Simon (Gabin Verdet) is a young man who meets an unfortunate fate one morning after a surfing expedition, finding himself involved in a fatal car accident that leaves him in a severe coma. The doctors have little doubt that Simon won’t recover, as he is past the point where he can wake up. His parent (Emmanuelle Seigner and Kool Shen) are confronted with the sudden and untimely death of their son, trying to rationalize the tragedy and find some solace. They’re also given an option that initially unsettles them – as a young man, Simon was in perfect health, and should the parents approve, his organs would be given to those who are in desperate need of help themselves. The beneficiary is Claire (Anne Dorval), who is inching closer to death as a result of her degenerative heart disease that is slowly consuming her, leaving her days numbered. Yet, her salvation unknowingly comes in the form of Simon and his heart, with his death allowing Claire to continue living. Caught between the two individuals are a group of medical professionals who have to reconcile their careers with their emotional connection to these situations, often finding it excruciatingly difficult to understand that life, no matter how much we tend to think we understand it, is entirely unexpected. Whether it’s the doctors that perform the surgery or the people on the front-line who dedicate their lives solely to helping the mourners through these exceptionally difficult time, everyone tends to be affected by the loss, whether directly or through mere association, and situations like this aren’t easy for anyone involved.

Heal the Living (French: Réparer les vivants) is a remarkable achievement in every sense of the word. There aren’t many films that deliver exactly what this film promises, and from the outset, when we are submerged into the beautifully complex world that director Katell Quillévéré presents to us, we know that what we are seeing is going to be special. This is by no means an easy film – filled with heartbreak and despair, Heal the Living is a quiet character-study that is often extraordinarily difficult to approach, especially considering the very grim subject matter that often flirts with misery, but always deftly avoids it, finding the optimism in even the most unfortunate of situations. It is a beautiful ode to the human condition, crafted with meticulous attention to detail by a filmmaker who prioritizes telling these intersecting stories with conviction and honesty, never allowing the film to be overcome by false sentimentality or inauthentic emotion – it’s a deeply compelling piece of storytelling, with every emotion being entirely genuine and earnest. Heal the Living is a film that will challenge every viewer, daring us to reconsider some aspect of our life, especially through its steadfast portrayal of life and death in the starkest terms, and in the process manages to be a remarkably moving celebration of life. Quillévéré finds the beauty in tragedy, and demonstrates that even in the most harrowing of situations, there is always the possibility of hope, should we surrender ourselves to the fact that everything, good and bad, tends to happen for a reason.

The structure of Heal the Living is distinctive insofar as it never focuses on one particular character, but rather on a shifting population of individuals united under one goal, despite being unaware of it. The film takes the form of an unconventional anthology – the first half is focused on Simon, his death and how his parents not only have to grieve him, but also make the rapid decision as to whether or not they will authorize the doctors to harvest his organs for donation. The second half focuses on the woman who receives his heart, despite not knowing who or where it comes from (there is beautiful commentary in the idea of two people from seemingly different backgrounds and demographics sharing the most fundamental of organs), and how she herself confronts the threat of death, being caught between the ambivalence of realizing that everyone has their time, and the realization that her bleak way of thinking and willingness to surrender to a terminal disease will put her two young sons, who desperately need her, in an unfortunate position. This is a film about difficult decisions, with each character in the film being forced to engage with situations that are quite literally matters of life and death. The intersections between the two stories take the form of the doctors who execute the various procedures, and (in the beautiful final moments of the film), with the transfer of the heart from the dead to the living, executed with such sincere precision, it would be impossible to deny the gravity of this scene, and how everything in this film built up to this moment of both tension and eventual catharsis.

The metaphorical meeting of the two characters in the final moments of the film is unquestionably powerful, and brings this intricate and detailed story of human resilience full circle, with as simple an image of a woman waking up from surgery, and realizing that she has been granted another chance at life. Heal the Living is almost entirely driven by the characters, who propel the film forward and allow it to flourish – without this exceptional ensemble, it’s likely that the film just would not have succeeded quite as well as it did. There isn’t a definitive central character in the film, but rather a set of characters who find themselves interacting over the course of a few days, unknowingly playing a pivotal part in the lives of every other individual this film presents us with. Tahar Rahim is excellent as Thomas, the man tasked with coordinating the organ transplant. What would have normally been a thankless role that exists purely as a representation of the bureaucracy is rather repurposed as a beautifully empathetic performance by a young actor, whose sympathy in this part is unparalleled – Rahim is given a moment towards the end of the film, where he speaks to the comatose Simon, tenderly telling him how his family and friends love him, before taking him off life support, that stands as one of the most emotional moments ever captured on screen. The entire cast is tremendous, regardless of the size of their roles. Emmanuelle Seigner demonstrates true sincerity as a mother grieving the loss of her son, and Bouli Lanners as the doctor who has the difficult responsibility of guiding her through the process.

