Camion

Rafaël Ouellet’s film opens with an old man doing what he has done for decades: loading and driving his semi rig in rural Quebec. Germain (Julien Poulin) is an independent trucker; he’s had a long career, and it ends in a moment of horror that arrives onscreen with breathtaking force. In Montreal, Samuel (Patrice Dubois) gets a middle-of-the-night phone call: news of his father’s tragedy. He takes time off from his dead-end janitorial job to visit Germain at the small town family home. Reluctantly along for the ride is second son Alain (Stéphane Breton), a garrulous ne’er-do-well with a sad past.

This is a film of exquisite precision. An office building in the dead of night, the glare of a TV in a darkened room, the clicks of a hunting rifle being prepared for action: setting and incident are rendered with a beautifully calibrated physicality. Small moments are crucial in this film, but they’re never falsely inflated. The three lead actors are superb, each evoking alienation in his own way. What their characters share is a familial malaise of loss and failure, but failure is not destiny, for these guys or for anyone. When hope arrives here, it does so in the most familiar way: slowly, tentatively, quietly. The way it takes hold of these men rings wonderfully true.