Synopsis
Simon is living with an inoperable brain tumor that casts a shadow over his remaining days. The time for major decisions is approaching. Supported by his partner Marianne, Simon stands at the threshold of two worlds—fragile, lucid, fully present to everything around him. Filmed almost entirely at night and in black and white, the documentary captures their final summer together.
A word from Tënk
For a feature film, Simon & Marianne is short—very short. Barely over an hour. And yet, within this brief span of time, an entire life unfolds, with all the delicacy that Pier-Luc Latulippe and Martin Fournier, masters of profoundly sensitive documentary filmmaking, have accustomed us to. After the remarkable Manoir (2015) and Dehors Serge dehors (2021), they return to capture the absolute intimacy of two people experiencing some of the most difficult moments of their relationship—or of human existence itself.
Writer Simon Roy suffers from an inoperable brain tumor. With his devoted partner Marianne, he tries to come to terms with the approaching end, the loss of his abilities and bearings, his body gradually failing as his mental faculties decline. Death. The after, and perhaps, the beyond—who knows? In a dusky light that is both enveloping and soothing (almost the entire film was shot at night), Simon and Marianne discover together, with heartbreaking force and extraordinary serenity despite the sadness, what truly constitutes their unshakeable love. Quiet nighttime walks, whispered secrets and dreams, idle moments and caresses in the grass, afternoon naps, unanswered questions, grief barely contained by fathomless tenderness, hobbies in the garage, words of love, gardening, milkshakes, home haircuts, hugs, inevitable calls to family and friends, wind in the trees.
With the same delicate sensitivity and discreet patience with which they approached the formerly institutionalized subjects of Manoir and the family affected by actor Serge Thériault’s severe depression in Dehors Serge dehors, the filmmakers alternate between wide shots and extreme close-ups, showing immense respect despite the extraordinarily private nature of what they film. And Simon and Marianne confide in one another, forgetting the cameras so near, with a candor and lucidity that are as deeply moving as they are beautiful. Vertiginous and profoundly human, this is an irreplaceable film—struck by the sublime, just like the love that binds Marianne to Simon.
Claire Valade
Critic and programmer
