Why do they vote for the extreme right?
In a car park in a small town in the North East of France, people gather around the pizza truck. The radio sputters: «10 days to go before the election…». It’s the presidential campaign.
The pizza is in the oven. During the 15 minutes they are waiting, I listen to them. They talk about their everyday lives. The world as it is here, as they understand it here. It’s all about politics.
They stare at me, avoid me or call me out. I come from the big city.
The working classes set the borders. Here, they are at home.
Is it a separation story?