“A genuinely moving exploration of the importance of allowing momentary sojourns from reality.”

Werner Herzog once famously said, “the world reveals itself to those who travel on foot”, which has been appropriated by many a wanderer, urban and pastoral. There is something remarkable about moving through a space with nothing but the ground beneath you and a general idea of the path that lies ahead. This slightly abstract concept forms the foundation for D’ici là, the most recent film by Sarah Leonor, who has dedicated her career to exploring the world and finding ways to acknowledge the virtue of slow, methodical filmmaking. Set in a remote part of the Vosges mountain range in France, the film follows three characters – Lucien, Aline and Jade – who find themselves moving through the region. Each of them has different intentions and existential quandaries, which rear their heads as their journeys gradually intersect with one another, revealing new layers to a fascinating dynamic. This ultimately turns into a poignant exploration of the human condition, filtered through the lens of three distinct characters going on their own journeys of self-discovery, hoping to find answers in a natural world that becomes so much larger the further they move through it over time. Built on a simple but effective premise, and driven by a genuine desire to investigate various abstract ideas relating to identity and desire, D’ici là proves to be quite an effective work, and further evidence that Leonor possesses a distinct perspective which is revealed over the course of this unexpectedly daring drama.
The term “d’ici là” roughly translates to “in the meantime” or “until then”, and at a glance it seems like nothing more than a grammatical expression used as the title for this film. That is, until we realise that it is attempting to describe a film that defies categorisation, gathering two hours of quietly meandering storytelling (told through three individual narratives) and placing them together under a common sentiment. This reveals so much of Leonor’s intentions, since D’ici là is indeed a film about those moments in between big events, those quiet days where we are either isolated or separated from our usual lives, solitary experiences that provide reprieves from the humdrum nature of ordinary existence. The director builds the film around an in-depth examination of those ambiguous moments that we don’t acknowledge as being particularly interesting, yet they prove to be very effective when viewed through a certain lens. Each of the three protagonists we encounter has their own dynamic life, which they intend to momentarily put on hold while setting out on the journey through these mountains (stretching further than anticipated), and where they hope to find answers to their personal quandaries. Based on this film and those that preceded it, Leonor is fascinated by the relationship between nature and humanity. Here we encounter characters searching for meaning in a world that doesn’t always feel welcoming, embracing the solitude and sitting with the uncomfortable sense of displacement that often precedes very important internal realizations, all of which ultimately anchors D’ici là as a film that is deeply resonant, even at its most abstract.
Throughout D’ici là, Leonor demonstrates her impeccable ability to turn the mundane into the profoundly moving, taking a straightforward premise and making it extraordinarily cinematic. Filmed on location in the Vosges, the film takes complete advantage of the stunning natural surroundings; despite its incredible beauty, the region surprisingly has not often been used as a setting for films. Leonor, along with director of photography Laurent Desmet, focuses on evoking a specific visual aesthetic – the daytime scenes highlight the vibrant, rich colors of the region, while those that take place at night allow for some fascinating experimentation with light and shadows, adding further emotional layering onto an already challenging film. Every composition could be a painting in itself, and it serves as an enticing portrait of a place that viewers will immediately want to visit, simply to soak in the splendor of that beauty firsthand. With most of the film taking place outdoors, the cinematography does exceptionally well in evoking a feeling of endlessness, leaning heavily into the idea that these characters are gradually seeing the world open up before them. The trio of actors who populate the film (Frank Beauvais, Dinara Drukarova and Louiza Aura) do strong work as the central protagonists, delivering quiet, moving performances that are not particularly elaborate or dramatic, but rather infused with a deep sensitivity towards the more existential aspects of this story. The merging of emotion and imagery becomes the basis for this profoundly poetic voyage into the human mind, both philosophically and psychologically robust in a way that is hauntingly beautiful.
D’ici là is a film in which very little happens, and one where the narrative structure is gently reworked by a director who is more interested in the emotions that exist in between the large moments, focusing on those experiences that are rarely noticed, but are vital to understanding the human condition, particularly those aspects that resist easy comprehension. While it may sometimes intentionally meander, the film is never tedious, and manages to find beauty in the banality through this in-depth view of three characters coming to terms with the uncomfortable nature of existence by embracing a kind of warm solitude, revealing the natural poetry that often goes unnoticed in everyday life. This is a film in which images and music say more than dialogue ever could, and where contemporary life is almost reviled. Any glimpse of modernity, such as cell phones, cars or emails, feels intentionally jarring and unnatural. There’s a concept introduced midway through the film, that of an “inner lake” – we exist within nature, and nature exists within us, this cyclical idea becoming the philosophy that governs the film. It certainly requires patience and attention on the part of the viewer, but once D’ici là begins to hit its stride, finding the balance between concept and execution, it becomes a genuinely moving exploration of the importance of allowing momentary sojourns from reality, indicating the value in taking any kind of journey of self-discovery, whether physical or otherwise.