Le Garagiste

A long drawn out inexorable purgatorial condition eats away at the fiesty Adrien (Normand D'Amour), Le Garagiste, his active life having been reduced to a series of strict and tedious rummagings, inexhaustible excretions, as he patiently awaits a new kidney.

Fatigue leads him to hire a young mechanic to work at his garage, fate having tricked him into engaging his only son, whom he didn't help raise but never forgot, suddenly communicating, in the language of a younger generation.

The phone rings after 5 years of silence to announce that a donor has been found.

But the new kidney doesn't jive, and after a lively respite, his routine hauntingly rematerializes.

Courage in the face of adversity waning, he's left psychologically paralyzed.

A sad film, a mournful investigation of intergenerational and marital misfires, the desperate longing to joyfully convalesce, the crushing mental instability of a far too embalmed lifestyle.

Entrenched.

Renée Beaulieu illustrates Adrien's despondency by repeatedly filming him back at the hospital, hooked up to the dialysis machine, antiseptic ubiquity.

I thought many scenes were cut too short and more could have been done with Adrien's relationship with his son Raphaël (Pierre-Yves Cardinal).

Whether or not Beaulieu meant for Le Garagiste to indirectly comment on the current national euthanasia debate is a point for consideration.

Raphaël doesn't have a life altering kidney for instance.

It seems to be suggesting that it's a positive thing, as Adrien's suffering becomes too much to bear.

I think euthanasia should be an option for chronically ill patients suffering intensely.

If God thinks they should continue to live a life of constant pain for years in order to die naturally, he or she could be more loving, don't you think?

Complicated issues bucolically narrativized, Le Garagiste coddles to question, while incrementally challenging stoic perseverance.

Cold and bleak, it subtly generates a wistful external dialogue, celebrating health by interrogating helplessness, that which could be, harrowingly dislocating.

La dernière fugue (The Last Escape)

A son struggles with his conception of his father as that father tries to maintain his place at the head of his household during Christmas dinner. But Parkinson's Disease and a generally ornery disposition have lead that father's family to openly revolt against his traditional authority. While taking a break, family members André (Yves Jacques) and Sam (Aliocha Schneider) consider the notion that perhaps euthanasia is the best solution, seeing how their patriarch (Jacques Godin) remains mentally lucid but physically and spiritually destitute. Their long suffering matriarch (Andrée Lachapelle) isn't adverse to the idea (especially after the father mentions that he no longer wishes to go on) and Léa Pool's La dernière fugue (The Last Escape) crisply examines the resultant subject matter. But is it the patriarchy itself that has Parkinson's and are we watching a sentimental salute to an eclipsed cultural stranglehold whose vilification of marijuana and strict gender roles doesn't productively jive with the 21st century? Pool's film doesn't directly suggest this and she delicately pays respect to different generational attitudes within, providing multiple viewpoints with terse, spur of the moment exclamations. The speed at which everything takes place is suspect as is the sudden ending, but the overt manner which Pool adopts in order to launch her investigation is pronounced and bold and refreshingly open.