The world of documentary filmmaking has lost a true visionary. Gilles Blais, a pioneering director whose lens captured the complexities of society, has passed away at 84. His death, announced by the National Film Board of Canada (NFB) on October 17th, leaves behind a legacy of thought-provoking films that challenged perspectives and sparked conversations. But here's where it gets even more fascinating: Blais wasn't just a filmmaker; he was a societal observer, using his craft to shed light on issues both local and global, often tackling controversial topics head-on.
Suzanne Guèvremont, government film commissioner and chairperson of the NFB, aptly described Blais as “a thoughtful filmmaker who was deeply attentive to his subjects, known and appreciated for his great respect and patience.” These qualities, she noted, made him a “remarkable director.”
Blais’s career at the NFB spanned over three decades (1965–1997), during which he crafted documentaries that were both prescient and poignant. Take, for instance, his 1971 film Water, Water Everywhere…, a stark portrayal of ocean pollution that featured a haunting underwater scene of a trout dying in contaminated water. This film, ahead of its time, remains a powerful reminder of environmental fragility.
And this is the part most people miss: Blais wasn’t afraid to dive into contentious issues. His 1979 documentary Sophie Wollock’s Newspaper gave a voice to English-speaking Quebecers opposing the Quebec nationalism movement, a perspective often overshadowed in the broader narrative. He revisited this theme in 1997 with Le Grand Silence, which examined the divisive 1995 referendum on Quebec’s potential separation from Canada. Was Blais merely documenting history, or was he subtly advocating for unity? That’s a question worth debating.
Beyond Quebec, Blais explored global themes. His 1991 drama Joseph K. – The Numbered Man warned of the dangers of domestic surveillance, a topic that feels eerily relevant today. Born in 1941 in Rimouski, Quebec, Blais began his career as an assistant cameraman on films like In The Labyrinth (1967) and Beluga Days (1968), before stepping into the director’s chair with The Netsilik Eskimo Today (1971), a poignant look at an Inuit family in Canada’s Arctic.
Blais’s impact extended beyond Canada. From 1971 to 1974, he launched a video unit in Tunisia, and in 1977, he served as a production advisor for eight films on human settlements in Africa for the United Nations Conference. His NFB credits also include The Port of Montreal (1975), Soils of Canada (1978), The Followers (1981), and Les Illusions Tranquilles (1984).
In 1994, Blais directed The Engagement, a heartwarming story of intellectually challenged performers staging a theater production in France. Even after leaving the NFB, he continued to create impactful work, such as Conventum (2005), which celebrated the 50th anniversary of Quebec’s Quiet Revolution, a movement that challenged the long-standing dominance of the Catholic Church in the province.
Gilles Blais’s films were more than just documentaries; they were conversations starters, inviting viewers to question, reflect, and engage. As we remember his contributions, it’s worth asking: How do we ensure that filmmakers like Blais continue to have a platform to address the pressing issues of our time? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s keep the dialogue alive.
