In The last mealher first fiction feature film, Maryse Legagneur features a Quebecer of Haitian origin, played by Marie-Evelyne Lessard, who collects the confidences of her father, imprisoned under the Duvalier regime. The Press met them.
Thanks to Frantz Voltaire, president of the International Center for Haitian, Caribbean and Afro-Canadian Documentation and Information (CIDIHCA), documentary filmmaker Maryse Legagneur (In the name of mother and son) was able to meet survivors of Fort Dimanche, a former prison under the dictatorship of François Duvalier. For around ten years, the winner of the last edition of The world destination racein 1998-1999, spoke with these broken men, almost all of whom are now deceased.
« Quand je suis arrivée devant les survivants et qu’ils ont commencé à me raconter leur histoire, ce qui m’a vraiment étonnée, c’est qu’ils n’étaient plus capables de s’arrêter. Ils avaient brisé le silence. Ils m’ont livré des choses qu’ils n’avaient confiées à personne ou à très peu de gens. Une grande partie des scènes de prison sont inspirées de leurs témoignages. J’aurais aimé qu’ils voient le film, qui est vraiment un devoir de mémoire ; je suis honorée de la confiance qu’ils m’ont faite », raconte Maryse Legagneur.
Alors qu’elle aurait pu tourner un documentaire, Maryse Legagneur a préféré raconter ces histoires trop longtemps tues sous la forme d’un « drame culinaire », selon son expression, où la nourriture devient le langage commun entre deux générations séparées par le silence.
« La fiction m’a permis de faire de la dentelle avec le fil barbelé que forment les récits des survivants, d’y ajouter une forme de poésie, d’humanité, de dignité. De plonger là-dedans avec le cinéma documentaire, c’est comme si ça me dérangeait tellement j’étais terrifiée par le récit réel. Je voulais aussi un récit intergénérationnel pour faire la démonstration de la passation de la violence, et aussi de l’espoir et la possibilité de stopper ce cycle par la parole », explique celle qui a accompagné des patients en fin de vie pendant 10 ans.
La lourdeur des traumas
Écrit avec Luis Molinié (le court métrage Mamita), Le dernier repas nous transporte à Montréal, en 2011, année du retour de Jean-Claude Duvalier en Haïti après 25 ans d’exil. Atteint d’un cancer de l’estomac, Reynold (Gilbert Laumord) réclame sa fille Vanessa (Marie-Evelyne Lessard) à son chevet. Bien qu’en froid avec ce père violent depuis près de 20 ans, Vanessa accepte de revoir Reynold, qui lui demande d’apporter des mets haïtiens. Au fil des repas, que Vanessa a préparés avec sa tante Dado (Mireille Metellus), Reynold lui raconte ses souvenirs de Fort Dimanche, où il a été fait prisonnier quand il était jeune (Fabrice Yvanoff Sénat).
« On parle de Fort Dimanche, mais il y avait aussi les casernes Dessalines, vaguement évoquées au début du film, quand Fanfan [David Bélizaire] is released from prison. They were small neighborhood prisons where the men were taken for a night or a week; they were tortured a little in order to establish a climate of terror. Even if these men said that not much had happened there, these prisons created broken men and cycles of violence,” recalls Marie-Evelyne Lessard.
“I have the impression of having been the cut that absorbed these stories, hence the violence of the film. There are scenes that are hard to watch, I’m full of strong emotions, quite intense things. I realize that there is a kind of catharsis in releasing this violence,” explains the filmmaker.
I found it important to show this violence, but also very bright things so that the viewer could be between these two sensations.
Maryse Legagneur, director
Upon learning that the meals are intended for Reynold, whom she accuses of having broken her sister, Dado refuses to help Vanessa prepare Haitian specialties for him. Ready to discover the whole truth about her father, Vanessa herself will have to learn about the cuisine of her ancestors, part of the history of which escapes her.
“There is certainly a legacy of the dictatorship which has percolated until now,” believes Maryse Legagneur. We are the first generation to take root in Quebec, nevertheless we feel the heaviness of the traumas of the previous generation, whether in education or in daily life. We grew up in a not-so-silent silence since all the Haitians of that generation turned on the Haitian radio on Saturday mornings. We understood that something terrible was happening in their country of origin, but it was not explained to us to protect us, to protect us from brutal and violent stories. »
“It was completely taboo, never named,” confirms the actress. We have all seen in our uncles, our aunts, a seriousness in their eyes that all populations have who have experienced trauma, oppression, dictatorship – and I am not just talking about Haiti. I often saw her in my mother’s eyes, especially when she was washing the dishes, suddenly I felt that she was no longer with us. It’s a shame my mother died; I would have liked to have been able to talk about it with her, for her to see the film. »
A human adventure
Filming being perilous in Haiti and Ford Dimanche having been completely destroyed by the earthquake of January 12, 2010, Maryse Legagneur went to the Dominican Republic with her team for the scenes taking place in Haiti. On site, the director witnessed the racial discrimination suffered by the Creole-speaking Haitian extras, who were waiting for news from their loved ones who remained in Haiti during the six weeks of filming.
“It’s a loss that I had to make not to film in Haiti, but I realize to what extent making this film in the Dominican Republic was a great service to these guys. They came to the set with pride. Survivors themselves, they knew that by playing survivors, they were denouncing a situation in which the Haitian people had to survive,” says the director.
While she salutes the courage of the actors, the filmmaker says that on the last evening, while we were celebrating the end of filming, one of them came to thank the team. For the first time in 10 years since he lived in the Dominican Republic, he felt like he could play his music and feel safe.
“The human adventure of the film is a great adventure. That night when we danced to our music, I told myself that no matter what happens with the movie, I don’t care. The biggest part of the movie experience was realized that night: we were glorious. It was a moment of glory,” concludes Maryse Legagneur.
In the room