Drama • NR • 99 Minutes • 2025
There are so many interesting pockets of diasporic communities in Canada. So many of them go unexplored and misunderstood in Canadian art, from Paldi, B.C., where some of the earliest Sikh-Canadians founded a small community on Vancouver Island in the early 20th century, to the Parkdale neighbourhood in Toronto — home to many of the newest Canadian immigrants and most recently home to a large community of Tibetan-Canadians. Writer/director Kunsang Kyirong’s feature-length debut film, 100 Sunset, explores that Tibetan community in a hypnotic slow-burn that challenges community standards and explores cultural isolation.
Kunsel (Tenzin Kunsel), a young woman with kleptomaniac tendencies, befriends her new neighbour, Passang (Sonam Choekyi). After stealing a mini-DV camcorder, Kunsel spies on Passang from across the apartment block in a plea for connection. Kunsel and Passang form a rebellious bond and share their innermost secrets with each other, resulting in a cry for intimacy and independence.
Kyirong not only shows that she has the building blocks of filmmaking mastered in 100 Sunset, but also brings along an experimental flair that she utilizes to push the narrative forward with its static shots of Kunsel’s surroundings, POV shots through the mini-DV camera, and a dash of ’70s post-French New Wave cinema. Kunsel’s character’s lack of dialogue and the documentation of deep isolation through her DV camera are perfectly photographed motifs by Nikolay Michaylov. His lingering and symmetrical shots through the triteness of everyday life are especially bold. Whether it’s a long train speeding past the frame or a cultural event, Michaylov’s cinematography and Kyirong’s direction liven up this slow-burn with its European influences. With the use of lots of natural light, 100 Sunset feels timeless, like the immigrant story is an ageless experience where language and culture have lapsed, and rebellion is the only way to make sense of your new surroundings.
Kyirong features non-professional actors, including Tenzin Kunsel. Her reserved performance can feel like something’s missing at times. Still, with the added traits of kleptomania and shyness, that reservedness blossoms into an interesting character study about connection and isolation. Does she steal because she feels like Toronto isn’t her home? Or because she doesn’t feel like anything belongs to her or anyone else? What separates a traditional Tibetan community from a country outside the borders of the community, and is there a disconnect that identifies disobedience? The film asks for your patience as well as some detective work — to view Kunsel’s experiences through her own lens (literally).
Where Choekyi’s Passang brilliantly steps in is through a strong contrast to Kunsel. Passang’s upbeat and conversational attitude marks a large difference from Kunsel’s character. Choekyi’s performance builds off of the isolation her costar exhibits, but the way the two characters react in their portrayals is largely divergent from one another. No matter how much poker you play, there is no single gesture you can see to determine a bluff or a lie, or how someone is feeling deep down. This is the mark of smart filmmaking and even smarter acting. Passang exhibits the same feelings of isolation and rebellion against cultural standards, but plots rather than stews. Pairing the two characters together creates a beautiful yin and yang that helps reinforce many of the film’s broader themes.
A unifying piece that truly brings the film together is Tashi Dorji’s transcendent score. It’s a haunting piece of composed music that reflects the community through his use of experimental guitar. Dorji’s score feels like it plays on the offbeat of the film, filling the void and rounding out the world through a hypnotic wave of sound. Yet, a short blip of music by POiSON GiRLFRiEND slips the film into more conventional territory — a short montage filled with a song from the pop singer feels out of place in a world built off its mise-en-scène. However, it’s only for a brief second that reflects a moment of peace and connection between Kunsel and Passang and quickly places you back into the familiar world of 100 Sunset.
100 Sunset is a strong film that may require patience and attention but will treat you to an intense study of an often-overlooked community within our own borders. While it may take a minute or two to dig into many of its themes, if you choose to watch casually, 100 Sunset will still reward you with its talent across all aspects of the filmmaking process in this beautiful debut film.
100 Sunset was nominated for one Canadian Screen Award.
Where to Watch
100 Sunset was viewed via private screener.
Also worth checking: CBC Gem (often carries Canadian titles not listed elsewhere).
about the author
Merrick Gajdics is founder, publisher and editor of The Canadian Film Reviewer.