Marine, 21, learns that she has multiple sclerosis. She decides to leave for a long initiatory journey to meet herself and a new balance with this disease that she has tamed and baptized “Rosy”.
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“eat, pray, love”, this triptych had been beneficial for Liz Gilbert, protagonist of the autobiographical feature film adapted from his novel Eat, Pray, Love: a young divorced in search of meaning which, on a whim , decides to go to Italy, India and then to Bali to relearn how to live.
This curative treatment seems to have been just as beneficial for Marine Barnerias, a 21 -year -old student recently diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS). With the difference that she chooses to walk in New Zealand, to meditate in Burma, then to love herself in Mongolia. A moving initiatory journey, which she decides to engrave in marble with her documentary Rosy – the name she gave to her illness, as if to tame it -, entirely filmed with her iPhone and presented in dark rooms on the 5th January.
It was in 2015 that the diagnosis fell. During a sporting event, Marine loses her sight suddenly. A few hours later, at the hospital, a neurologist announced, coldly, a multiple sclerosis. “When she arrived in the room, I saw her as a Messiah, yet she was so little sensitive,” said the young woman. That day, Marine, whose joy of life and vitality are no doubt throughout the documentary, is only the shadow of herself.
assumed amateurism
Spectators are led to follow his medical career, between the scanners, the long expectations and the doubts of the girl and her family. There is the fear of a mother – “I did not understand what was going on” – or the remorse of a father on the verge of tears: “I thought I was responsible for your illness.” Testimonies Heart accompanied by a melancholy soundtrack composed by Matthieu Chedid, at the height of the drama.
Rosy’s amateurism, fully assumed, gives it a certain authenticity and a simplicity that moves. “Go ahead, ask your questions,” we hear. The sequences are linked without much transition, however, we do not lose the thread. “I don’t know why I do that, but I feel it, that’s all,” said Marine, while the camera is turned to her sister.
The documentary follows a clear structure: the five stages of mourning. After the denial (“it is not possible that it happens to me”) comes the misunderstanding. Marine discovers this autoimmune disease that affects the nervous system, which can cause sudden paralysis of one or more members.
“Sep, Sep, Sep”, this word obsesses him. For fear of getting lost, she decides to build a trip over nine months without treatment. New Zealand to rediscover its body, Burma to appease its mind, Mongolia to reconnect with its soul. If, at first glance, the film takes on personal development, it manages with skill to avoid stomach. The spectator becomes, in spite of himself, the traveling companion of navy -and of Rosy … -, simply sharing his doubts, his joys and his fears.
It is in New Zealand that anger, the third stage of mourning, is most expressed. After hours of hiking through country and mountainous landscapes, and long moments of hitchhiking solitude, throbbing physical pain ends up weakening Marine. But this pain is wanted, even hoped for: “I became paranoid, I needed to feel my body for fear that it escapes me. I sometimes spoke to my toe, my thumb or my elbow.” The young woman n ‘Do not forget his humor … The first stage of his journey ends with a cry of the heart: “nique la se!”
In Burma, she confronts her own silence by isolating herself in a monastery for fifteen days. She will spend her days meditating to get to know herself better, refocus on herself and, above all, live with her loneliness. Finally in Mongolia, after having participated in a transhumance, she passes the end of her trip to the Tsaatan, Turkish people of Rennes breeders in the north of the country. Acceptance finally occurs. She decides not to “fuck the sep”, but to live with.
Then appears the character of Rosy, whom she almost ends up loving. Back in France, she admits: “All that was for you, Rosy.”