On the Adamant

It's a delicate diamond work. It might seem slow, but it all is real. You observe people with mental disabilities in one of the neighborhoods in Paris, France. You're there and with them.

This movie gives viewers the feeling of being in that place. You teleport yourself to the same room where you stand alongside the clients of the Adamant. Participating in the same group meeting, drawing together the same pictures, speaking about the people you met yesterday, etc. You are there with everybody and immersed in the life of the boat and its dwellers.

The presentation of people with mental disabilities sometimes tricks us into some cliches such as craziness, uncontrol, weirdness, etc. Here we have an advantage in seeing the truth of this universe. It's a special communication between the crew and the characters; it's a special attitude of all actors involved; and it's the innocence of people who want to be included and the openness of people who sincerely want to guide them.

Every person is involved in the conversation, even the viewers. We participate indirectly. You can feel the vibe and you listen to the heart of the Adamant.

Overall, I understand why the jury in Berlin stands with this movie as the 2023 winner. It is a diamond work that accompanies you as an observer of the reality of people with mental disabilities and how others try to help them in one particular place in the big world of Paris. At the same time, the breathtaking artistry of cinematography and narrative lines built on the flow gives you quite real goosebumps. I'm there and with them, and it's all beautiful.

Highly recommended to watch!

On the Adamant

"Sur l'Adamant" is not a conventional documentary. Like his colleagues Frederick Wiseman and Raymond Depardon, director Nicolas Philibert has a quality of vision, and a modesty too, that keeps him off the beaten track.

In this case, Philibert chooses to tell us about patients being treated for mental disorders by taking the scenic route. To begin with, he spares us the cold walls of psychiatric hospitals and the speeches of therapists, not that they are uninteresting but necessarily coming from people who « know better ». On the contrary, Philibert insists on keeping to the human level, presenting us with real people, not 'patients', i.e. Beings confined to their illness. Muriel, François, Sébastien, Frédéric and the others are certainly a little strange, a little offbeat, but they are people in their own right, who can feel, think, have a sense of humour and create. Perhaps it's even this offbeat aspect that allows us to sweep our brains clean and chase away our preconceived notions of 'madness'. You'll be pleasantly surprised by the lightness and whimsy atmosphere that emanate from 'Sur l'Adamant' - despite an inevitable undercurrent of seriousness linked to the mental condition of the participants.

This magic is also due to the place where this small community of patients and therapists meet, with as little hierarchy as possible: a wooden barge, The Adamant, built specifically to house a day-care centre. On this floating hospital annex, the treatment of nervous disorders is particularly atypical in that patients and caregivers are 'co-authors' of their care. People feel encouraged there to exchange ideas, take part in physical, artistic and/or cultural activities. Some even gather to do the association's accounts.

Nicolas Philibert, who has an uncanny ability to plunge us into a vibrant community of activity ("La Ville Louvre", "Être et avoir", "La Maison de la Radio"), once again propels us into the heart of a group, which astonishes and delights us.

Without adding the slightest commentary, filming with simplicity, the documentary-maker makes us friends with people who are funny (like the inimitable Muriel Thourond), confusing, poetic, lucid (when they are under treatment) and artistic (the beautiful painting of a painter's daughter, the musician who plays the electric guitar very well, Frédéric Prieur, the writer of songs and other kinds fiction with whimsical theories but undeniable talent).

A little masterpiece of humanism, tenderness and humour, the antithesis of 'Snake Pit', 'Shock Corridor' or 'One Flew Over a Cuckoo's Nest', or rather their direct complement.

"L'Adamant" is waiting for you. Come and join the club.

The film is a portrait of the L'Adamant Day Center in Paris. This is a floating building located at the foot of the Charles de Gaulle Bridge on the right bank of the Seine. The unique daycare center welcomes adults with mental disorders from the first four arrondissements of Paris. It offers patients a daily routine that is structured in terms of time and space and helps them to regain their footing in everyday life with therapeutic workshops and psychosocial rehabilitation support. The Adamant team consists of psychiatrists, psychologists, nurses, occupational therapists, specialist educators, psychomotor specialists, care coordinators, hospital staff, and various external artists and art therapists.

The Adamant is a most admirable philosophy and program in action by France. But the accolades deserved by the documentarian's choice of study does not equate to accolades for their work. Audiences should not confuse the two. Nicolas Philibert had nothing to do with establishing or even operating The Adamant. He was there, filming it and its people is all.

Uneven. Many slow, even boring lulls, but also some undoubtedly intriguing scenes and sensitive portrayals of troubled minds.

Like in real life, I like my connections in depth. While trying to do the "unintrusive documentation" shtick has its purposes, some stories, like this one, deserve something more personal and less removed. It almost feels uncompassionate and neglectful at times, selectively skimming their stories from behind an invisible wall, randomly inserting interrogations in the disconcerting form of an unidentified voice asking interview questions.

Mad respect for those involved in the day to say operations on this floating refuge, as well as to the courageous individuals who agreed to be documented for surviving another day in the endless battle for meaningful life.