Annecy main comoetition contender “Death Does Not Exist” is a political film. And Quebec director Félix Dufour-Laperrière isn’t afraid to admit it.
“There’s urgency to redistribute wealth. There’s urgency to keep this world decent. I’m a father of two: a middle-class white man with a beautiful family, and one of my deepest desires is that my kids grow up in a livable world. On the other hand, there’s a legitimate anger about the state of the world that needs to be addressed. Mine and yours, and obviously our American neighbors,” he tells Variety about his latest animated feature.
“The film comes from all these contradictions. It’s crucial to take care of what you love, but it’s not sufficient when we have a collective responsibility toward the world. It’s a tragic tale about violence, but also about commitment, convictions, loyalty and connections.”
In “Death Does Not Exist” – which premiered in Cannes Directors’ Fortnight – an idealistic girl, Hélène, flees to the forest after a botched armed attack on an uber-wealthy family. Her comrades are gone, but visions of one of them, Manon, continue to haunt her. Just like her personal and political choices.
“I wanted to focus on her paradoxical loyalty towards her moral beliefs, friendship and love. And to show direct consequences of violence: for those who suffer from it and for those who commit it,” notes Dufour-Laperrière.
As Hélène ventures deeper and deeper into wild nature, not unlike Tarkovsky’s “The Zone” – “Stalker’ is one of my fetish films” – she makes a “Faustian pact” with Manon.
“It’s very dense at the beginning and very dense at the end, and there’s a more reflexive moment in the middle. In my eyes, there’s a reality to it even if it’s dreamlike. They witness their desires coming to life. Conscious ones, like political and social upheavals, but also unconscious desire of starting something new.”
He adds: “In the realm of animation, everything is real.”
“It has been said before: form IS political. The way you look at things and people, it is political. A still drawing works, but it’s obvious: a moving image is unstable and evolving. I like the idea that in animation, you can embody concepts and feelings, but it’s all in movement. You can only grasp a part of it.”
His protagonist, while not exactly your usual hero and fueled by “tragic courage,” gets to confront some of the people she’s been rallying against.
“Visually, they share the same context, the same color. But they also share some truths. I have mixed feelings towards what these kids are doing, but it says something about their convictions and their beliefs. I’m certainly not encouraging acts of violence or excusing them, but violence exists. Also, the word is being confiscated – by a minority. And those who get their part confiscated cannot just let it go.”
At first, his film was much darker.
“It was a very, very fatalistic tale. Later, I tried to open it up a bit to give more space to life, connections. I did try to be honest with my own experiences and beliefs while writing it. I’m a pessimistic guy, but I love life,” he admits.
In 2021, Dufour-Laperrière was awarded at Annecy for “Archipelago.” But with its political flair, “Death Does Not Exist” wasn’t exactly an easy sell.
“We’re lucky to have pretty strong public funding in Quebec and Canada. And once it’s funded, we go all in. That’s the reason why I produced it myself, with my brother Nicolas [for Embuscade Films]. To own the production means to put all the money on screen.”
Emmanuel-Alain Raynal (Miyu Productions) and Pierre Baussaron (Miyu Distribution) are also on board, alongside Best Friend Forever and UFO Distribution.
“With our partners, we all know that we won’t get rich selling this film. But it will be a fun ride.”
Fun and serious, he underlines.
“In adult animation, we’re all adults – we should be able to talk about the world and the things that move us. Being an adult is also about trying to name the depth of our shared experience and films, in my view, should do that as well. When my kids ask why I make them, I say: ‘It’s a way to live my life.’ It’s a beautiful way,” he says.
“Without wanting to sound pretentious, for me, art is a serious matter.”
