It Burns

This film is a very personal one. When I was young, I lost a cousin, which impacted my childhood. Six years later, two other young family members died, and again six years later, in the summer of 2012, I endured the most dreadful deaths like a curse reaping through my life.

My cousin went missing in Nepal during the pre-production of my short film, SHIMI (2012). Unfortunately, we could do nothing more than hope. As we started shooting, I received the heart-wrenching news that they found her decapitated body.

During the post-production of SHIMI, my best friend killed himself. It was a stark shift from dealing with a murder to confronting the aftermath of suicide. The latter felt like a car crashed into my face compared to the five previous deaths. Grief following a suicide feels dark and complex. It’s more intense and everlasting. You struggle with social and emotional questions that can make your grief overwhelming and isolating. You risk becoming trapped in an endless loop of shock, guilt, anger, and despair. Each emotion is inextricably intertwined with dreadful numbness. That is why I’d like to show the horror of grief. A subject often shrouded in silence and taboo. Through this film, I hope to initiate a dialogue about suicide and its profound impact.

The film shows the extreme form of loss and not being able to let go. Irène, the main character, remains in denial. A denial that makes her relive her trauma.

With this visual poem, I want to show that everyone walks their unique path of grief. It's a deeply personal and individual process. Simultaneously, I hope for a conclusion in my personal life.

An ode not only to mine but to everyone’s deceased loved ones.