Editorials

Disseminating its achenes with the dogged determination of annual plant, the Ânûû-rû Âboro Festival is an anemophilous organism that disperses its seeds through desire and instinct. A dehydrated sprig that still finds the energy, this year, to scatter to the four winds a little of its hope inspired by its subversive humanism and its duty to exist.
The festival has always promoted the idea of offering films the opportunity to report on the world in a silent way... even from the barricades. And, of course, without restricting its attention to the numbers we are constantly bombarded with, because experience sadly demonstrates that they cause a sensation in the moment, but then fade out of our awareness. Numbers, as real as they may be, possess the faculty to become abstract and are constantly implicated in the disappearance of the faces and sentient beings they are meant to represent. Ultimately, Mankind is devoured by the numbers that tell its story... and sow division among its ranks. Just like the percentages that are supposed to define us and to which we cling.

This unfortunate tendency to rely on civic fragmentation to get out of trouble removes it from its very nature, and the country, in the grip of an existential crisis, offers itself to all manner of excesses. It has lost its bearings, and one must hope that it won’t find inspiration in the voices of chaos that clamour daily all over the world. We are obviously not alone in being lost in our ways. Beyond our coral reef, the century is busying itself. It won’t wait! But it isn’t even at ease with its certainties and, just as powerless to imagine itself in collective terms, it has no idea of its destination. As distant as it seems, it remains important that we learn from it: in order to be together, we must watch together... This is as much the raison d’être of the festival, as, most certainly, the main reason why thoughts of exclusion are proliferating, delivered to the public by information networks nowadays in the hands of the multitude.

One must admit that, fascinated by novelty and counter powers, we had no idea the media landscape would become pixelated at such speed, with so much stupidity and barbaric mediocrity. Undoubtedly, we find ourselves gripped by the unpleasant symptoms of a morning that follows excessive, reckless partying. Social media can now claim, without a hint of false modesty, to be responsible for much of the tachycardia that affects democracies and the agitation of leaders. To their inflammatory potential to distort reality, we must add a capacity for propagation only rivalled by viruses.

In the face of this digital pandemic, documentaries stand guard. They would wish to be able to declare with conviction: “no one will leave here tonight an ignoramus!”. Because, obviously, we must today cast aside ignorance as the justification for excesses; it can no longer be held up as extenuating circumstances. Basing ourselves on the premise that the information network is no longer able to calmly open spheres of consciousness, assigning some of that mission to documentary films is not a fundamentally naive or idiotic idea.

The festival is only, admittedly, a humble irritant of a pixel in an ocean of screens, but it finds itself docked in silence, and reassures us with its sincere faith in truth and benevolence. Once again, for this fifteenth edition, the festival warmly welcomes film directors who are socially and politically committed, and fueled by unswerving empathy... This year, they will not be here with us, and our most brotherly thoughts converge towards this absence, aware of all the humanity that is their gift to us.

The 2020 and 2021 editions of the festival, had to be cancelled, and it is with all the more joy that we have the pleasure to thank you for your company for this new edition.