Synopsis
Snowbirds is a mid-length documentary that reaches out to golden age Canadians living in Florida during the winter season. This is the growing trend of an entire generation migrating to the tropics, seeking a leisure society that can entertain them. With tenderness and humor, this sociological documentary goes to the heart of their daily lives by painting a human portrait of this typically Canadian social phenomenon. Welcome to the French District of Florida, Snowbird’s paradise.
A word from Tënk
Chasing the sun to better lounge around is their retirement plan. Unlike migratory birds, Québec’s "snowbirds" don’t head south out of natural survival or reproductive instincts. No longer in the prime of life, they find themselves in Florida to escape the punishing cold and the added solitude that winter can bring to an older person’s life.
However, this escape to Trump’s fortress does not come with a desire to endorse the excesses of American culture. These vacationers may reject Québec’s climate, but forgetting their roots and culture is out of the question. In this affectionate and quasi-ethnographic portrait, the protagonists—mostly unilingual Francophones from the working class—live humbly, far from opulence, in a mobile home park. They primarily seek to live in community, remain active, and enjoy the sun in the company of other Québécois·e·s.
Amid this lifestyle, undeniably influenced by the search for prefab happiness and American-style consumption, it’s impossible to escape the kitsch universe that typically animates filmmaker Joannie Lafrenière’s work. Like a microcosm, the scenes resemble those observed at a local summer campground: folding chairs scattered everywhere, the omnipresence of plastic trinkets, steamed hot dogs paired with a good Pepsi, tanned bodies stretched out on faded towels by the pool, pétanque tournaments to stay fit, and bingo or country dance nights to meet new people. The only notable difference is that, in Florida, the palm trees are real rather than mere imitations. Lafrenière delights in capturing these symbols and, in return, offers an affectionate look at the comforting little world these people have built for themselves.
Being dismissed as an old-timer, being too affected by illness to return, or seeing the park shuttered due to creeping gentrification are looming anxieties that cast shadows over this paradise of kitsch. At the end of the season, faced with the impending return home and the eventual thought of playing cards in a dull nursing home, one can only wish the best to these Florida neighbors, along with the promise of a pontoon ride come summer.
Danick-André Dubuc
Tënk Subscriber