Jonathan Ali talks to director Maxime Jean-Baptiste (born to Guianese and French parents) about his first feature, Kouté vwa (Listen to the Voices)
In French Guiana in 2012, Lucas Diomar — a young musician and DJ — was the tragic victim of murder. This event continues to be a source of grief for Lucas’ mother Nicole, and Lucas’ best friend Yannick.
In the summer of 2023, Nicole’s young grandson Melrick comes from his home in France to spend the summer with his grandmother. As time passes, Nicole, Yannick, and Melrick find themselves dealing with the loss of Lucas in different ways.
Directed by Lucas’ cousin Maxime Jean-Baptiste, and interweaving documentary with fiction, Kouté vwa (Listen to the Voices) is a poignant, often lyrical meditation on the aftereffects of violence — particularly a violence rooted in a colonial context.
Born in Paris to Guianese and French parents and based in Brussels, Maxime Jean-Baptiste spoke with Jonathan Ali about his accomplished first feature.
How close were you to your cousin Lucas?
Lucas and I were close as kids; we were the same age. He was a mirror to me. When he died in 2012, something broke inside of me. I felt a lot of rage. In 2018, I attended a film residency and shared a rough edit of video archives dealing with Lucas’ death — featuring protest marches on the street, and Lucas’ drumming band playing during the funeral ceremony. After showing the edit I couldn’t speak and decided that I should make a longer version of it.
When did you approach your aunt Nicole with the idea of the film?
When I first came back to Guiana eight years after Lucas’ murder, I started to get close to Nicole and understand her pain. At first it was not easy. She was resistant toward the idea of creating a film from this story. In 2022, she decided to organise a tribute to Lucas on the 10th anniversary of his death, and I suggested that we will film it. Even if the experience was hard, she understood progressively what we were doing. She saw the importance of telling this story.
The film deals with real events and real people, but was scripted by yourself and your sister, Audrey Jean-Baptiste.
Yes. The 2022 film shoot was raw material, to build on during the writing process, and create a more fictional tale based on reality. We decided to write the film as if it was a coming-of-age film, highlighting Melrick’s gaze. That permitted us to add life, spontaneity, and laughter around the heart of the film: the tragedy of Lucas’ death. As for Nicole, her story is complex, and I wanted to let the audience know it in her own words. Still, there was a precise set-up to create a way for Nicole to tell her story.
During the process, I discovered that I was reproducing a system that could at some point destroy myself and my relationships with Nicole, Melrick and Yannick
In what ways did the traumatic nature of the subject matter shape the film?
In cinema — both fiction and documentary — there is now much talk about ethics, and the impact a film can have not only on the actors and participants, but the crew as well. The film goes to festivals, the director is touring the world, but the participants are sometimes more traumatised after having re-plunged into their traumas.
It actually took me a lot of time to see this. The first versions of the script were quite violent. During the process, I discovered that I was reproducing a system that could at some point destroy myself and my relationships with Nicole, Melrick and Yannick. I had to stop and stay very close to the participants and the relationships I have with them. We had to listen to the voices of the protagonists ourselves. Nicole is now very proud of the film, and when the occasion of a screening occurs in Guiana, she will be there to talk about it.
What was the premiere of the film there like?
The film touched a lot of people when it premiered in Guiana. I felt it. It was opening up possibilities of living with such a loss. And I think that this is a new stage for Nicole in her healing process. On the other hand, Yannick’s storyline is much more unresolved. He is still traumatised, and the film sort of reopened the wound. But it cannot heal it. It will take a lot of time. A film cannot save the world. But it can reopen wounds in order for us to see them, for us to listen to them.
Kouté vwa (Listen to the Voices) • 2024
Maxime Jean-Baptiste
Belgium, France, French Guiana • 77 minutes