In premise, Sophie Goyette's touching, eerily prescient, short film, La Futur Proche seems to be a treatise on the pain of loss. The story is that of a man learning of his mother's passing while working at a small French-Canadian airline.
Rather than dote on the nature of grief, his external reaction is almost non-existent. He goes through his day, taking flights and sitting in the lunchroom as per usual, rarely engaging his colleagues, which seems to be his status quo.
Amidst his voiceovers, we learn of a fractured relationship with his mother that stemmed from an erratic childhood. Only seeing her sporadically throughout the year when holidays obligate him to do so, he expresses ambivalence about her death, which also bleeds into his daily life and opinion of those around him.
Where Goyette's touching, impressionist short film really soars is within the skies, with aerial shots giving some distanced perspective on the world below. One of our protagonist's clients sums it up quite clearly by pointing out that her favourite part of skydiving is the silence and peace she feels when she first jumps out of the plane. It's only when she gets close enough to the land that the anxiety of the every day returns.
From high above the land and outside of the steady drone of social expectation and performance, the world looks beautiful. Beyond grief, the real observation here is that, while indicative of a refusal to accept the world as it is, there is a peace in isolation and distance. It's something that only outsiders can truly appreciate and understand, but it's depicted here with utmost sagacity and touching introspection
(Telefilm)Rather than dote on the nature of grief, his external reaction is almost non-existent. He goes through his day, taking flights and sitting in the lunchroom as per usual, rarely engaging his colleagues, which seems to be his status quo.
Amidst his voiceovers, we learn of a fractured relationship with his mother that stemmed from an erratic childhood. Only seeing her sporadically throughout the year when holidays obligate him to do so, he expresses ambivalence about her death, which also bleeds into his daily life and opinion of those around him.
Where Goyette's touching, impressionist short film really soars is within the skies, with aerial shots giving some distanced perspective on the world below. One of our protagonist's clients sums it up quite clearly by pointing out that her favourite part of skydiving is the silence and peace she feels when she first jumps out of the plane. It's only when she gets close enough to the land that the anxiety of the every day returns.
From high above the land and outside of the steady drone of social expectation and performance, the world looks beautiful. Beyond grief, the real observation here is that, while indicative of a refusal to accept the world as it is, there is a peace in isolation and distance. It's something that only outsiders can truly appreciate and understand, but it's depicted here with utmost sagacity and touching introspection
