Saying sorry, and doing so authentically, is not easy. But apologies can change relationships, and in the case of political apologies, can redefine history. Belgian filmmaker Kristof Bilsen’s documentary The Apologist, which he wrote, directed and produced, now explores what the act of atonement can do to victims, wrongdoers and witnesses alike – how it can reshape lives.
World premiering in the international competition at Sheffield DocFest, which runs June 10-15, on Thursday, June 11, the film feels timely in an age when not a day goes by without a well-known politician or figure issuing a public apology, being called on to provide an apology, or failing to apologize.
The hybrid doc, featuring actress Musia Mwankumi and actor Valentijn Dhaenens as they develop a play and explore the art and pitfalls of apologies, features cinematography by Joachim Philippe, Bilsen and Diren Agbaba, with editing by Luca Mattei and co-edited by Aaron Minnebo. It was co-written by Xan Márquez Caneda.
The result is an emotional cinematic journey across continents, events, personal and collective trauma and accountability that moves between personal reflection, performance and ritual. Bilsen worked on set with systemic trainer and supervisor Ria Verlinden to unearth how many things are connected and can not be seen in isolation. The doc also features such scientists as Professor Juliette Schaafsma of Tilburg University, who has catalogued political apologies since the Walk to Canossa in 1077, widely regarded as the first-ever public apology, and Professor Roland Zahn of King’s College London, whose research explores guilt and self-blame and their relationship with empathy and apology.
The Apologist is a production by Bilsen’s Limerick Films in co-production with Tangerine Tree, Warboys Films and Wrong Men. Limerick is handling sales.
Kristof Bilsen, courtesy of Anna Perger
“As a child, I was bullied, and the lack of resolution or apology still affects me. I never felt that things were truly resolved, let alone an apology was given and this continues to have an impact later in life,” Bilsen shares in a director’s statement. “This personal experience mirrors a broader societal trend, where many peoples and communities today are waiting for apologies, sometimes for events decades or centuries old.”
He adds: “In the context of current social movements like Black Lives Matter, #MeToo, and the colonial past’s reckoning, The Apologist addresses the timely question: Can public apologies lead to forgiveness, understanding, or change? … We challenge you to reconsider the meaning of apologies and set the stage for a deeper understanding of true reconciliation and acknowledgment.”
Check out a trailer for The Apologist here.
Ahead of Sheffield DocFest, Bilsen talked to The Hollywood Reporter about the six-year journey to make The Apologist, the weight of trauma and why saying sorry is much harder than it sounds.
What was the original idea for the film? You mention in the doc that you had to adjust its direction as your cinematic journey unfolded.
The initial idea was to make this very smart archive film based on public political apologies. But then it evolved from there.
What can you share about why you picked the title The Apologist for your doc?
I think halfway through the process, I realized the concept of apologies had this Christian religious connotation to it. And then, of course, there is also Plato’s Apology [or: The Apology of Socrates]. The whole notion of an apology is something beautiful, but at the same time, there is this whole irony of the title The Apologist, this kind of friction between self-awareness and defense.
How does The Apologist fit in with your past filmmaking?
My training is in deeply looking, observing and listening and being humble as a filmmaker, and I made my first two films that way.
My first one was Elephant’s Dream, which premiered in 2014 at IDFA in Amsterdam and was about public sector workers in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, a former Belgian colony. That was already very uncomfortable. Going to a former colony as a white male Belgian filmmaker, going there as the former oppressor in a way, or having that heritage of the oppressor.
My second film also premiered in Sheffield in 2019, and it is called Mother. It is about a Thai single mother giving care to Europeans with Alzheimer’s. That was a deep observation of the dilemma of love and care globally. What do we do with our elderly people here in Europe and how? We try to find them a better life, and one of the most absurd is to bring them to Thailand for their final years. How selfish! Again, that was an observation of friction and something very problematic in many ways, but also deeply human.
‘The Apologist’
Courtesy of Limerick Films
In the middle of COVID, I couldn’t observe [directly], so I thought I would observe archive material. It was the time of George Floyd, who died at the hands of police violence in the U.S., and the whole Black Lives Matter movement, which, sadly, some of us have already forgotten. And then I suddenly heard that our Belgian government said they should start a commission for the colonial past of Belgium with the ultimate goal of issuing apologies.
