Written by Andreas Babiolakis

This review is a part of the Palme d’Or Project: a review of every single Palme d’Or winner at Cannes Film Festival. The Long Absence won the seventh Palme d’Or at the 1961 festival, which it shared with Viridiana.

The film was selected by the following jury.
Jury President: Jean Giono.
Vice President: Sergei Yutkevich.
Jury: Pedro Armendáriz, Luigi Chiarini, Tonino Delli Colli, Claude Mauriac, Edouard Molinaro, Jean Paulhan, Raoul Ploquin, Liselotte Pulver, Fred Zinnemann.

We’ve reached our first of numerous tied winners in Cannes’ history, and it will frequently feel difficult to not compare the two films that won (usually because one film has endured a far greater legacy than the other, and you will find this happen again and again. Is Henri Colpi’s The Long Absence as good as Luis Buñuel’s Viridiana? No, but it’s also a shame that the former has had to live in the shadow of the latter, because in this very first tied win for the Palme d’Or that I’m covering (excluding the many Grand Prix winners of the ‘40s or the Grand Prix ties of the ‘50s), the “lesser” film is still something quite beautiful, and it’s frankly under appreciated. Colpi would go on to work with Alain Resnais (as an editor) on a number of films about the recollection of one’s past via the faintness of memories, including Last Year at Marienbad and Hiroshima Mon Amour, but these feel like thematic similarities for what he would attempt for his directorial debut. The Long Absence is a lot more literal than these other two classics, but it isn’t any less affecting.

In short, a bar owner, Thérèse, comes across a vagabond that is plagued by amnesia and cannot remember who he is or where he came from. Thérèse is convinced that this is her long lost husband that vanished around World War II, but he isn’t convinced. The Long Absence plays a slow and steady lullaby to try and unite these two hearts together, especially because one is a rejuvenated soul that has found her life partner after so long, and yet the other feels nothing despite a possible history. What is love, and how attached to nostalgia, yearning, and our memories is it? That’s what Colpi tries to get to the bottom of in this feature, even with some uncomfortable realities at the forefront. If love isn’t reciprocated, do you love this person any less? Do you actually find yourself loving them more? Does Thérèse love again because of her possible husband’s return, or was the love always there? In an hour and a half, your mind and heart will be racing to find answers, but they sometimes just don’t matter.

The Long Absence is over and done with before you even blink, but you may find yourself wondering about it for a while after you are finished. What would you do in Thérèse’s position? I find a modern version of this story to be the brilliant Away From Her by Sarah Polley which digs deeper into such a premise even deeper, but The Long Absence is still a great take on what love is when it is tested by that of which neither party can control. The final act is one that breaks my heart to watch, and this alone makes the entire feature a must-see for those that are curious; sometimes your best attempts to win back someone aren’t enough, and yet you can safely say that you have spent time with the love of your life once more (albeit a possible final time). There’s a bit of a catch at the very end, but it’s the final cherry on top that Colpi provides on this ambiguous sundae. The Long Absence is a film that has been ignored over time, but I think it’s special enough to warrant a try. It’s short enough to catch at any moment, and it works on such an emotional level that I think it will win you over as well.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.