For producer, director and writer Alexandre Franchi, ‘L’Autre’ began with an experience that nearly claimed his life. Inspired by his own battle with cancer and time in hospital, the film transforms fear, pain, absurdity and isolation into a darkly comic exploration of illness and the human instinct to survive. Following Stan, a cancer patient whose hospital stay takes an unexpected turn, ‘L’Autre’ moves between psychological strain, grotesque humour and moments of surrealism, deliberately blurring the line between the absurd and the painfully real. After years of healing, writing, experimentation and editing, Franchi describes making the film as a cathartic rite of passage, culminating in its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival. In this chat with Armin Sethi, Franchi discusses turning a deeply personal medical ordeal into cinema, finding humour in suffering, and using experimentation to bring audiences inside Stan’s fractured reality. ‘L’Autre’ will be having its world premiere on Saturday, September 12th at TIFF.
You experienced cancer yourself, including being in the hospital, and that personal experience is reflected in the film. When you’re drawing from something as intimate and difficult as your own experience, how did you manage the emotional weight of making the film? Did the filmmaking process become a way of processing that experience, did it sometimes make it more difficult, or did you feel like it was a process of healing for you?
The answer to this question is paradoxical. First off, when I was actually filming the scenes of surgery, suffering, and hospital anguish of Stan, the main character, I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. The life-death reality of what I had endured was so intense, the suffering so traumatic, that the re-enactment of it on a film set felt like an empty pastiche. I was always worried that what we filmed was not intense enough, and I had to rely on my close collaborators (script person, cinematographer, 1st AD, and co-writer) to confirm that, in fact, it was very intense and emotionally engaging.
However, the whole process of making this film – from the concept to screenplay, to casting, to filming and editing – was like a cathartic rite of passage. The final step was the world premiere at TIFF in front of an audience.
After my medical ordeal, the physical and mental healing took years. Part of that healing involved expressing what I had gone through: fear, the pain, the absurdity of certain medical situations (criminal roommate, medical errors, out-of-touch family members, etc.). In fact, things got so Kafkaesque in the hospital that, at first, an immense sentiment of frustration and anger had to be expressed. Then, as the years passed and emotions settled down, as my chances for survival increased, I realized that my medical ordeal had changed me. The writing and filmmaking process entered into a dialogue with the physical and mental healing, and I gradually acquired the distance to make the film more…universal. A message to my brothers and sisters who might, and ultimately will, undergo a similar situation – namely, to be a broken body in a broken medical/social system.
What was the biggest challenge you faced during production, and was there a moment when you thought, “This is going to be much harder than I expected”?
The biggest challenge I faced during production was myself! I wanted to make a film that encompassed the entirety of my experience, and I wanted the audience to be able to get the full impact of it all. From the depths of anguish to the morphine induced libidinous highs. I wanted the pure truth to come unfiltered through the screen. That made me doubt; that made me always wonder if there was not “a better way to do it.” It sometimes drove my collaborators crazy haha!
The second biggest challenge was to try to bring a process of experimentation that we normally get in other art forms (painting, music, etc.) to making a film. Films are very expensive, and so rehearsal times, lighting tests, and SFX tests are always reduced to a strict minimum. With this film, my co-producer Ménaïc Raoul and I made a lot of sacrifices in order to be able to afford this level of experimentation. We even cut days of film shooting! And this was a good gamble. Given that most of the film takes place in a hospital room, we had to keep things interesting and captivating. That required a lot of work and a lot of planning. Just to get that freedom for trial-and-error exploration to find the best and novel ways to express what Stan, the main character, was going through.
The clip on TIFF’s website is brilliant, particularly in the way Stan’s delusion begins to feel completely real to us as an audience. What creative decisions did you make – whether through cinematography, sound, editing or performance – to put us inside Stan’s perspective and make his reality feel believable?
Ahah, thank you! But actually, the dance scene in the clip happens in the diegetic reality of the film. The young woman, Fleur, was high when she came to see Stan (we establish that earlier in the scene). After Stan’s manic revelation to her, Fleur bursts into a dance because she does not believe him. It is her grasp on reality that is a bit warped.
But to answer your question as it pertains to the entire film, whenever there were morphine-induced delusions, I very purposely tried NOT TO address them with cinematography, sound, or editing. In so many movies these days, I find that hallucinations, dreams, or delusions are pointed to, or marked, in a very heavy-handed way. These tropes are so common that they actually do not make me feel anything anymore. So I decided to avoid the problem entirely by not calling out to the audience what was real and what was not. Stan’s reality feels believable because of the grotesque medical details we show and the absurd humor of the situations.
What I did do, however, was use cinematography, editing, and sound to highlight Stan’s emotions and mood swings.
The film creates this really fascinating tension between psychological strain and grotesque humour. That’s a difficult balance – if the humour is pushed too far, it can undermine the tension, and if the tension becomes too heavy, you lose the humour. How did you find that balance while making the film?
Great question! We found that balance by a lot of experimentation, trial and error, and preparation, as I mentioned earlier. We also made sure we had enough editing time to properly achieve those tonal shifts you mention. Going from tension to humor, drama to tension, humor to tragedy, etc. took months and months of editing exploration. We ended up editing for nearly twice the time it takes a Canadian film to be edited. We did not go over budget to do that; we structured our production so that we could afford it.
This being said, those shifts between tension and humor are one of the things that I love the most about cinema. Some of my favorite filmmakers have done it. When I see a film, I love going on a roller coaster ride of emotions and states within a single scene. Crafting those shifts for an audience makes me feel like a kid again. It’s a genuine pleasure.
After spending so much time with this story and with Stan, what do you hope audiences take away from the film – particularly audiences who may be experiencing their own struggles with illness, fear, or isolation?
Ah! You mentioned psychological strain and grotesque humor a second ago. The psychological strain will invariably be present for those experiencing illness or struggles. What I learned is that one has to open the pressure valve for grotesque humor. This is universal; we all share it, we all recognize it. It’s what will help us keep our sanity and our joy. We actually have to cultivate that side of us in life so that it will be there when hard times come.
The other thing to take away, I will not spoil. One has to see the film to catch it. But it involves ‘L’Autre’.
Quick Takes:
– What projects are you currently pitching or developing?
My upcoming projects all revolve around genre-bending stories; most are cautionary tales about nature. The one most advanced so far is called ONE FLESH: A Republican soldier follows her pregnant left-wing lover and reluctant stepson to an organic commune at the edge of Québec, where a mysterious ecological plague forces her to fight for a family she never learned to love properly.
– What stage are these projects in (writing, pre-production, post-production)?
These projects are all in the development stage. Although I have a documentary on high-school dropouts that is in post-production.
– What kind of collaborators are you looking for right now? (writers, actors, producers, crew, etc.)
Mainly writers and producers or co-producers. Although it’s always good to get to know actors, as some projects may emerge with them in mind.
– How can people get in touch if they want to collaborate or learn more?
People can write at lamanchafilm@yahoo.ca or connect via social media, fb: Alexandre Franchi, Insta: @la_mancha_films
– Are you looking for submissions, funding, or other opportunities?
Collaborations on writing or perhaps delving into TV
– Any upcoming events, screenings, or launches readers should know about?
-The film will premiere in Quebec in late October. Dates TBC for the rest of Canada. We have a major international film festival scheduled for later this Fall, more news to follow.
