Odd Squad films hope in despair

Addicts do make it clean in tragic follow-up to Through a Blue Lens

Katherine Monk, CanWest News Service

Published: Tuesday, December 04, 2007

TEARS FOR APRIL

Directed by: Ken Jubenvill, Al Arsenault

Parental advisory: Coarse language, frequent drug use, graphic images

Running time: 95 minutes

Rating 4

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The story of Vancouver's Downtown Eastside and its drug-addicted denizens is certainly no scoop. But finding hope amid the endless despair is something not even Vancouver's Odd Squad productions had been able to find until Tears for April, the latest documentary from the city's filmmaking law enforcers.

A bookend to their previous, multiple-award winning debut Through a Blue Lens -- which remains one of the National Film Board's most widely distributed documentaries to date -- Tears for April picks up where Through a Blue Lens left off, and takes us even further into the blood- and urine-soaked world of the habitual drug user.

The first film showcased six individual addicts and their descent from health to a half-life mired in disease, abuse and exploitation.

We see the same people in part 2, but at the heart of this exploration is the story of April (Shannon) Reoch, a young woman from Squamish who found herself on the streets at the age of 17.

When we hear the police describe April, it's immediately clear that despite the general ambivalence among average Vancouverites, the police see and engage with the local addicts. They noticed April, to the point where they photographed her outside a nightclub in 1993 -- just before she took the life-sucking plunge into heroin and cocaine addiction.

April was pretty. She was bright. She was also mother to a young son named Daniel, but after the needle landed, April joined the legions of other women on the streets who sell their bodies to finance a habit.

Though most viewers will be able to predict April's outcome before the final frames, the beauty of this very earnest and extremely urgent film is the way it constantly reintroduces hope.

It's an element that can't be undervalued, because stories of addiction are so mind-numbingly depressing, the biggest challenge for any viewer -- and any Vancouverite -- is to remain invested in the drama when so much of it seems hopeless.

Making things even more problematic is the resignation most addicts show towards their disease. Listening to the subjects speak about their illness is almost akin to listening to an artist talk about his last canvas, or a musician describe a song. The sickness consumes so much of who they are, it's now their main focus -- their central raison d'etre. More disturbingly, the drugs usurp a sense of personal identity.

In April's case, treatment proved unsuccessful. After watching the young woman try to stay clean and reconnect with her son, we're given the final chapter: April's body was found stuffed into a bag, and left by a dumpster.

The last image of April is that of her toothless body in the morgue, bent, bloated and broken. If this were just her story, the movie could have drowned the viewer in tragedy, but it's not. April didn't make it, but we're shown others who found the strength, medical intervention and self-love to stay clean.

Easily one of the most potent sources of prevention, Tears for April is a carefully delivered cautionary tale that reminds every one of us how close Vancouver's Downtown Eastside is to our daily life, regardless of where we happen to live.