Sylvain L'Espérance

Following his feature film Animal Macula, Sylvain L’Espérance explores with renewed originality the archives of world cinema, often far removed from the obvious landmarks of canon cinephilia. This time, his focus is on the presence of human beings on the move in films. With meticulousness, poetry, and symbolism, this work arranges this similar yet heterogeneous material to form a kind of relay race through eras, countries, and environments. In this way, these individual movements follow one another, respond to one another, or merge, tracing the complex trajectory of an imagined community travelling through a dreamlike, timeless memory. A solitary means of transport and a leisurely stroll, walking is also a vehicle for a common affirmation, collective action, solidarity, and even popular uprising.

Lucie, a PhD student without a work visa and plagued by insomnia, is trapped in a destructive affair with her thesis advisor while being pursued by a jealous ex. Seeking help from a reclusive shaman on the city’s edge, she meets Béatrice, a young woman as carefree as she is determined to help her.

Animal Macula is the result of in-depth archaeological work into the depiction of animals in world cinema over the past 125 years. From the bulk of this sometimes memorable and sometimes forgotten work, Sylvain L’Espérance provides a thoughtful compilation that highlights the complex, troubled, and often violent relationship between humans and animals. The masterful editing presents a sprawling network imbued with meaning, letting the images speak for themselves and interact freely with each other. With this fascinating film, L’Espérance continues a cinematic exploration that opens up new avenues in his work. Despite a tendency toward abstraction, the filmmaker seems increasingly anchored in reality, showcasing an admirably lucid creativity.

From Panagonia to Nunavut, during four years, Carlos Ferrand visited dear friends, men and women he met wandering the americas. All the while, observing the way of life of the forgotten populations and learning about the fate of some indigenous people.

Nestor, Lei, Pierrette, Mohamed, Hafida, Marius, Marc, Galina, Genady, Mike and Lala: through their presence, Le temps qu’il fait weaves a mosaic of stories in which dreams and disappointments, hopes and worries intertwine with the life that is before them. In counterpoint, there are these new landscapes of financial centers, abandoned industrial spaces and wasteland from which we hear the echo of speeches that call to take the train of the new economy. By their simple attachment to a profession which gives them a living, the men and women of the film put up resistance to these slogans. Little by little, a radical rupture is emerging between economic thought and the movement of life. A break that shapes the present time.

While travelling the roads of the Quebec countryside, one often sees off-beat structures and fabulous installations. These curious constructions are the work of local people who, even with no artistic training, are compelled by an almost-visceral desire to create. This film shows us the work and everyday life of three such artists. Harshly judged by their compatriots, they face the devastating reality of living on the fringe of a society that seeks to ostracize them at all cost.

Before Daybreak is a film about how life is passed on, and about the privileged relationship people have with the land they inhabit. In her house on Providence Island, Florence performs her timeless gestures. In Lourdes-de-Blanc-Sablon, Simonne opens her house and heart to guests, friends, people without work. Mireille, Florence’s daughter, affirms her desire to keep living in Tête-à-la-Baleine despite the decline in fishing. Gédéon, an old fisherman, observes the universe through his fertile imagination. The passenger freighter, Nordik Express is the silent witness of the links woven by time in the immense territory of the lower North Shore of the St. Lawrence.