Luc Chessel

A group of young people are organizing. One night, they face the police who came to evacuate an African squat. Carmen meets Hussain, a young afghan poet. Crazy in love, they don’t leave each other. But a curse hangs over the city, papers are carrying death, bodies are falling. Panicked at the idea that he could get arrested, Carmen forbids him to go out, and locks herself with him. Gradually, Hussain get the feeling that she is watching him…

Two young boys, Victor and Rainer, take the commuter train to spend the evening in Paris. In a nightclub on the banks of the Seine they go from one disappointment to another, from failed chat ups to street brawls. But as they get carried away by the night, they leave the city for the forest. In the silence of the moonlight nature, the desire between the two friends becomes increasingly vibrant. A new day is born from their friendship.

Four seasons to tell the fluctuating moods and mores of a small community that shares its daily chores and life experiences in the military base of Fort Buchanan. In this imagined (perhaps dreamed?) location, peculiar habits respond to the needs of a peculiar environment. Roger, a fragile gay man, and his female companions, trying to cope with the absence of their husbands, go through their own brand of challenges for survival, with their own form of outdoor camaraderie, thought-occupying chat and DIY activities. Roger has a tough daughter who runs him ragged, but he has buddies willing to help: Justine, Denise, Pamela and Claudia-Joy.

A young woman struggles to overcome lost love, unplanned motherhood and ghostly apparitions.

Two teenagers meet one Saturday evening to hang out together. While they cross Paris, meetings and disappointments are linked and push them to ask themselves about the feelings they have.

Ideas improve. With the help of the meaning of words. Plagiarism is essential. Progress implies it. It embraces a writer's sentence, uses his expressions, erases a false idea, replaces it with the right one.

An old thunderstorm rumbles in my head. A thunderstorm born 25 years ago. A storm at times distant, almost forgotten. A thunderstorm often deafening. Literature assured me men existed for a long time. Music taught me their melancholy preceded them. Painting whispered to me that screams can be silent. The trade of men, very fast, seemed to me vague and vain.

This short film is part of the clandestine dialogues of the Nicolas Klotz and Élisabeth Perceval’s 2015 feature, “Ceremony”.

Marinaleda features two philosophical vampires trying to reach the self-managed village of Marinaleda in southern Spain.

A young woman crosses a confined provincial town and its outskirts. Once at her destination, a strange mourning protocol awaits her.

On the one hand, the stories of Simon Johannin, raw and tender, dirty and sensitive, stemming from the asphalt, from a chaotic feeling of everyday life, from a certain youth. On the other, the performance techno of Jardin, autotuned, ambient, or projected into a wall of noise. In this performance Simon Johannin unfolds the monologue of a man talking to himself to cling to reason.

Andréa spends the summer writing in a holiday home. Inconsolable after a break-up, she urges her sister Ninon to join. But her ex-girlfriend Elise unexpectedly shows up to patch things up. And it’s already too late to tell Ninon not to come. Let the full game begin.