Multidisciplinary artist rolling his bump for twenty years and director of a few short films, including Release (2005), which won him the Jean-Vigo prize, Thomas Salvador is too rare in front of and behind the camera. Almost 10 years later Vincent has no scaleswhere he embodied a man becoming powerful in contact with water, he returns with a second feature film where his mineral interpretation perfectly suits this fable with an ecological flavor mixed with fantasy.
SACD Prize at the Quinzaine des cinéastes last year, The mountain depicts the aptly named Pierre, a taciturn Parisian engineer, who, during an important presentation in the Alps, loses himself in contemplation in front of the snow-capped peaks. Claiming to have contracted a virus so as not to return to Paris, here is the man who buys everything necessary to become a professional mountaineer and set off to conquer the highest peaks despite the risk of avalanches. This getaway, which was supposed to last only a few days, gradually becomes his way of life.
Neither his mother (Martine Chevallier), nor his brother (Laurent Poitrenaux), nor his son (Andranic Manet) will be able to convince Pierre, who has befriended Léa (Louise Bourgoin), head of the alpine restaurant, to return to civilization. And then one day, Pierre discovers strange reddish gleams, sort of larval creatures, which move slowly between the strata of stone and ice – according to effective special effects.
Like his not very talkative character, Thomas Salvador’s screenplay does not get lost in great explanations and preserves its mysteries until the end, thus giving the film its enigmatic charm and hypnotic beauty. In fact, the filmmaker, passionate about heights since adolescence and who dreamed of making a film with mountaineer Patrick Berhault (1957-2004), lets nature speak for itself.
At times taking on the appearance of a documentary on mountaineering, where the man seems very small in the immensity with shades of blue, gray and white, the film unfolds in a series of very wide shots where the the blowing of the wind on the eternal snows, the sliding of the crumbling glaciers and the roar of the collapsing rocks offer a perfect counterpoint to the bewitching soundtrack of Chloé Thévenin.
When the camera of Alexis Kavyrchine, winner of the César for best photography for Goodbye idiots, by Albert Dupontel, executive close to Salvador, whose magnetic and penetrating gaze also evokes that of Dupontel, the character seems petrified by the majesty of the elements that surround him. Having fled to the mountains to recharge his batteries, Pierre discovers there the scars left by man over time. In doing so, he testifies to the valiant fight of nature for its survival.
If Pierre manages to literally become one with the mountain, as if the latter wanted to transmit his ancestral knowledge to him, he will have to choose between returning to his fellow men or letting nature swallow him up. Or, again, serve as an intermediary between it and the human. One thing is certain, Pierre will be forever transformed by this disconcerting meeting at the top.