Having confined themselves to the countryside with their two young children in the midst of a pandemic, Robin Aubert (At the origin of a cry, The hungry) and Julie Roy (the series Nomads And The knights) found themselves deprived of the presence of their parents. The only contact they had with the news, like the majority of Quebecers, was the press briefings of the Legault government. The same ones where deaths linked to COVID-19 were counted every day. The very ones where we followed the evolution of the massacre in the CHSLDs.
“We weren’t aware of that when we did it, but now we can say that it’s our way of communicating what was happening at the time,” says the screenwriter. It’s like a catharsis, a relief, to have created a character who is going through this situation, but who is looking for ways to get out of his room. It did us good to bring this character to life. »
Accustomed to working separately, to commenting on each other’s work in complete transparency, the director and screenwriter found it natural to write together You’ll never know, a title borrowed from a BB success. After all, as Robin Aubert recalled during the meeting, Nathalie Roy, at that time Minister of Culture, had asked artists to reinvent themselves…
“When you know the other person that well, there is no bullshit. When I send a passage to Julie and she tells me it’s good, there’s no discomfort either, confides the filmmaker. It happened naturally, with pleasure. This film was not planned; I already had a script ready for submission. I also didn’t plan to work with Étienne Hansez, who produces Sophie Dupuis’ films. The filming was extraordinary, as if the film already existed in a kind of timeless world. He was there, he imposed himself on us, then he was done. We wake up, we sit here, and then we talk about this movie. »
Even if the pandemic is not that long ago, seeing Paul Vincent (Martin Naud), resident of a CHSLD, receiving a visit from staff members wearing masks, visors and protective uniforms gives the impression of observing a scene belonging to in a time long gone or in the near future.
In fact, with its long fixed shots, its slow tracking shots, its industrial soundtrack, You’ll never know looks like an anticipation drama offering an alarming vision of a dehumanized society.
“I come from art history,” explains Julie Roy. Sometimes I like to think about the container before the content, then vice versa. The concept was to stay in the room and when you leave the room, suddenly the universe turns upside down. We did not impose rules on ourselves, but principles that went with the subject and what we wanted to say, to stay with this thought, not to deviate from it. »
“Writing means talking a lot, thinking, philosophizing,” continues Robin Aubert. In this case, the questions I asked myself were how to choreograph emptiness and time on screen, how to express solitude. I knew that I would impose a kind of strict list on myself from which not to deviate, because I, as a screenwriter, have a tendency to deviate. »
This is not a social film
The filmmaker reveals that over the years he has become a fan of contemplative cinema. Apart from a small touch of magical realism and a few Hitchcockian references in the last act, we find in You’ll never know a form of homage to the films of Béla Tarr, Andreï Tarkovsky, Roy Andersson and, above all, Chantal Akerman. More particularly Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Brusselswhere we follow the alienating daily life of a housewife.
“You can’t take the movie buff out of the filmmaker,” says the director. This is perhaps my film with the most winks, even though it’s supposed to be a social film. When you decide to film someone in a room in a CHSLD and you talk about loneliness, it’s certain that the system takes the blame because it puts you in the face where are we go and we know that it won’t change. Ultimately, it’s a love story. »
It’s important to say that we didn’t want to make a social film. Despite the subject matter, that was never our intention. There is no sarcasm or irony, but there is candor and love. There is a romantic side to Kaurismäki and the love of the characters that Robin also brought.
Julie Roy, screenwriter
With the Finnish filmmaker, Robin Aubert shares a love for non-actors. Having been unable to offer the role to Jean Lapointe for health reasons, the director turned to Martin Naud, a former police officer with no acting experience. He also invited Jean-Marie Lapointe, son, to join the cast. of Jean, so that both can together pay a last tribute to the great actor who died in November 2022.
“It did me good as a filmmaker, and even as an actor, to work with a non-actor. There is a truth and a simplicity that we tend to lose with technique, time, experience. Martin, a gentleman, knew everyone’s name and was respectful of everyone on set. He revealed a part of himself that we, actors, tend to put in our voice, in our mannerisms. He just had his truth and when you film the truth, inevitably, you want to stay with the truth for a long time, you don’t want to cut because that’s also what loneliness is. It’s not hip, it’s not sales, but the parameters we gave ourselves and the fact of working with someone conceptual like Julie allowed me to stay within my concept throughout. By making this film, I learned a lot about my job,” concludes Robin Aubert.