Kathleen is a hairdresser. Always has been. Always will be. Even at 83, she's still doing hair. But not in the way you would expect. Her work is special. For the last 31 years, Kathleen has been primping and pampering terminally ill patients in palliative care. In this short documentary, Kathleen reflects on her experience as we bear witness to her unusual work.
Director | Lorraine Price |
Share on |
Lorraine Price delivers, through her film The Hairdresser, a gentle look at Kathleen's daily life. Beyond the care she gives them, Kathleen offers a precious moment to the individuals she attends to. This, in turn, leads us to observe their individuality, and their sensitivity, rather than their medical condition to which they are usually reduced. The latter offers them, for a brief moment, a setting allowing them to exist differently, through considerations that are often no longer granted to them. The film translates the direct impact of her movements and words. As if by magic, while she is busy curling the patient's hair in an impersonal, even dehumanizing environment, the bars of the hospital bed suddenly seem a little less cold, the gray of the walls less dull, contrasting with the colors of the framed photos, which are much more vivid. The Hairdresser highlights what is too often neglected, considered fanciful or superfluous, and in this way underlines the sublime that characterizes Kathleen's approach.
Yulia Kaiava
Tënk Canada's editorial assistant
Lorraine Price delivers, through her film The Hairdresser, a gentle look at Kathleen's daily life. Beyond the care she gives them, Kathleen offers a precious moment to the individuals she attends to. This, in turn, leads us to observe their individuality, and their sensitivity, rather than their medical condition to which they are usually reduced. The latter offers them, for a brief moment, a setting allowing them to exist differently, through considerations that are often no longer granted to them. The film translates the direct impact of her movements and words. As if by magic, while she is busy curling the patient's hair in an impersonal, even dehumanizing environment, the bars of the hospital bed suddenly seem a little less cold, the gray of the walls less dull, contrasting with the colors of the framed photos, which are much more vivid. The Hairdresser highlights what is too often neglected, considered fanciful or superfluous, and in this way underlines the sublime that characterizes Kathleen's approach.
Yulia Kaiava
Tënk Canada's editorial assistant
Français
English