The Last Life of Simon.
Films are so made that they convey, without their authors suspecting it, much more than the story told. Any film escapes the narrator. This is the case of this film to discover, The Last Life of Simon. A film whose narrative rubs shoulders with the poetic approach of a Jean Cocteau and his adaptation of Orphée. The unconscious lodges there, and the film becomes more readable. The authors may refer to American cinema alone, but they remain steeped in their cinematic roots from the Old Continent. Thus vogue the 7th Art, an imaginary in continuous construction. It is all its power to offer the exception to the public. Director Léo Karman and his screenwriter Sabrina B. Karine are in perfect harmony. From there to imagine that she could have given a helping hand to the staging? A view of the mind, of course. In a case, homogeneity of the story is there, without false note, without excessive duration. The good tempo of the projection which stalls at the spectator’s heartbeat. And we must not believe that this is enough. Feeling concerned is already a start, because the film questions. Its metaphor aptly questions our approach to death, to its consent. But also of the resurrection. Organ donation. You can live in someone else’s body. Accepting yourself mortal as a form of rebirth. Human. It is the philosophy of the film which with the lightness of the tale offers us this human fable.