Upon finding himself confronted by his rapidly ailing grandmother whose Alzheimer’s had been more or less covered up by her husband, filmmaker Raphaël Pettigrew decided to further explore the idea of losing oneself for the sake of others in the making of his NYU Tisch Undergraduate project I Remember (Je Me Souviens). There is no room to escape the grief pulsating through Pettigrew’s close, near suffocating camera work and single shots relentlessly honing in on his actors’ faces. I Remember is as close, personal and claustrophobic as they come with dual agonising family based storylines interweaving to amplify the intense thematic exploration of loss. We invited Pettigrew to speak to us about harnessing his own feelings of hopelessness and desperation through his grieving son protagonist, placing his trust in his actors as he found new meaning and engagement in their improvisation, and adopting a naturalistic cinema verite approach to every step of the production process.

So, this was a very personal project for you. How did the story develop?

The development of the initial concept began after my Grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2018. The progression of the disease took me and the rest of my family by surprise because my Grandfather, thinking she would die first, hid the extent of her deterioration, trying to save us from the pain. After a surprise illness, my Grandfather passed away in 2019 and when we went to visit my Grandmother she wasn’t the person we knew anymore. We were originally slated to shoot the film in March of 2020 but were delayed by the pandemic. In the two years that it took to re-mount the production, the script was edited significantly so as to really drive home the emotional desperation of Luc. The approach also changed, going from a quiet, meditative film to up close, extreme, and loud. The most notable change during production would be that we relied heavily on improv for a few of the key scenes, finding that to reach the necessary emotional peaks, the actors had to fully immerse themselves into the action, and be given the freedom to react/engage as their characters saw fit.

 In Luc I wanted to convey desperation personified, someone who is unable to face their grief and so decides to conquer it.

You take us down a very dark path in what is already a dark subject matter and I felt unease the whole way through. When writing the script what were you looking to convey?

I created this film almost as a way for me to delve into my own feelings of helplessness, watching someone I love slowly fade away. In Luc I wanted to convey desperation personified, someone who is unable to face their grief and so decides to conquer it. I think the hardest thing for me when my Grandmother was suffering from Alzheimer’s was that I couldn’t do anything to help her, there was no direct action I could take that would save her. I soon realized that to really help her I just needed to be there for her, the way she had been there for me so many times before, during my childhood. I wanted to create a story that took my feelings of ineptitude to the extreme with Luc and his commitment to “making her remember”, and showing that for me at least, no amount of action could have helped her, that in the end, love is what carried us through.

When on set we shot nearly only singles, as close as humanly possible to the actors. I wanted the audience to be fully immersed in the reactions of the characters.

I applaud your decision to be loud and close up. It’s a powerful juxtaposition to the contemplation on memory and its deterioration.

The intensity of the film really came through in the edit, camera work, and the music. I edited the film, and it took close to a year for me to finish it. Most of that time was taken up making the slightest adjustments in clip times, so that the speed and choppiness could elicit a feeling of jarring intensity without being so much as to be distracting from the actual film. What I always said to Idil Eryurekli, the very talented DP who shot the film, was – I want to deal with faces. When on set we shot nearly only singles, as close as humanly possible to the actors. I wanted the audience to be fully immersed in the reactions of the characters. Forced to be a part of the situation. As for the music, it is both melancholic and jarring. It perfectly encapsulates the spirit of the film, and just really helped elevate the emotional tension of the scenes in which it was featured.

Can you give us an example of one of the improvised scenes you mentioned? What changed and worked for you?

A lot of the first bedroom scene was improvised with Simon Rousseau and Therese Blais playing off each other’s reactions. Because of the close up and naturalistic feel of the movie, the dialogue was almost a hindrance to the acting prowess of these two actors. I eventually decided to place my trust in their talents, and when I did, the whole feeling changed. They were able to ‘be free’ and embody the spirit and motivations of their characters. The dialogue changed, but it didn’t really matter, the emotional arc, the blueprint of the scene, was clearer than ever.

Because of the close up and naturalistic feel of the movie, the dialogue was almost a hindrance to the acting prowess of these two actors.

Cinematographer Idil Eryurekli’s work in this is truly stunning, there’s a pervading haze, not dissimilar to fading memory. How did you develop the look, feel and tone of the film?

We drew a lot of inspiration for this film from American New Wave Cinema. The work of Barbara Loden, John Cassavetes, Shirley Clarke, and Robert Altman greatly informed our naturalistic and cinema verite approach. I have always been struck by the emotional honesty of the films by these filmmakers, and wanted to make sure my film struck the same chord. Idil and I were unwavering when it came to framing, we always wanted faces and we wanted them close, a raw and exposed look into the psyche of a desperate but well intentioned son. The haze I think was achieved by our focus on natural light, and the exceptional 35mm emulation done by Zack Chalmers, our colorist.

What processes did you adopt in post production to again, amplify and really set this colour and greyness of the world.

The look of the film was achieved by working closely with Idil, and Zack Chalmers, the colorist. The post color process was centered on naturalism, and keeping the environment devoid from outside influence. Apart from the Church and final night scene where, due to being pivotal story points, we used color to contextualize the emotions of the scene. Most of the scenes take place in a white hue so as to drive this idea of neutral bleakness and melancholic reality the characters find themselves in. I didn’t want the scenes to be emotionally suggestive, I wanted to see the world not as something emotional, but real. And to me that made it all the more tragic, that life doesn’t care what’s going on with Luc and Jacqueline.

The post color process was centered on naturalism, and keeping the environment devoid from outside influence.

I felt like the ending was open, what did you plan for Luc?

For me the ending represented Luc accepting that to move past his grief, he must accept it. In him taking on the role of his Father he sacrifices himself for the betterment of his Mother, he plays into her fantasies because he finally understands that this is all she has left. It’s not about ‘saving’ his Mother any more, it’s about taking care of her, and putting himself aside.

What are you working on now?

I am in post for a very personal short documentary about intergenerational trauma, featuring my Grandfather. I am also currently looking to start production on another short about the loss of childhood innocence. And I am developing my first feature.

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