The strengths of Heal the Living rest solely on the shoulders of the cast, with each individual in the ensemble being pivotal to the story, and demonstrating remarkable restraint and depth, even in the most seeming-insignificant roles. Yet, it’s Anne Dorval who truly is the heart of the film – she may only make her entrance halfway through, but the moment she appears on screen, the audience is immediately captivated. Dorval possesses a certain striking quality to makes everything else in the scene disappear, with our focus being solely on her. Playing a woman conflicted between allowing nature to take its course, or accepting a second chance at life, despite her steadfast beliefs, Dorval quite simply delivers one of the greatest performances of the decade. This is by no means hyperbolic – her ability to command the screen, despite playing a very subtle character, is a testament not only to the brilliance of the film, but also her talents as an actress. She brings such depth to the role, and through combining the compassion imbued in this character by Quillévéré, and Dorval’s penchant for authenticity, makes this a truly natural performance. I dare anyone to look at the final scene of this film, where Claire wakes up from her surgery, and realizes that she has been granted another chance at life, and not be profoundly overcome with emotion. This is a very quiet performance, and Dorval once again demonstrates how she is capable of exceptional restraint, but everything this film intends to convey about life and death flows through Dorval’s work here. Even for an actress with the limitless talents as Dorval, her performance in Heal the Living was truly something to behold, and lingers on long after the film has ended.

What makes Heal the Living so astonishing is that while it does tell a profoundly human tale that is rooted heavily within realism, it doesn’t just concern itself with the specific story here, and engages with some of the broader themes, albeit in a way that is just as moving without ever being overwhelming. It’d be easy to say that Quillévéré was intent on exploring life and death, but every work of art tends to look at that concept in some way. Rather, it’s how the film focuses on life that makes it so compelling – Heal the Living takes on two different narrative avenues. The first is one that looks at major events, such as a particular tragedy and its aftermath, where the director demonstrates these moments with a blend of empathy and steadfast commitment to portraying them as close to reality as possible (the climactic surgeries are executed with almost documentary-like precision). The second, and the more noteworthy part of this film, occurs when Quillévéré looks at the moments in between these events – the intricate details of daily life, especially in the wake of a great tragedy, is explored, with the director intending to show that life is not merely composed of enormous occurrences, but smaller situations, and its normally in these moments when our resilience is put to the test. Quillévéré’s empathetic approach serves this film well, and allows it to explore the small complexities of everyday life through focusing on the minutiae that may be internalized, but are no less distinctive in how we operate as individuals.

The allegorical core of Heal the Living is very distinct and lends it the credence to be one of the most touching explorations of the human condition ever conveyed on film. Through focusing on different individuals that are linked in unexpected ways, Quillévéré constructs a meaningful film that gets to the root of our shared existence, showing the while we may be individuals, we can’t be solely independent, and the human bonds we form, whether intentional or inadvertent, are as important to your survival as the heart around which this film is structured. Heal the Living is a film quite simply about connections, both intentional and fateful. This is less of a film structured around a heart transplant as it is a story of a dozen individuals that are connected in unexpected ways, becoming a part of the lives of others without even realizing it. This is where the film momentarily suspends the tragedy and presents us with a hopeful scenario – the film begins with a tragedy and ends in a triumph, represented in two very stark images: Simon falling asleep, and Claire waking up. It’s a beautiful allegory for how intrinsically related we are, and one that the director deftly avoids overstating, allowing it to quietly enter into the mind of the viewer as we realize the intention of the film was not to be a celebration of the marvels of modern medicine, but a deeply human story about finding the hope in even the most heartbreaking of situations.

Heal the Living is one of the most remarkable films of the decade – it’s something that focuses on concepts as intimidating as life and death, but still manages to be an intimate character study, is truly astounding, and proves that this is a special film. Quillévéré’s work here is undeniably poignant, taking us on a journey into the roots of the human spirit where we can be witness to a set of characters and their intersecting lives. This is a layered film, but never feels overwhelming, with the most effective moments not coming in the broad strokes of triumph or tragedy, but rather in the smaller, more intimate moments of extraordinary insight into the mind of ordinary people, who are here shown to be resilient, hardworking, and most importantly, authentic. This film is a beautiful ode to the fragility of life, conveying the reality that tragedies do occur, but life does go on – the end for one signals the beginning for another, and while that is a difficult concept to understand, especially because we’d tend to focus on the more harrowing content of the film, rather than the steady hopefulness that it provides at the end, it all forms a beautifully complex mosaic of life as it is. Devastating and heartwrenching, but not without its moments of sincere joy and optimism towards the strengths of humanity, Heal the Living is a beautiful little film about enormous issues that still feels intimate, even when taking on the most intimidating of issues, and it never falters in its pursuit of representing the limitless bounds of the human spirit.