Emmenez-moi

After being on welfare for seven years, being “inadaptable to the workplace,” living in insalubrious conditions, and now in his fifties, Jean-Claude is certain of only one thing: if he’s managed to hold it together all this time, it’s no accident but thanks to his idol, his god… Charles Aznavour! He knows all the singer’s songs by heart. Charles has dictated Jean-Claude’s behavior at every important moment in his life: he joined the Foreign Legion after seeing “Un Taxi pour Tobrouk,” and even sang “La Mamma” when his own mother died. Jean-Claude decides that it’s high time he thanked Charles for all the support and comfort the singer has provided during the intense moments of his life. It comes to him, just like that, one morning. And, because he’s scared of being intimidated, of fumbling his words, he records his message of thanks on video. Benoît, his nephew, is behind the camera.

Once this declaration of love is in the bag, it becomes obvious to Jean-Claude that he must personally deliver the video to Charles. He’s going to do it by foot: Roubaix to Paris, that’s only 400 miles. After all, it’s been ages since he’s had any exercise. Benoît, who accompanies him, decides to film his uncle during his “pilgrimage.” Night and day, he records everything, almost forgets to sleep: the meeting with Arsène, an unemployed West Indian man, Boris the garbageman – a small, kind of half-witted guy who begins every sentence with “In any case.” Henceforth, they are a team of four wending their way from Roubaix to Paris. Buoyed by Aznavour’s songs, their journey is dotted with all kinds of encounters and interminable discussions about the Great Charles who, or so Jean-Claude says, will welcome them with open arms in Paris. “And when I tell you something’s for sure, I don’t mean maybe.” —UniFrance