St-Henri, the 26th of August

If September Five at Saint-Henri is a film of disjunctions, St-Henri, the 26^th of August, made 50 years later in echo and homage, prefers to linger in contrasts. The neighbourhood’s residents are given centre stage, free from the tyrannical modulation of voiceover narration. Strolling through the neighbourhood on the first day of school—the same setting as September Five at Saint-Henri—the residents tell the stories of their streets, alleyways, and shops, revealing the contrasts at play. Traditional stores and practical corner stores butt up against chic boutiques and workshops. Dated housing blocks and low-rent apartment buildings share space with newly erected condos and modernized brownstones. The Franco/Anglo population from the first film has diversified into a multicultural population that has transformed a neighbourhood already at odds with its working-class origins and rampant gentrification. Residents scraping together a living from beer-can deposits cross paths with business owners who prefer to live on Nun’s Island, far from the “hell” of St-Henri. Free from the burden of reinventing cinema that hindered the Rouch and Truffaut-referencing team of the original film, the St-Henri, the 26^th of August team is there to observe, rather than spy on, to listen, rather than comment on, to capture, rather than gawk at the young, old, rebels, urban explorers, bikers, fishermen, shopkeepers—at all of the ordinary people that make up a neighbourhood. The resulting film is a moving dialogue with its predecessor that still succeeds in setting itself apart.

Claire Valade
Critic and programmer