Between bars and trailers, the friendship of Kim and Billy, both fairground workers, takes shape within a rough and joyful masculinity, filled with laughter, complicity, and excess. A world of men where arm-wrestling matches coexist with discreet moments of confidences. That summer, something shifts, and Kim begins to dream of elsewhere.

The Sparkle unfolds in a direct cinema approach. Shot in two phases, the project had to reinvent itself during the second shoot. The dismissal of Billy — a close friend and supporting character — disrupted the film’s original balance. A new narrative thread naturally emerged, guided by life itself. The camera, quietly observant, follows Kim in his daily routines: playing, joking, doubting, gently stitching up a stuffed toy, tending to the fairground machines and his customers, and above all, nurturing a secret, unexpected world.

Kim collects rocks. Like a child marveling at his treasures, he assigns them an intimate value. "It’s the value you give it that matters" he says. The editing mirrors this inner tension — between strength and tenderness, between festivity and withdrawal — to reveal a nuanced portrait of a man who continually surprises the audience.

Knowing how to let go is a demanding gesture. Editing is also the art of choosing what to leave behind. The filmmaker and her editor Anouk Deschênes made the decision to cut certain explanatory scenes, including a dark, rather spectacular childhood memory that offered a key to Kim’s personality but disrupted the film’s emotional coherence. It’s also this choice that allows us to remain so close to Kim — to be with him, without the need for explanation.

In one of the film’s most beautiful scenes, on a beach at dusk, bathed in bluish light, Kim, flashlight in hand, searches for his precious stones like an adventurer. For a fleeting moment, he becomes the quiet hero of his own world — a world apart, made of details, silence, and poetry.
 

Emma Bertin
Film editor

Presented in collaboration with