To find light, we must first journey through the darkness. So begins Elise Simard's My Little Underground, a sombre and beautiful autobiographical story that follows a young girl's bus ride home in winter. Drifting between real and imagined events in her past and present, the girl travels towards some semblance, however complex and uncertain, of self-discovery and rebirth. Using a mix of time-lapse photography with ink and pastels, Simard creates a haunting, compassionate exploration of the pain and fragility of addiction and existence. Acknowledging the difficulties of beginning anew, the girl nevertheless clings to the hope and belief that love, whatever its form, will return and breathe new possibilities into a life momentarily gone astray.
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(narrator):
We begin in darkness.
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We let it come upon us.
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For at last,
this is how we see the light.
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(seagull squawking)
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When all ceases to matter...
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new places unfold.
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Simple.
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Kinder.
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(distant laughter)
(shouting)
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Soon, you will belong.
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(wings flapping)
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(bird singing)
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(soft music)
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There are nights
when nothing opens.
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You have to go further...
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and further.
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And then perhaps...
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maybe...
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love will return.
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In another form...
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(bird screaming)
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In another pattern.
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(women): When the gloom falls,
we stay still.
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There...
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(woman): You have been so good.
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(narrator): Have I?
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Really?
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(soft music)
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(engine roaring)
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(steady drumming)
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(leaves rustling)
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(engine roaring)
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(bus stopping, then leaving)
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(whispering): Sometimes
you can\'t feel it.
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(keys jingling)
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(door unlocking)
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(creaking floorboards)
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(liquid pouring)
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(utensil clinking)
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Sometimes you can feel it.
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Everything that you hear,
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everything that you see...
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(women): Existing just for you.
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(woman): I love you.
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And I won\'t let you die.
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Closed Captioning:
CNST, Montreal
