The Gleaners and I: Two Years Later

I heard a story a few years back: someone was in Paris and came across a little gallery. When they went inside, they realized it wasn't a gallery at all; Agnès Varda was standing there and they had walked into her home. She offered them something to drink, and they found themselves chatting with her all afternoon.

For the life of me I can't remember where I heard the story, in an interview I read or maybe talking to someone before a screening, but I always think of it watching her later documentaries. She has such a singular way of stitching together these different segments and tying them together with such care and affection. And as April comes to a close, what a treat for Agnès Varda to have collected all the lily of the valley from a May Day march.