30/09/2024 - Mary Jimenez and Bénédicte Lienard’s film pores over the scars left by the conflict which tore Peru apart for over 20 years homing in on a conveyor of souls and summoning ghosts to explore society

"How I’d love to be back in that bar, listening to your lies, far away from the truth”. Such stories are told to protect us from history or, sometimes, in order to expose it. Saor is returning home to the heart of the Amazon but first and foremost to Valentina whom he loved. Her home isn’t just any old place, it’s an area she ran away from, a past full of violence, marked by the terrorism and homophobia which prevented her from being her true self and which scarred her body forever. In their previous film, By the Name of Tania [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Mary Jimenez, Bénédicte Lié…
film profile], Mary Jimenez and Bénédicte Lienard had already put forth powerful testimonies, giving a voice back to the unheard victims of the gold mines region in Peru. They’d already oscillated between fiction and documentary, creating a space for a story and using the senses to explore the memories evoked in its narration. And it’s that same powerful voice that we find in Fuga [+see also:
interview: Bénédicte Lienard and Mary …
film profile], screened in the Namur International French Film Festival’s Official Competition, accompanying us down the various meanders of memory.

Saor travels upriver to return Valentina’s remains, but also to re-connect with her. Bringing back her body also means travelling back into his transgender lover’s past, trying to understand her story, crossing paths with the people she rubbed shoulders with before her exile. Others who knew her differently, under another identity and another destiny. Over the course of his journey, Soar hears, listens and gathers testimonies, he’s the one who talks but he also allows others to speak, giving rise to countless intimate tales which speak of homophobia, fear, shame and the explosion of terrorism. The film’s hybrid form combines non-professional actors who share their own experiences, with extreme cinematography courtesy of the location and Saor’s nigh-on legendary stature. As the noose tightens around his lover’s terrifying past, Saor plunges back into specific memories, moments of happiness which shed new light on the survival instinct which drove Valentina to do the worst.

Fuga documents the barbaric, homophobic violence holding back the entire community and explores the trauma suffered by a population which hides former terrorists who haven’t even repented among its ranks. Rather than depicting their acts, the film summons or mentions them. The story Saor tells about torture speaks louder than a thousand pictures. This observation of men’s cruelty (through the story itself or through cock fights) and of the sensuality of nature leaves a lasting impression. Thanks to the film’s mise-en-scène, the muffled sounds of life skilfully rendered by the sound design team, the hazy light enshrouding memories coming courtesy of director of photography Virginie Surdej, and the voice-over - a love and farewell letter addressed to the deceased by the protagonist - a whole slice of Peru’s traumatic history is offered up for contemplation.

Fuga was produced by Clin d’Oeil Films (Belgium) in co-production with SNG Studio (Netherlands), Tu vas voir (France) and Perpetua Films (Peru).

(Translated from French)