Isabelle Osborne
Colette documents 90-year-old Colette Marin-Catherine’s visit to Mittelbau-Dora, the German concentration camp where her brother died after being caught working as part of the French Resistance during the Second World War. After 74 years of refusing to travel to Germany, history student Lucie Fouble joins Colette on her remarkable journey to the camp, a journey that forces her to both confront painful truths and consider how one can move forward after grief.
The Oscar-winning documentary opens with Colette, now 92, in her flat, speaking to a pigeon on her windowsill: “Don’t tell me you’re scared. No, you’re not afraid. You don’t seem to be suffering.” Her observation captures the essence of the journey Colette is due to take us on, traversing the experience of fear and closure as she breaks her resolute vow to never return to Germany.
At 17, Jean-Pierre was arrested by the Nazis and taken to the Mittelbau-Dora concentration camp near Nordhausen, Germany. Of the 60,000 people who passed through the camp between 1943 and 1945, 20,000 died; Jean-Pierre passed away three weeks before American troops liberated the camp.
“The form of Colette allows us to follow her on her journey to Mittelbau-Dora through both an observatory and experiential angle, making the documentary both understated and profound as it captures Colette’s visit”
Throughout the documentary, Colette paints a beautiful picture of her late brother, describing him as a ‘genius’, ‘charming’ and ‘handsome’. His role with the resistance was stockpiling weapons; a former French resistance member herself, Colette describes working with the resistance as ‘playing cat and mouse’, a game only one per cent of the French population actively played following the Nazi occupation in 1940.
Real-life emotional turmoil
The form of Colette allows us to follow her on her journey to Mittelbau-Dora through both an observatory and experiential angle, making the documentary both understated and profound as it captures Colette’s visit as it takes place in a candid, raw and honest manner to offer a glimpse into the emotional turmoil of re-living the reality of a loved one’s death in such horrific circumstances.
The way Colette narrates her thoughts whilst walking through the camp is immensely moving. There is, however, a sort of poetic eloquence to the dark, sinister reflections she makes: “If these hills could talk, I think we’d hear screams,” she says. The camp exercised slave labour for the making of armaments, including the development of the V-2; we are told more people died building the weapon than through deployment. Seeing the ‘metal carcass’ of the bomb on display in the underground tunnels, Colette captures the horror of the experience in one word: ‘monstrous’.
Reflecting on unparalleled tragedy
As she takes in her surroundings, Colette’s recognition that “This was the end for you” asks us to reflect on the unparalleled tragedy that Jean-Pierre’s death represents, a young life of such promise lost in a futile, horrific war enacted in response to a detestable vision for world domination. Taking on the voice of her mother, Colette tells us that if she were there she would say “I didn’t bring you into the world to suffer like this.” Colette’s mother is a recurring figure in the documentary, the most memorable moment being when Colette admits her mother claimed “It should have been you” following Jean-Pierre’s capture. A passing comment by her mother, whether holding any truth or not, struck a chord within Colette, highlighting how the documentary explores multiple angles of memory and suffering, not only in relation to external tragedies but additionally private, internal battles that remain unspoken but intensely felt.
“Whilst the journey was Colette’s final act of resistance, it was the start of Lucie’s journey to continue telling these stories”
The Bertha DocHouse & The Guardian screening of Colette, broadcasted shortly ahead of the Oscar ceremony, was followed by a live Q&A with director Anthony Giacchino and producer Alice Doyard. Giacchino described Lucie’s inclusion within the documentary as a continuation of the resistance that Colette herself was involved in; whilst the journey was Colette’s final act of resistance, it was the start of Lucie’s journey to continue telling these stories.
Building trust
When discussing the inception of the documentary, Giacchino confirms they would never have forced Colette to take this journey unless it made sense to her and held meaning for her. Doyard added it was a long conversation, and solidified by building a ‘bond of trust’. This bond of trust is translated throughout the documentary, most notably between Lucie and Colette, who were strangers before the documentary was made. Doyard spoke of the sense of solidarity between the women, and how deeply they cared for one another during their journey. In a poignant moment whereby Colette offers Lucie a ring Jean-Pierre made for his mother yet never had time to finish engraving, we see the impression both women have left on the other; brought together by pain, yet united in their desire to preserve the memory of the millions of Jean-Pierre’s who did not survive to see the end of the war.
During the Q&A, Giacchino reflected on a team photo of Colette, Lucie and the crew, claiming ‘for me, this is a family photo’: the generational perspective the documentary exhibits – Colette, the memory of Jean-Pierre in the place he died, Lucie, the film crew bringing their journey to the screen and, by extension, the viewers of the documentary – offers a conclusive sentiment that the terrors of the Nazi dictatorship are not something that should or can be forgotten, but are preserved within us through survivor testimony, the memories of those who lost their lives, and future generations of people dedicated to keeping the memory of the period alive.
Finding light in the darkness
As Colette and Lucie sit together in the final scene, Colette ponders ‘Who knows if birds are not a collection of all our sorrows’, before telling us ‘Maybe Jean-Pierre is telling us he’s happy’: such concludes Colette’s remarkable journey and demonstrates that, even in the most tragic of experiences, light can always be found in the dark.
Premiering a month before the world trembled into the pandemic and winning its Oscar award a little over a year later, Colette is not only a story of the Second World War, but offers a multigenerational glimpse into the ways in which humans process grief, suffering and trauma. It is a story experienced by millions of survivors of the war period and shared through countless books, films and survivor testimonies, yet Colette brings an understated beauty that allows viewers to witness a brave, courageous and strong woman’s intimate, moving and private experience.
Featured Image courtesy of Nemesia Production on Unsplash. Image license can be found here. No changes were made to the image.
Isabelle Osborne
Isabelle Osborne is currently reading English at University College London. She is an active member of the UCL student journalist community, and has experience in marketing and communications, blogging, copywriting and content creation and radio broadcasting.