Land of the Deaf

To make a film like this, Philibert (who had already made La Ville Louvre (Louvre City)) had no hesitation in taking time to visit deaf people, children in institutions where they learn to speak, teenagers in their learning centres, adults in their workplaces. He established a genuine relationship of trust with them, which is clearly apparent on screen, the closeness of the camera, the discretion of the frame, the modesty of the presence you feel behind the lens and the filmmaker’s capacity for empathy. So much so that after the screening, you almost want to learn sign language, as Philibert himself did. It is a beautiful language. Particularly in terms of the expressiveness and visual attention it requires, a genuine face-to-face encounter and full-frontal openness. It is gestural, using analogies and an economy all of its own. This is what a sign language teacher, who is deaf himself, explains. Bubbling with humour, he also recounts his childhood at the cinema. Miming westerns, like Chaplin in The Pilgrim mimics the fight between David and Goliath. He explains that sign language is different in France, Belgium and the United States. But it is so much closer than the spoken language that, after a few hours together, a deaf Chinese person can understand a deaf French person. With this in mind, there is no surprise when the teacher adds that he feels sorry for hearing people. (Edouard Waintrop; Libération)