THE “WORLD’S” OPINION – NOT TO BE MISSED
Magician of reality, there is no better way to describe the work of Eléonore Saintagnan, filmmaker and visual artist born in 1979 in Paris. From the natural setting of a Breton campsite, overlooking Lake Guerlédan (Morbihan), Camping du Lac builds little by little a new world that is not quite real, but not out of reach either. You just have to believe it, and the director’s aesthetic choices work towards it: her voice-over immediately takes us into the realm of confidence – “A funny story happened to me…” –, the superimpositions of images blur the lines and the sound editing transforms a traditional dance into an electrifying electro rite.
Where are we ? In the cinema mixing the extra and the ordinary, using the metaphor of the artificial body of water to suggest two stories: one emerged, in the company of a small community of inhabitants who live all year round in the mobile homes; the other nestled in the depths, with the supposed presence of an enormous beast, a sort of Breton Loch Ness, which everyone watches for, fears and venerates.
A young woman, Eléonore (Eléonore Saintagnan), rides ” to the west “ on a small Breton road, when her car breaks down. And hop, to the garage who will have to wait a few days before receiving the replacement part. And hop, direction the campsite, where the locals believe they know that one of the cabins is still free. The astonishing Eléonore settles there temporarily, explores the site with a sound amplifier.
Neighborhood links
She meets a handful of inhabitants, real or invented characters who seem to live on the margins. Except that here the neighborhood ties are placed at the center: there is this thirty-something car enthusiast who we visit for tattoo sessions; this lady who, every day, calls the little one across the street for snack; this old American from Ohio (the musician Wayne Standley), clinging to his folk guitar and the memory of his daughter (the artist Rosemary Standley, Wayne’s daughter), who from his veranda sings his blues and acts as a radio local ; this mother (Anna Turluc’h) raising her child alone, surrounded by a few chickens who will fill the pot.
And in the middle of this broth, a few pinches of fiction. The enormous beast that fishermen dream of capturing would have as its ancestor the fish (and companion) of Saint Corentin, who was also a hermit. According to legend, Saint Corentin found his friend every day in the clear waters of a stream, fed on a small piece of his flesh, before the animal miraculously reconstituted itself. Until the day he had to flee, to escape the violence of men.
You have 23.48% of this article left to read. The rest is reserved for subscribers.