When his relationship fell apart and his partner moved out, Frank Beauvais was left trapped in the French countryside. He had no driver’s license to escape his depressing surroundings and no money to return to Paris, but he did have a huge stack of films on DVD, which he constantly supplemented with online orders and illegal downloads. Over a period of six months he watched 400 films, from obscure Soviet productions and black-and-white classics to horror and Japanese soft porn. From these images, he distilled a film that is an amalgam of a visual autobiography, a literary confession and a superior sampling composition.
In precise, often caustic prose, Beauvais talks about his childhood, the creative impasse in which he finds himself, the terrorist attacks that are taking place at that time, the death of his father, and his aversion to village life—a dislike that borders on snobbery. Each lasting only seconds, the accompanying film excerpts illustrate and contrast his words, creating an almost subconscious additional layer. During his six months of involuntary exile, Beauvais was in danger of losing himself in film, but it was where he ultimately found himself.