Is the cinema screen the mirror of the soul of the filmmakers, or of the spectators? No doubt a bit of both, and that’s why the films reveal as much about the values, torments and passions of artisans as about those of the society from which they emerge. As part of the summer series In Therapy: Quebec Cinema, The duty gives the opportunity to eight psychologists to lend themselves to the game of the therapeutic session, with a local film of their choice for the patient. This week, cries, whispers and silences in Just the end of the world (2016), by Xavier Dolan.
How to reconnect with your family after 10 years of absence? And how, above all, tell him that death will soon take you away? This is the dilemma of Louis (the late Gaspard Ulliel), a famous young playwright who cut ties with the modest, suburban environment in which he grew up. If the return of the prodigal son delights his mother (Nathalie Baye) and his younger sister, Suzanne (Léa Seydoux), it is different for the eldest, Antoine (Vincent Cassel), displaying an open and invasive hostility, to the great despair of his spouse, Catherine (Marion Cotillard), a shy and submissive woman.
The circumstances of his arrival are not clear to those around him, and are very likely to remain so, as this man whose job is to juggle with words cannot find them to express what is eating away at him from within. Because between the euphoria of some and the anger of others, Louis is still looking for his place within this dysfunctional clan, prisoner of his silence, his anxieties, and his (many) childhood wounds.
Just the end of the worldthe sixth feature film by Xavier Dolan, after his sensational debut in 2009 with I killed my mothersigned his second adaptation of a theatrical work after Tom at the farm (2013), by Michel-Marc Bouchard. He is inspired here by the French playwright Jean-Luc Lagarce, whose play, written in 1990 and largely autobiographical, was marked by the ravages of AIDS. The filmmaker, surrounding himself with big stars from France, anchored the story in an indefinite place (the filming took place partly in Laval), and a more or less close time. For this second analysis, The duty spoke with Valérie Bourgeois-Guérin, professor of psychology at UQAM and clinical psychologist.
How did you feel during the first viewing of
I was struck by the tension, and above all by the depth of the unsaid, which took up more space than what was said. It’s a strange, and a little nerve-wracking, feeling to see someone trying to name something, but being unable to speak. That a work presents such complex family relationships by giving a lot of importance to silences, I found it marvelous. The central question is that of the end of life, of the illness with a fatal outcome – never specified in the film – a theme not very often addressed. My end-of-life or grieving patients often have the impression that things are going to get better because we are going through a trial; the film shows that this is not always the case.
Isn’t developing a scenario to announce news of this magnitude to your family always doomed to failure?
Louis shows a real desire to make peace with part of his story, but the film illustrates very well that the others are not at the same point as him. His mother and his sister bring him back to his former role, and no one is able to welcome him into what he has become, we even feel a closure. Even his success disturbs, and we see the break, the change of status, except for his sister, who admires him. Deep down, many suspect the real reason for his coming, but they don’t want to hear it.
Surprisingly, his best ally is his sister-in-law, whom he did not know. Catherine does not install him in a pre-established role, and seems more open to welcoming him for what he is. We have the impression that she grasps a lot of things, even if their exchanges are a matter of gossip, and she manages to establish a real bond, no doubt because unlike the others, she is not just locked up in anger. What she says, and what she doesn’t say, resonates very strongly with him.
It should also be emphasized that all the actors knew how to play silence with great depth, without it being caricatural. Silences often sound a little out of tune in movies, or are set up too deliberately, but that’s not the case here.
Don’t you find Antoine’s anger hard to grasp? Jealousy? Homophobia?
This character remains obscure, he annoys me, and that’s why I find him interesting. This misunderstanding allows our imagination to provide us with answers. We can just as easily perceive a desire in the face of Louis, or a refusal of the order of finitude: he doubts what his brother wants to announce, but finds it too hard, too heavy, which provokes his anger. We can also see an attempt to protect his sister – it’s very badly done, I agree! – by making sure that Louis leaves as soon as possible to prevent her from understanding. It’s a defense against overflowing emotions, but it’s not unusual behavior.
Do you integrate cinema into your practice? And if so, would this film find a place there?
I rarely recommend movies. I’m interested in what my patients have seen, what it brings them, how they interpret it. Imposing what inspired me would be like imposing my vision of the world on them. If I chose Just the end of the world, it would be distressing for many people, and very soothing for others. In several films, goodbyes are perfect. Not here. Grieving people can identify with this imperfection.
Faced with a situation like this of Louis, between speaking or being silent, which is preferable?
We have to see for whom it is preferable. For the person at the end of life, would it do him any good? If so, we can then see if the relatives are able to hear this kind of thing, accompany them, so that the person at the end of life can feel that his word has been released. From my point of view as a psychologist, if she wants to do it, she will probably be a little calmer. That being said, I see people who don’t want to say it, and for whom it would be more painful, for example because those around them are absolutely not ready to hear it. As a psychologist, as a caregiver, even in palliative care, you have to be able to take a step back and tell yourself that for each person, depending on their family dynamics, if you think it’s better not to say it, it’s is absolutely correct. A forced speech will only increase the suffering.