This is an interesting proposition: while the weather is gray and the social climate is rather gloomy, instead of thinking about hiding away, November invites us to reach out to others. Reach out, listen, share. An almost subversive invitation that comes at just the right time.
Let us immediately avoid any confusion: Novembre, as we will have understood, is the name of a feature film, presented this Saturday at the closing of the 26th Montreal International Documentary Meetings (RIDM), which we will be able to see in theaters from 1st December.
We met its two directors, Karine van Ameringen and Iphigénie Marcoux-Fortier, at the Cinémathèque this week, to discuss their inspiring invitation, on a very gray day, worthy of the month in question.
Certainly, not much happens in this film, which is essentially contemplative. At the same time, and for more than 90 minutes, so much happens. This is because we discover a number of people there, met more or less by chance, in the maze of the city and the grayness of the month. First: a blind immigrant in a taxi, then his driver, another passenger, and so on. From the artist to the disabled person, including the elderly person, the mother, the young person, all these people (sorry: these characters) appear without transition on the screen, in a sort of relay conversation, to y philosophize about the meaning of life. Everyone will also add their two cents on the difficulty of being yourself, the world going to shit, the price of steak, the obsession with performance, etc.
We will recognize Santa Claus (!) and the Mile End Fairy (Patsy Van Roost) in the lot, also made up of strangers in the city. The city, in fact, is the backdrop to this quilt of confidences. We recognize Saint-Laurent Boulevard there, Rosemont here, and Laurier Park further away, day and night, with lots of gray. It goes in all directions. We enter many people’s homes. But somewhere, everything comes together. No doubt, November is certainly the most colorful black and white film you will ever watch.
“And November is the ideal context, it’s an unloved month, a little empty, often difficult, where we prepare to hibernate, it’s a period of melancholy,” adds Iphigénie Marcoux-Fortier.
The two filmmakers, to whom we owe the research, editing and production here, founded their production company 20 years ago: Les glaneuses. Its name alone sums up their mission. “This is our deep philosophy,” continues Iphigénie Marcoux-Fortier. Collect, be interested in stories that are not necessarily seen or known, go out and meet people! »
“It’s really a way of life,” adds his colleague, “a way for us to understand the world, ask questions, understand why we are here. The idea is to say: we live in an alienating world, in a system that promotes productivity, consumption, and we don’t spend a lot of time taking care of the people around us. »
Hence this hand extended towards the bicycle repairer here, the homeless person there, a gesture which is part of a sort of thumbing its nose at the diktat of ambient productivism, to take the time to listen to the other, and just take the time.
In doing so, the viewer is in some way caught up in the characters, and especially their thoughts, which follow one another, sometimes respond to each other, but sometimes not. We don’t really know where all this will lead us, but certainly, it forces us to take some time out. That will already be a win. “The idea is to embrace this depression,” concludes Karine van Ameringen. We often feel bad to stop, to think, to settle down! However, this state of spleen is also there to allow us to settle down. […] There are plenty of important people who have things to say! »
Why not listen to them after all?