Dir. Sandrine Bonnaire,
France, 2007, 85 mins
Cast: Sabine Bonnaire
Review by Kevin Gill
There's a telling moment in this French documentary
when the mother of a 30-year-old autistic man, Olivier, gives
an interview to the camera. She knows her son's terrible illness,
and the socially-removed, zombie-like existence if fosters,
is not her fault – but the guilt, she says, is with her
every day. It is this most complex and often irrational emotion
that, you can't help but feel, has driven the award-winning
French actress Sandrine Bonnaire to make this incredibly moving
and intelligent portrait of her autistic sister Sabine.
While the beautiful sibling behind the camera has fulfilled
a dream, starring for such distinguished directors as Claude
Chabrol, Jacques Rivette and Agnes Varda, her subject has
endured a nightmare. Under autism's devastating spell and
prone to violent behaviour and self harm (as Bonnaire tells
us in an early voiceover), Sabine was sectioned at the
age of 28. After five harrowing years at a psychological
institution, Sabine's family finally found an alternative – a specialist home
for autism sufferers in rural France. It is here, five years
into Sabine's rehabilitation, where Bonnaire shoots the footage
that comprises the lion's share of her film.
Filming Sabine in unflinching long takes, often in extreme
close-up, Bonnaire's is a 'warts and all' portrait if ever
there was one. From the outset it is clear to see that Sabine's
condition is extremely serious. She is a large woman with
a hunched posture. Her movements are very sluggish and uncertain.
Her brow is constantly furrowed with agitation, and her mouth,
seemingly fixed open, secretes saliva uncontrollably. As
Bonnaire shoots Sabine going about her daily routines and
activities, we witness flashes of her violent, anti-social
behaviour. On one occasion, she jabs one of her carers with
a fork and has to be restrained. On another, she screams
an obscenity at a cashier, only to realise her indiscretion
and immediately apologise.
Sabine's means of expression, however, are
not limited to this kind of “acting up” (as described
by her mentor). She can speak clearly and at a steady pace,
so we are able to learn a great deal about her feelings. In
one scene, she explains how she locks away precious objects
for fear of damaging them. In another heart-rending interview,
she talks about her wish to rear children. On countless occasions,
she desperately asks her sister if she's going to leave,
knowing that that time will eventually come. Throughout the
film, the true tragedy of Sabine's condition surfaces again
and again: it puts conditions on unconditional love.
Bonnaire combines this newly-shot footage
of Sabine with a number of home video snippets from her childhood
and teenage years. As the film cuts back and forth between
the present day Sabine and a pretty, confident, active and
visibly happy girl, the severe escalation of her illness becomes
acutely apparent. Bonnaire's partial, more universal aim is
to highlight the inadequacies of the care system for the autistic – she
makes a compelling case against institutionalisation and for
more special facilities like Sabine's current home. More significantly
though, the archive footage primes the viewer for the closing
stage of Bonnaire's 'documentary therapy', where she fixes
the camera on Sabine as she watches her teenage self taking
a trip to her beloved New York with Sandrine. Sabine claims
tears of joy as she wails without restraint, but the tears
soon turn to smiles and laughter: you sense she is empowered
by the memory of her former self. This intense, emotional scene
provides the defining moment of this most personal, dutiful
film – at once utterly heartbreaking, yet profoundly
hopeful.
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