Synopsis
Remember America. Remember the cities, the houses, all the people, the arrivals, the departures, the children coming, the children leaving, death, life, movement, speech. Remember the deep inner sigh of everything that lives in America. Bend down. Pick up what others have lost from life. And do something with it…
A word from Tënk
The film begins like this: a barn is mounted on wheels, hoisted, pushed. It is moved. And throughout the film, in a way, it will be a question of movement—movement of a dream, of the imagination, of an America destined to fragment. It will be about a country that—today more than ever—remains impossible to capture in a single image or a few words. If telling America’s story is a futile endeavor, if portraying it is absurd, des Pallières brings forth from the unspeakable stories to imagine, lights and shadows to hold on to. Interweaving archival images with texts on black panels, the film becomes text, poem, memory. A fictional journal, the “I” through which the film speaks becomes at once everyone’s and no one’s; America becomes a multiple country, a lost country. A country haunted by its ghosts, its myths, and its lies, which des Pallières evokes like a cinema chiromancer, like a medium of images.
Charlotte Lehoux
Programmer
