcore cinephiles but may appeal to a broader audience – if still a niche one. 

Cielo, meaning ‘heaven’, is set and filmed in some of the wilder landscapes of Bolivia, where eight-year-old Indigenous girl (Gutiérrez Aranda) lives in austere rural surroundings with her parents. A striking opening shot shows her against the backdrop of mountains and a lake, in which she catches a large yellow fish which she promptly swallows whole. She then kills her father Julio (Juan Carlos Aduviri) with a heart-shaped stone, and stabs her mother Paz (Carla Arana), whom she crams into a barrel, preserving the body with scoopings from the vast salt flats nearby. 

Macabre as this opening might seem, its grimness is artfully defused by the sunlit vividness of the visuals and by Gutiérrez Aranda’s winningly matter-of-fact manner. Indeed, while flashbacks reveal the father to be a bad ‘un, the girl proves to be on a compassionate mission regarding her mother, who she plans to restore to life later. Given a rundown truck by disillusioned village priest Father Jaime (Luis Bredow), the girl intends to reach a place called Heaven that she’s heard about.

Improbably driving her truck with utter confidence – we are in a fairy-tale realm, after all – Santa breaks down in the desert, but is rescued by a touring company of female wrestlers. Later apprehended, the girl is questioned by small-town police captain Gustavo (well-established Bolivian screen presence Fernando Arze Echalar). The world-weary Gustavo will eventually find redemption through the miraculous child – whom he comes to call ‘Santa’, also the name of the fish that she says is still alive in her belly (confusingly, multiple fish get swallowed, regurgitated or killed, but they all appear to be manifestations of the same eternal piscine spirit). 

Cielo hits a high note of tension and cinematic virtuosity when the wrestlers’ bus negotiates a precarious mountain road, a sequence with vertigo-inducing shades of The Wages Of Fear. From there, alas, the film loses momentum, ending queasily in a danced affirmation of spiritual and feminist liberation set to a Bolivian rap number.

Visually, there is plentiful invention, both in Alex Metcalfe’s photography (including geographic vistas often artfully intensified, with panoramic, highly coloured nightscapes) and in the costumes and production design, with electric reds, oranges and blues drawing on the colours of Bolivian folk art. A score showcasing marimba and pan pipes adds to a plausibly indigenous flavour.

But Cielo is uncertainly pitched, with its odd tone of fable-like innocence coupled with grim narrative elements. It’s only tenuously that this could be considered a family film, while young adult audiences will surely find it too soft-centred. Cielo is more likely to strike a chord with older viewers who are not averse to mystically-tinged sentiment.