Jusqu’à  ce que le jour se lève

“A film made with them, to discover what is rumbling in the depths of oblivion and the region’s marginalised areas”: this is how Pierre Tonachella describes his patient chronicle of the life of his childhood friends, who, unlike him, have remained in their home region of Gâtinais. He accomplishes something that often becomes amiss when a sociological intent or the concern to develop “characters” permeates a documentary: an honest and never-moralising exploration of a rural working-class youth. Whether they talk about their jobs or joblessness, about a hard-won flat after 25 years of living with their parents, luxury villas, football or regrets (“I should have gone into the army”), whether they dance, drive or drink to the point of exhaustion, the mostly nocturnal filming captures their vital force and their obscure inclinations. Sometimes the narrative is spurred on by an offscreen question from the one they have dubbed “ Hollywood”. Alternating involvement and distance, the filmmaker – a geographically and perhaps also socially distant friend – consolidates his place and listening capacity with remarkable sensitivity. The editing creates two solitary alter egos that are distanced from the nightly partying: Théo, who tinkers with objects and roams the countryside uttering sometimes prophetic words (“We must watch the horizon”); and Pierre, his onomastic twin mentioned in the credits as co-author and whose voice-over texts we hear. “Essonne is so off the track / It makes you a wack.” (Charlotte Garson)