Venice: Alice Diop talks about her stunning sci-fi film ‘Saint Omer’

[The following story contains spoilers from Saint Omer.]

Acclaimed French documentary filmmaker Alice Diop makes a steady transition to narrative role holy omerHis first fiction film, which premiered this week in the main competition at the Venice Film Festival.

The film follows Rama (Kaije Kagame), a young pregnant novelist, who attends the trial of Laurence Coley (Guslagi Malanda), a Senegalese woman accused of murdering her 15-month-old baby and leaving him on the beach to take her away. nod. Rama arrives in the French town of Saint-Omer, in northern France, where the trial will be held, with the intention of turning the tragic event into a literary version of Medea, but as he learns more about Colle’s life, he becomes increasingly increasingly preoccupied with their own memories. . and pregnancy

Like her protagonist, Diop, also the daughter of Senegalese immigrants, traveled to witness the actual trial of a Senegalese woman accused of similar infanticide in 2013. Diop’s personal passion for the case eventually provided the raw material for his first narrative script. , co-written with acclaimed author Marie Ndiaye (also co-writer of Claire Danes’ 2009 feature film). white substance).

Diop has won numerous awards over the past decade, including Best Documentary at the Berlin Film Festival. Nous Last year, with the camera reviewing the injustices and intimate stories of immigrant communities outside Paris, he characterized the show as a political act of reorientation.

in front of Venice the hollywood reporter spoke with Diop about the origins and intentions behind his elaborate fictional debut.

I understand that the film is loosely based on his personal observations of the actual trial, as well as those of Rama, his hero. What attracted you to this work and how did that experience turn into a creative project that defined its own aesthetic and political goals?

It is true that when I first heard about this story, I was absolutely fascinated and mesmerized by what actually happened. This woman who dropped her daughter on the beach at high tide with the moon shining on her: there was a really lyrical element even in the way reporters described the event that made it bigger than just news. And there was something about it that was on the order of Greek tragedy and mythology, and I think that’s why it appealed to me, and I think that’s what led me to go to this woman’s trial, even though I didn’t know if I was going to be. happen before the movie. But my experience there convinced me that a film should be made. The case received a lot of media attention in France. And it was an occasion that really spoke to all kinds of women, white women, black women, all women thought it was very important. And all the women I met during my five days of trial brought a huge personal investment in trying to understand the mystery of the accused woman, which I think suggests a universal and timeless quality. I felt that this was a story that would allow me to make a film that was about women, motherhood, and the invisibility of black women. In fact, all my projects, all the issues that I work on, were somehow tied together in this woman’s story.

The complexity of Lawrence Kohl’s story and his motivations seems to have been deliberately left unresolved. What struck me at the end of the film was its strange mixture of pain and strength. At the same time, through the different perspectives of those around them, we show how they tried to simplify their story, perhaps to suit their own prejudices, or to satisfy their own need for a simplified version of it. story. How were these creative solutions formed from your experiences and what were you trying to express with them?

What you say is very interesting because actually my personal experience at the trial was like someone who has never been to a trial and we have never been to a trial. I saw this accused woman, forced to answer all these questions. And he was dealing with all these objective facts, which cumulatively led to or demonstrated the impossibility of understanding the human soul, especially in the case of the woman who killed her child. I heard a prayer there, in particular, very important. It was at the beginning of the trial that the judge asked him, “Why did you kill your daughter?” And he replied, “I don’t know. I hope this essay will show me the answer to that question. “I think that phrase was really decisive in all my choices in terms of direction and pointed me in the staging.

What is the ritual of justice that takes place in a trial, if not that belief in the restoration of objective truth, which certainly does not exist; There is no truth. So what fascinates me is the ritual of judicial justice, which seeks to reveal the truth of a person that, ultimately, will always remain a mystery. We ourselves are the mystery. So human truth is always made up of the projections we have, and this is especially true for a black woman, where those projections are violent. And that’s what I tried to translate into the film.

The mystery of Lawrence Kohl’s film is a mystery that existed for me and exists for the audience. The inability to understand her, especially the one who killed her son, forces us to look at our own grave. And that’s where the character of Rama comes in as an avatar, or the audience’s point of view. And so the film becomes truly universal. And it was in that direction that I tried to work in my direction.

