Morelia International Film Festival

It's perhaps unsurprising that Philibert's documentaries delve into epistemology, ontology, psychology, language and identity; his father Michel -whose weekly film club screenings of Bergman, Dreyer, Bresson et al would greatly influence his son's life- was a professor of philosophy, while Nicolas himself graduated in philosophy. But it's the compassion, clarity and poetic resonance of his work that take it far beyond the academic; though his latest film -Back to Normandy (Retour en Normandie) (2007)- is arguably his most richly phil­osophical, multi­layered work to date, it's also notable for its extraordinary subtlety, delicacy and humanity.

On the surface, at least, the new film -his first foray into confessional 'first­person' cinema- has a simple premise: Philibert revisits rural Normandy to catch up with old acquaintances three decades after he first met them. At that time, he had been working as a young assistant director to René Allio, seeking out and interviewing local people in the hope of casting them as non­professional actors in Allio's Moi, Pierre Rivière, ayant égorgé ma mere, ma soeur et mon frère (1973), a film about a horrendous murder committed in that particular corner of Normandy back in the 1830s. This history ensures that Philibert's documentary is not quite as straight­ forward as it might first appear; more than mere reminiscence, it's clearly about the relationship between life and film. But it is also about the effects of time's passing; language and memory; crime and punishment; mental health and responsibility; documentation and storytelling. In which regard it is to some degree a summation of many of the themes that have preoccupied Philibert in his career to date.

I sincerely hope that, in stressing the thematic richness and philosophical sophistication of Philibert's work, I have not made his films sound in any way obscure, dull or difficult. To the contrary, they are entertaining, charming, lucid and remarkably accessible. One should also emphasize that they are wholly cinematic in their means of expression. The discreetly elegant images, the measured pacing, the meticulous attention to sound, and the eloquent juxtapositions achieved in the editing suite are all proof of how much loving care Philibert invests in the craft of filmmaking. Furthermore, the unusual level of intimacy he manages to achieve with his subjects as he films them going about their daily lives is the result of similarly painstaking research and preparation even before shooting starts. The profoundly human compassion that fuels the films is evident in his every frame.

Whether concerning himself with schoolkids and teachers, museum workers, the staff and patients of a psychiatric clinic, deaf people or farming folk, Philibert always respects his subjects' dignity. At the same time, while providing astute insights into lives that may be very different from our own, he never preaches or pontificates; indeed, even when dealing with fundamental philosophical questions -what does it mean to be happy, or sane, or alone, or alive?- he very often sees an amusing side to life. Moreover, he is wonderfully alert to the strange, the incongruous and the unexpected; he is especially good at finding and showing us beauty in the most unlikely places. He is, in short, a master filmmaker, and his work should not be missed by anyone who claims to take contemporary cinema at all seriously.

by Geoff Andrew