Abortion in Georgia: Between Terror, the Vanguard, and Denunciation

Despite its proud belonging to what we usually identify as hard-line auteur cinema (long fixed shots, respect for real time, poetic images, serious tone of speech, tendency towards a certain crypticism...), at certain moments ofApril There are connections to other film genres. In fact, this story about a gynecologist in crisis and under suspicion in Georgia begins as a horror film: the mysterious presence of a ghostly figure functions as an allegory for the fear of the body; perhaps about decisions about one's own body seen as monstrous by certain outside eyes.

It also touches on April with a certain branch freelance of science fiction: in its most dreamlike fragments, those of the muddy woman, it seems to propose—perhaps thanks to Matthew Herbert's suggestive soundtrack—escapes to other (inner?) worlds. And, despite having a message that is far removed from the usual approaches of social cinema, April It is also a film of denunciation (it seems a more uncomfortable and more experimental variant of titles like The Secret of Vera Drake, 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days either The event).

It's all very well that avant-garde cinema doesn't forget that art often also serves to stir consciences. Another debate, which would be pertinent in this case, is whether the chosen forms are truly daring, inspired, and extreme, or are, in fact, more obvious, literal, flat, and ineffective than the filmmaker would intend.