Sleeping Longing

I was 24 when my father died on April 23th, 2015. It took me four years to complete this film. Not a coincidence that four years is also the duration of my grief. I fought with my film (and myself) because I thought I had to take a step back and separate myself from the story in order to see more clearly. In the end, I did the exact opposite. I understood I needed to be the closest possible to my character and finally found peace in accepting the autobiographical film I was making. Almost every detail is true. Most importantly for me, the messages are actual voicemails from my dad that I found on my phone. Making the film, I was interested in the memory of my father’s voice as a painful and comforting obsession. I wanted to explore how the random lightness of his messages would contrast with the seriousness of mourning - creating an emotional gap.

Although I experienced some intense events like the heartbreaking speeches at the funerals or the trauma of holding my father’s hand when he died, I did not show those scenes in my film and chose to look at the in-between moments: the driving, the eating, the preparation, the condolences calls, the before and after the funeral. Those moments formed a story made of ellipses where I tell a traumatic and fragmented story which encapsulates the essence of my grief. Moving through these vignettes we experience the character’s denial through those missing parts.

I wanted to express in a simple manner how I felt a gap between my feelings and my needs. Need for a satisfying steak and fries, need for silence, need for a good swim and more mysteriously for me, need for sex. I did not understand what was going on then - neither did my girlfriend.