Eleanore & The Timekeeper

Every morning before dawn, Ronnie flips on the light in his mother's bedroom. “Hiya! Gonna work awhile!” Her thin voice responds: “Morning, Ronnie. Gonna work awhile?” So begins the day for 90-year-old Eleanore and her 64-year-old disabled son. Chronicling the slow, sweet passage of time in their lives is experimental filmmaker Danièle Wilmouth, who happens to be Eleanore's granddaughter. Eleanore is faced with a wrenching decision that will upset the measured pace of their existence-whether or not to place Ronnie in a group home, so he can become independent before she's gone. Ronnie works at cutting up magazines, dropping kernels of corn into containers, and assembling drinking cups at the local factory. Seasons pass; Ronnie and Eleanore travel in their car along old back roads to see how things are changing. As the camera examines life's details – textures, vibrant colors, the landscape of their home in Pennsylvania logging country – we become keenly aware of time's passage. The movie's sound doesn't always jibe with the images we see – the world isn't as straightforward as all that in ELEANORE & THE TIMEKEEPER. One morning Eleanore's light stays off. Ronnie has moved out. The rhythms of life assume a new graceful pattern. –B.B.