previously published on Cineuropa
Filming one's own family members in non-scripted, plausible situations seems like an easy, almost amateurish task. However, the difficult part is to elevate the material above the level of the simple home video so it can tell a story or open up a topic that might seem unimportant. In his directorial debut April in France, David Boaretto, best known for his work as an executive producer, has managed to do just that. Although the documentary premiered with little fanfare at last year’s edition of the Saint Louis International Film Festival, it is picking up pace on the festival circuit this year, with bookings at the Thessaloniki Documentary Festival, ZagrebDox, the Transylvania International Film Festival, Golden Apricot and, most recently, at European Film Festival Palić, where it was shown in the New European Documentary Film sidebar.
The titular subject is the filmmaker’s own daughter who moves from London to Paris with her father for undisclosed reasons. Just at that moment, and while the mischievous girl is still getting acquainted with the French language, culture and way of life, the COVID-19 pandemic sets in and a strict lockdown is imposed, making her transition to this new life even harder. Once travel restrictions are lifted, the duo moves to the village of Labastide-d’Armagnac in the southwest of France to which they are connected via family ties.
At first, the place seems almost empty and abandoned, and the girl feels even lonelier as a result. As a sort of coping mechanism, she invents her own “kingdom”. Then she meets other inhabitants, gets involved in conversations with them and in their activities, and both the imaginary and the real world start melting together. In this world, one of her heroes is her late grandfather, a painter and an important and beloved village figure, with whom April starts to feel strongly connected despite never having met him…
Growing up often means facing the real world and the challenges it presents, and for April, that confrontation sometimes seems as though it might be too much. It is also implied that raising a child during such special circumstances may be a challenge for her father, but Boaretto does the ethical and smart thing to stay focused on his daughter as a subject and not put himself in the spotlight. He opts for an observational approach and usually refrains from commenting, stepping in only when it is absolutely necessary and doing so only with his voice off screen.
Boaretto also shows that he is in full control of his film. He serves as his own cinematographer who keenly but unobtrusively follows his subject (the camera gets smoother and more natural as April loosens up and starts making friends with the grown-ups in the village), but also captures the moody landscape in natural light. As an editor, however, he keeps the runtime in the 70-minute range, selecting only the best and most significant material and making sure the documentary doesn't overstay its welcome. The discretely designed audio landscape is further filled with Sacha Lounis' original music that always hits the right mood. In the end, April in France works both on a personal level for the filmmaker and his subject, as well as on a wider psychological and even philosophical plane for the way in which it captures the reality and the emotional picture of growing up and facing the world.