Executive Overview

At the intersection of meditative cinema and ecological reflection lies D’ici là (From Here to There), the latest feature by French auteur Sarah Leonor. Premiering at the Locarno Film Festival, the gentle triptych drama serves as both an artistic retreat and a profound philosophical inquiry into the human relationship with the natural world. Set against the rugged, verdant backdrop of the Vosges mountains in eastern France, the film deliberately steps away from conventional narrative tropes, inviting audiences to idle, observe, and absorb the rhythms of a landscape that acts as both a character and a sanctuary.

Structured across three distinct chapters—autumn, winter, and spring—D’ici là traces the lives of individuals navigating profound personal crossroads, societal burnout, and the inexorable passage of time. Through a meticulous aesthetic that transitions from the sparse, diegetic sounds of raw wilderness to the increasingly populated and musically accompanied human sphere, Leonor constructs an cinematic "empathy machine." The film challenges the rigid boundaries of traditional filmmaking, opting instead for a sensory immersion that lingers long after the credits roll.

Detailed Chronology: The Three Chapters of D’ici là

Autumn: Lucien and the Retreat to the Wild

The film opens with a soft melody interwoven with the rustling of leaves and birdsong, framed through a three-pane window—one panel shattered—before opening up to an unimpeded vista of nature. This visual motif establishes the central thesis of Sarah Leonor’s work: humanity’s fractured, mediated view of the environment versus the raw, encompassing reality of the outdoors.

In the opening chapter, Lucien (played by Frank Beauvais) has retreated deep into the Vosges forest to live off the land. Having left behind the societal rat race, he tells his supportive girlfriend, Laura (Laetitia Dosch)—who has journeyed into the wilderness to find him after a self-imposed one-month deadline—of his profound disillusionment.

"Career change, qualifications, options, I can’t stand those words anymore, Laura," Lucien confesses. When asked what words might replace them, he offers a simple alternative: "A good reason to get up in the morning."

This initial segment romanticizes solitude and the radical act of opting out of modern pressures, utilizing minimal dialogue and relying entirely on natural soundscapes to heighten the sensual connection between the viewer and the wilderness.

Winter: Aline, Obsession, and Impermanence

As the seasons shift to winter, the narrative transitions to Aline (Dinara Droukarova), whose relationship with nature is defined less by ascetic escape and more by quiet observation and scientific curiosity. Using wildlife trail cameras, Aline tracks a local wolf population. Her personal life is marked by deliberate distance: she declines to visit her traveling partner, Martin (David Faivre), and receives unsettling news regarding an upcoming medical appointment that leaves her future health uncertain.

Aline’s birthday is designated by her friends as an "un-birthday," a refusal to mark time in the conventional societal manner. Through Aline’s story, the Vosges mountains shift from a purely pastoral sanctuary to a complex ecosystem charged with tension, mirroring her internal anxieties about aging, health, and impermanence.

Spring: Jade, Departures, and the Human World

By spring, the film expands its scope to encompass youth, transitions, and the inevitable pull of the broader human world. Teenager Jade (Louiza Aura) is preparing to leave her rural home for university in Paris, while her boyfriend, Théo (Dimitri Doré), harbors dreams of emigrating to Canada.

This final chapter introduces a higher density of characters—growing from three in the autumnal segment to roughly seven in the winter and ten by spring. Alongside this demographic expansion, the film’s sonic landscape shifts. The quiet diegetic sounds of rustling wind and flowing streams are gradually accompanied by musical scores, signaling a return to civilization. The narrative touches upon localized conflicts, such as the hostility directed toward a transient man who breaks into local homes for food, highlighting the friction that occurs when human desperation collides with rural insularity.

Supporting Context & Metrics: Aesthetics, Influences, and Themes

The Metaphor of the Seed

Throughout D’ici là, Leonor employs a structural metaphor of growth and dispersion. The characters and their trajectories act as scattered seeds:

• Lucien represents the initial planting—choosing a valley and intentionally putting down roots in isolation.
• Aline embodies the complex, sometimes precarious process of growth, navigating the vulnerabilities of health and time.
• Jade reflects the ultimate majesty of maturity and the necessary, often painful departure from one’s origins.

Cinematic Comparisons and Soundscapes

Leonor’s deliberate minimalism and reliance on environmental acoustics draw strong thematic parallels to contemporary cinematic explorations of quietude. Notably, the film evokes comparisons to Swedish director Mikael Lypinski and Danish director Kasper Bisgaard’s 2025 documentary, The End of Quiet. That film explored the fading acoustic sanctuary of Green Bank, West Virginia—home to the world’s largest radio telescope and once designated a near-total "Quiet Zone" free from cellular and digital interference, prior to deregulation.

Similarly, D’ici là uses the absence of artificial musical cues in its early acts to force the audience to listen to nature on its own terms. As the narrative progresses from the isolated forest canopy to doctor’s surgeries, farmland, and small-town homes, the encroaching presence of music mirrors humanity’s inability to fully divorce itself from societal noise.

Official Statements & Critical Reception

In her director’s notes, Sarah Leonor articulated the core philosophical ambition behind D’ici là:

"The film conveys how we absorb the essence or spirit of the place we grow up in, and it becomes part of us."

This foundational idea explains the gentle, unhurried pacing of the narrative. Rather than driving forward through high-stakes plot twists, Leonor prioritizes atmospheric resonance, asking audiences to yield their attention to the internal lives of her characters.

Film critics at the Locarno Film Festival have noted the courageous defiance of the film’s structure. In an era dominated by hyper-paced narratives designed for immediate consumer gratification, D’ici là risks alienating viewers through its patient, unapologetic demand for contemplation. Drawing on American film critic Roger Ebert’s famous definition of cinema as an "empathy machine," reviewers have observed that Leonor extends this empathy not merely to her human subjects, but to the natural landscape itself—framing the environment not as a static backdrop, but as a living participant in the human drama.

Future Outlook: The Legacy of D’ici là

As D’ici là completes its festival circuit and looks toward broader international distribution, its long-term impact on contemporary French arthouse cinema appears assured. Sarah Leonor has crafted a work that challenges the conservative traditions of narrative filmmaking, favoring emotional and spiritual resonance over conventional exposition.

For audiences willing to surrender to its slow-burning rhythm, the film offers a profound meditation on ecological stewardship, personal reinvention, and the bittersweet nature of departures. It stands as a reminder that just as nature requires careful cultivation, human attention is a finite resource that must be directed with intention. D’ici là may be a film that audiences appreciate progressively over time rather than consume impulsively, cementing Leonor’s reputation as one of contemporary European cinema’s most sensitive and uncompromising voices.