I add here that the issue of the film that we experience through Rama is the issue of motherhood. It forces all of us, through this woman, to try to understand our relationship with our mothers. One of the main themes of the film is the question “What is it like to be a mother?”

This shift from the specific to the universal was what impressed me personally about the film. Because for much of the film, I was very drawn to Rama’s perspective on the trial and the interesting similarities and differences she shares with Laurence Colley as two Senegalese women in French society. But then, at the end, it suddenly expands, and you see that the other diverse collection of women on trial is also profoundly affected by the process. So even as an American living in Japan, I found myself very far removed from Lawrence Kohl’s experience, thinking deeply about my wife and daughter, my wife’s relationship with her mother, and my own relationship. with my mother. How did this telescope go from the particular to the universal in this way?

It’s a question I love, and it’s one of the best compliments I can get from a film: that the white man has been touched by such a distant and universal aspect, it’s just beautiful. And that’s really the main issue. That’s what I’ve tried to achieve in all the films I’ve made, that the black body can carry the universal. We have a very specific experience expressed by black women like me who grew up in France as immigrant women and all the violence that French society can have on our bodies. And that’s what the film doesn’t say in words, it’s the emotional story we see when Rama remembers his childhood. But the goal is that at the end of the film, somehow, it makes each person, each viewer, think of the mother, the children, etc. And that’s really the point or gift of the film. And in that sense, the film is political for me. It is political insofar as it recognizes the universality of the black body.

At the beginning of the film, Rama gives a short talk about Marguerite Duras and the scenes. Hiroshima my love It’s shown and I think you’ve read about the film and your comments on how to interpret it acted as a framing device, a sort of instruction manual on how to interpret the film below.

Yes sure. You know, we have very few elements in the movie about who Rama is; He’s a pretty laid back character, and there are only a few definite signs of who he is. So this beginning, in a way, gives us the perspective that he has, what his look is going to be and how he’s going to look at Lawrence. I mean, she is a woman, Rama, she is a scholar of Marguerite Duras. She is interested in the taboo, in the unspeakable violence that is exerted on the woman’s body. And since he’s a novelist, we can imagine that’s what would interest him in Laurence Kohl’s character. There is also an issue here, and one that for me as a director is not resolved in the film. It’s a question of how we judge women: always, going back to the beginning, we judge women and women’s crimes. And that’s something that spoils the whole movie and runs through it.

There is one more specific point I would like to ask you about. It was the only time in the film that Rama and Lawrence interacted directly: a brief moment when they make eye contact in court and Lawrence gives him a small smile that seems to bother Rama a lot. How should we interpret this moment?

Well, I refuse to answer that question. I really tried to work with this movie on the feelings that really show what Rama is going through, but in a non-narrative way. So that pivotal scene where they exchange glances, I know what it means, but I don’t think I could say what it is. I don’t even think I can say what it is. At this point, your entire story ends. And for that there is no single answer. And I think what interests me more than explaining what is happening at that moment is hearing what each spectator is going through and experiencing as an eyewitness of that moment.

Well, this is a very mysterious and difficult time for me. It gave me a deep sense of mystery.

Perhaps the only thing I can say to lift the veil on this mystery is that this is the moment when Rama stops. This is the only time he realizes he has to live his own life. This is the moment the obsession ends, where he realizes that trying to understand his own life by getting into someone else’s head isn’t going to work. This is the moment when the projection ends abruptly. This is all I can say. And I can only say this now because I just found out. interesting; You made me verbalize.

Have you ever had that moment when you were in a courtroom?

A small yes. Not with the same look and not with such a direct face. But yeah, at some point I had to stop this identity threat. Fortunately, you know, Lawrence Kohl is not me. You know, I have a 13-year-old son and he’s doing really well. In fact, he was just walking. So luckily, you know, this is something that hasn’t been my problem. But there was a moment when the excitement died down. And I think that’s when I decided I was going to write a movie. Like I went too far, and then I had to come back to myself to sort it all out.

This interview has been edited and summarized for clarity.