The film opens with an excerpt from a 1961 article in “France Soir”, recalling a decade of social unrest fuelled by rock music, echoing debates between sociologists and psychiatrists, then leaving readers to decide for themselves. François Reichenbach adopts the same approach in À la mémoire du rock, leaving viewers and their sensibilities to weigh up the phenomenon for themselves. A poetic portrait of young people giving in to the power of early rock, the film kicks off at the wellspring of freedom of expression and frenzied crowds: the large concert hall, namely, the Palais des Sports, where a “Massive Rock Superparty” is taking place. The names of famous rock stars might feature in the credits and technical spec, (Johnny Hallyday, Vince Taylor and Les Chaussettes noires), but we see them without recognising them; they are not the centre of attention. Even the music seems distant – this is not Reichenbach’s main concern; he prefers to stimulate our senses differently, going to the heart of the act of observing, or observing right at the heart of things, up close to the audience, scrutinizing the emotional youngsters who make up that audience. The film is shot through with a kind of melancholy: a dancer has hurt herself, youngsters are running on empty, adults are uneasy, the stars have left the stage… and so on to the end, since all this must come to an end, by dint of blows if need be, and everyone must go home. Boccherini’s String Quintet No. 5 plays to memories of dance and sweat; at the end of the ecstasy, a touch of pure joy recorded by Reichenbach.

Matthieu Grimault