How Some Jellyfish Are Born

Nothing reassures me more than the beginnings of things; births.

The beginnings of cinema are a good place to take refuge. One witnesses the emergence of a language, the first stammerings of a way of showing, of telling, of experimenting with the world. An appearance of simplicity.

Watching today, amid the chaos of the world, a film by Painlevé on the reproductive process of jellyfish soothes me more than anything else. Set to a tense soundtrack by Pierre Conté, the descriptive narration guides us in interpreting the mysterious images before us. Thanks to his “microscope of time,” Painlevé reveals all kinds of processes invisible to the naked eye that lead to the reproduction of these cnidarians.

It feels as though we are witnessing the miracle of all living things unfolding before us: rupture, deformation, bursting, shock, expansion, vibration, drifting, fixation, stretching. All kinds of movements and transformations are at work. If we do not blink, if we manage to see between the images, might we finally come to understand the origin of life?!

Painlevé’s films are as incongruous as they are familiar. As fantastical as they are realistic. They are made of a soft, wondrous substance; they slip into our bodies, allowing us to hear new notes and touch unknown textures. It seems to me that they open a passage we would do well to continue exploring.

All of this is deeply mysterious, but I feel that a channel has been opened… I will continue the exploration.

Naomie Décarie-Daigneault
Tënk's Artistic Director