Neither the skin nor the filmic material is exempt from the temporal becoming and its consequent growing degradation. Both have such a fragile sensitivity that their potential for intervention seems to be infinitely finite, yet a common point seems to open a gulf between them: memory. However, one point in common seems to open an abyss between them: memory. How does dermatological memory operate? The photographic archive sends us back to vital mummification. Virtual skin and digital body exchange mails.
What happens when two hands touch? How close are they like? And how can proximity be measured, and even more so, in times of a pandemic and distancing? We think we touch things, that we can take other people by the hand, but physics tells us quite another story.
On October 4, 2018, France celebrated the 60th anniversary of the Fifth Republic. It is a republic born in the throes of the Algerian War and one which—from the day it was founded by General de Gaulle until the presidency of a very Jupiterian Emmanuel Macron—has been assailed as a “Republican monarchy” by partisans of a more assertive parliamentarian state.
A young Polish filmmaker sets out to find out what happened to Mateusz Birkut, a bricklayer who became a propaganda hero in the 1950s but later fell out of favor and disappeared.
Life for former United Nations investigator Gerry Lane and his family seems content. Suddenly, the world is plagued by a mysterious infection turning whole human populations into rampaging mindless zombies.
Natan tells the remarkable story of Bernard Natan, a Romanian immigrant who came to Paris in 1905 and was involved almost immediately with French cinema.
May 6, 2012. Cable news reporter Laetitia is covering the French presidential elections, while Vincent, her ex-husband, demands to see their two young daughters.
