Nassim Amaouche

Le Nouvô Cosmos: a neighbourhood bar nestled in the heights of Belleville, in the shadow of the Saint-Jean-Baptiste church. From this animated, typically Parisian bistro, emanates a light feeling of elsewhere; a discrete promise of escape. Perhaps even some features reminiscent of Kabylie (a northern region of Algeria), given the Arabic connotations discernible in the interior. A regular in the 20th arrondissement, Nassim Amaouche seems to know of quite a few other nice spots in this corner of the capital. Surely because he still lives there today, a little further down the hill. He mentions that he’s a resident of “social housing”, as if wanting to suggest that, despite his “[satisfied] desires in cinema”, he’s not entirely removed from his modest roots.

Born in Sévres in 1977 into a “lower middle-class family” (his father a craftsman, his mother a secretary), Nassim confesses that he had to construct his cinephile culture on his own. And he still gives the impression of being a latecomer. It was only in 2000, after sociology studies in Paris, that he joined film school, moving at first into sound engineering, or more accurately, music… “A little by chance” then, he ended up joining the ranks of the Directing section. It was a good thing he did: his short De l’autre côté was superb and toured around many festivals. Awarded the Prix découverte de la critique, this family portrait earned him a trip to Cannes in 2004 for the Critics’ Week - something to make his parents even more proud. Five years later, he’s happy to return, of course, but a little anxious about the public reception of Adieu, Gary, his first feature. If worried though, this contender for the Camera d’Or is no less curious; impatient to discover the other films selected such as Altiplano and Ordinary People. Not forgetting that between Nassim’s two Cannes experiences, he completed another short: Quelques miettes pour les oiseaux (2005), a remarkable travel chronicle filmed in Ruwayshed, a Jordanian no man’s land next to Iraq. It was an exercise in how to become conscious of the double power of the camera: at once a tool for conserving fragile traces of life and symbol of a thirst for freedom which could prove to be risky, but necessary.

Cultivating certain recurring themes in each film: the “family unit [as] bridge between the intimate and the universal”, father-son relationships, “double identities” (of social class and ethnic culture), Amaouche has above all the courage to hone a universe situated at the border between social realism and poetry. The very same location as that of Adieu, Gary, the former working-class city of Lafargue, in the Ardèche, which seemed to him the quintessence of this dream-like mundanity. A veritable cinematic décor in its brute form, this “ghost town”, composed today of one deserted street, encapsulates an atmosphere reminiscent of a Western. Actually, being so concerned with “paying very special attention to the images”, Nassim regrets a little not having been able to dedicate more time to his actors: from the most hardened professionals, Jean-Pierre Bacri and Dominique Reymond, to the novices - although no less sublime, Mhamed Arezki and Sabrina Ouazani (also seen in the work of Abdellatif Kechiche).

Impatient to get stuck into writing his next feature, this young dad is nevertheless going to give himself time to experiment with a return to his most intimate creative resources: his family. Nassim will return to short documentaries in search of his father’s house in Petite Kabylie, which was bombed during the war. He’ll film to excavate the pieces of buried treasure, hidden recollections, and remains of forgotten history. Without quite knowing why, it makes one think of the work of cineastes such as Khalil Joreige and Joana Hadjithomas. Cited by Nassim himself, other references abound - including Le train sifflera troi fois. He has already begun to take flight in the tradition of these determined and inventive filmmakers; humanistic and sincere, attuned to their time, their society and its ills, even though implacably “sensitive to the poetry […] of reality”. If Nassim means ‘Zephyr’ - that soft and warm western wind - in Arabic, Cannes can sometimes give you wings.

Emilie Padellec