Americana

The USA does not enjoy worldwide popularity, and freedom and democracy are no longer exportable. Young idealistic Americans learn this hard lesson in Istanbul, Belgrade, Hiroshima. But in Needles, California, a small peaceful village in the Mojave Desert, whose days and nights are cradled by the local radio, this side of reality remains unheard. The murmur of the outside world is inaudible. It is not merely an ocean that separates Vietnam from Needles, but intergalactic space. Needles is of a patriotic fibre: the veterans’ ceremonies bring out the crowds, a civil defence militia created by teachers and students pace up and down the corridors and amphitheatres of the secondary schools in search of recruits, the army even has a stand there. Two individuals cross the threshold of the stand, two youngsters from modest families. (Yann Lardeau)