Review: Sunshine Radio
- Valéry Rosier returns with a film following the parallel paths of three characters who seem to be constantly on the run so as to forget that time is slipping by

Since his early shorts, Valéry Rosier has been fictionalising reality and documenting fiction. Moving from one genre to another, his cinema is about places and people, and it is as vulnerable as it is tender. These distinctive traits are also present in his new film, which has him treading familiar grounds. Sunshine Radio, which world premiered as the opening film of the National Competition of the Brussels International Film Festival (BRIFF), follows the parallel trajectories of three slightly damaged characters, three loners, often on the road, who seem to be constantly running away to avoid confronting the fact that time is passing.
Without telling her loved ones, Corinne (Corinne Masiero) has hit the road in her camper van to go and celebrate the anniversary of Radio Bonheur (also the original title of the film), where she and her boyfriend used to be hosts. Carlos (Philippe Rebbot), a taxi driver, distractedly listens to his passengers’ fears to shun his own anxiety about growing old. Tom (Tom Audenaert) works at Eternity Service, where he handles the remains of people’s pets. What Corinne leaves behind is a loss and a grieving process she can’t bring herself to go through. What she chooses to do instead is to live in a bubble, at least until reality catches up with her. Carlos would like to believe in love, but he’s surely too old for that now, as he has long lost his looks and attractiveness. As far as Tom is concerned, if he strives so hard to comfort those who have lost their pet, it is the better to forget that soon, he himself will very likely lose his father.
Sunshine Radio opens with dedications broadcast on air, and that’s no coincidence. The film, made of small things and details of life, seems to approach Corinne, Carlos and Tom as listeners who have requested a song with a loved one in mind. While grief — current, impending or symbolic — lies at the heart of all of their sorrows, Sunshine Radio is first and foremost a film about love in all its forms: romantic, filial, parental, etc., and that includes the love which can exist between humans and animals. Valéry Rosier had already brought his camera to a local radio station, for Silence Radio, and here, again, as was also already the case with his seaside resort-set debut feature Parasol, the palpable influence of the locations as well as the people inhabiting them is what helps shape the fiction. For his new endeavour, in fact, the filmmaker chose to reunite with his DoP on Parasol, Olivier Boonjing (whose work on that film earned him the Magritte for Best Cinematography). Together, they create static, often wide shots in which the characters can breathe, and where we sometimes watch them lose themselves.
Sunshine Radio is a delicate film driven not by a propulsive plot but by an attention to small gestures, stolen glances, the sound of people’s voices and the simplicity of love song lyrics – all of this beautifully carried by the humanity of its three leads, and of all the non-professional actors they meet along the way.
Sunshine Radio was produced by the Brussels-based outfit Wrong Men, which has collaborated with the director since his first feature. International sales are handled by Salaud Morisset.
(Translated from French)
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