For me, performativity, insecurity, uncertainty, and all of that seemed to be coming together in one single image. And then I had to trust the process, which is pretty challenging with such a vast topic. So it took six years to make the film.
Was there any key lesson you had to learn in the process of production?
The big step for me was to let go of control of the project and the process. We live in a world that’s so binary about control – the good and the bad, the positioning. But what about the power of uncertainty and the dark and shadowy sides of all of us? So, a big moment was when I realized that a film about public apologies is also about something more, something else.
What is this “something else”?
We basically started delving into systemic and constellation work – starting from the whole idea that we are all part of family and [other] systems. Even if we are orphans, we still biologically come from a father and a mother. Behind them, there are their parents, behind them, their grandparents and great-grandparents. They’ve all won or lost, all had their doubts and successes, they’ve all been perpetrating things and they’ve all perpetrated. So, we stand on the shoulders of our ancestors, and that helped me see the world and the film systemically.
‘The Apologist’
Courtesy of Limerick Films
Yes, we yearn for control, and more and more we live in a time where we get an illusion of control, including politically. Through media and [technology], you feel you can check and control who has done something right or wrong. It’s an age where we can watch live streams of every war and every conflict in the world.
But responsibility is not only about an individual. You have to approach it collectively. You have to support each other as a community, which easily sounds wishy-washy and tree-huggy. But in exploring good and bad apologies, we also had to delve into our own contradictions, our own uncertainties and doubts and anxieties and ghosts of the past. Frailty, vulnerability and uncertainty is exactly what we need to face right here, right now. Things are uncertain and very shaky.
I picked up on this theme of how things are complex, even when they may sound simple, and how we may all have to get out of our comfort zones. Any key takeaways you think viewers may leave the doc with?
For me, the big, big lesson of the film is to stay in discomfort. Relationships are difficult. I’m a father of a six-year-old girl, and the film is dedicated to her. First, we have to acknowledge what is behind us and think about our ancestors. It’s humbling to accept that you’re just on a timeline, and your forefathers are present there with you.
Is that why you, Musia and Valentijn address your own views on key issues and how personal backgrounds and biases make an impact?
Yes. All [I just said] also applies to the idea of the documentary filmmaker. You can’t tell stories without yourself, without your own gaze, without questioning your own gaze, and without being humble to the process of investigating and being inquired.
‘The Apologist’
Courtesy of Limerick Films
There is clearly an opportunity for debates or other activities tied to screenings of The Apologist. Is there anything unusual that you are planning for Sheffield?
Of course, a classic Q&A and debate is one approach, and we will have those at the festival. But the danger there is that words take over and silences and bodily awareness disappear. The world premiere will be preceded by meditation in the cinema.
People shouldn’t feel scared away. If you just want to be present in the room and wait a couple of minutes, you’ll get to see the film that you bought a ticket for. Don’t worry! But we like to offer a space in which you are welcomed even when it’s hard. It is the first of several special screenings.
We are exploring building an impact campaign around it, exactly on the principles of awareness and systemic work. It’s nothing magical, but just an invitation to remember and to (re)connect with our awareness as ways into processing grief, acknowledgement and finding ways to explore together.
I heard that some TV networks are partners on The Apologist?
Yes, I think it’s very, very hopeful that this kind of film has been co-produced with four broadcasters – NDR [in Germany] in association with [European culture channel] ARTE, VPRO [in the Netherlands] and
VRT and RTBF [in Belgium]. It’s amazing, especially because there is uncertainty painted all over the film. It’s not your classic character-driven film that’s very safe.
‘The Apologist’
Courtesy of Limerick Films
If you had to simplify things majorly, what would your headline takeaway from The Apologist and your own work on it be for people who are considering watching the film?
It didn’t start with you. And: It’s not just about you. It’s about the humility of standing on your ancestors’ shoulders, which has really big implications and is not that romantic. You have to look at the pressure of the system that people are part of and what is expected of them.
Anything else you’d like to share?
There’s a very good line from [Swiss psychologist] Carl Gustav Jung. He said, “I would rather be a whole person than a good person.”
