In a sparsely furnished room, sitting on a single bed, a man speaks. Two huge eyes pierce his face, marked by a painful event. This man too has a "tongue of fire". He is inhabited by something that goes through him from one side to the other; fire, desire, rage. Also filled by a doubt, an anxiety that veils the blue of the eyes, that crosses the screen and grabs the heart. However, he does not speak for us, but for him. For this young brother, a fellow soldier, who came to visit him in his cell, to slake his thirst from the source of his revolt. In this sordid cage where the lynx paces only in imagination, while his long legs drag, useless, a window leaves a wide and tragic opening towards the outside. "I can't wait to live."

In our cursed homeland where our poets die of loneliness, I dream of a different ending. I dream that Gilles Groulx will cast a shadow on the sun. That his breathless anger resounds and shakes the columns of the temple. I dream that the lynx prowls and watches over the not-yet dead poets. I dream of Groulx's two wide open eyes, printed on film, that never cease to glow in the dark and guide us to the light.

This is only the beginning, let's continue the fight.

 

Naomie Décarie-Daigneault
Tënk's Artistic Director