Dérives

Laosan, a young family man, spends all his time smoking opium. For his community, lost in the heart of the Laotian jungle, opium farming is the only way to survive. But opium is also the poison that puts men to sleep and kills their desires.

Brussels, La Monnaie Opera House. Three people near the end of their lives meet with choreographers, actors and musicians. They take part in a unique experience which involves music, dance and silence. Their journey becomes a tribute to the fragility of the human condition, between reality and representation, tragedy of the body and freedom of the spirit. Together they question their own relationship with death.

A film crew crisscrosses England trying to unravel the mystery surrounding a record released 30 years earlier, 'Spirit of Eden', that defined the passage from light to shadow of its makers, the band Talk Talk and its lead singer Mark Hollis. From overwhelming obstacles to unpredictable encounters, their journey soon turns into an organic quest. With silence as a horizon line. And punk as a philosophy, thinking that music is accessible to all and that the human spirit is above the technique.

This film is an African “Boyhood” that gives an insight to the political and historical situation of Burundi throughout the last 24 years through the eyes of six street children that now have become adults.

One day, the tree is considered mature. In any case, it is exploitable for the industry. So, we mark it and then cut it down. With the chainsaw or the harvester, it depends. And then it becomes biomass, pallets, panels, pellets, crates, paper pulp for printing promotions. But what profit does man get from the pains he takes under the sun?

Over many years, the director’s father filmed his family life almost obsessively. His daughter’s birth, his son’s first steps, and always Valérie, the young mother. An impressive fund of material which their now grown-up daughter Faustine appropriates to tell quite a different story: that of a woman who sees her role as a mother and its demands take away her freedom step by step.

It was summer on the shores of Lake Geneva. Alice was on vacation at the campsite with her mother, she was bored. One day by chance, she met Zack in the middle of the sunflower fields. Today the summer is over. Before dying, the faded sunflowers tell us the story of this invisible love.

A computer screen, images from the four corners of the world. We cross borders in one-click while another trip’s story reach us in bits, through text messages, chats, phone conversations, and an immigration office’s questionnaire. It’s the journey of Shahin, a 20-year-old Iranian boy who, fleeing his country alone, lands in Greece, then winds his way to England where he claims asylum.

As a letter to her son, the filmmaker testifies her experience as a photographer aboard the Aquarius, a ship that rescued 29,523 people in the Mediterranean between 2016 and 2018.

In Italy, in the mid-seventies, Adriana, Barbara, Nadia and Susanna were 20 years old when they decided to join the armed struggle and leave behind their social life and their families in order to make the revolution the center and the aim of their existence. Today they have returned after many years in prison, and they try, each one of them, to recount their own experiences. They speak about the political reasons which initially sustained them, the conflicts, the doubts, and the moments of being torn apart which market out their lives as women caught up in the vortex of war. A course of events which ended in the condemnation of the armed struggle and the pain of the lives that were destroyed – their victims’ lives and their own.

In an abandoned hospital on the outskirts of Brussels, strangers come and go while ghosts linger. Among the shards of glass, a young streamer performs a live sex show for an online subscriber. Under the same dilapidated roof, an old woman lights a fire and drinks her sorrows away in the room where her husband stayed until he died. A chance encounter between these two lonely beings will unleash a flood of memories and virtual data. But real-life connections are scarce, and mutual consolation seems a distant dream. Porcupines are said to gather on cold winter days to share body heat with their fellows, but ultimately injure each other with their quills. How is it that our slightest attempts at intimacy so often see us retreating once more into solitude?

Lou Colpé has been filming her grandparents since she was 15. In the process of this intense relationship, she notices some disconcerting signs in her grandmother: Alzheimer’s is slowing her down. A new film begins, a tougher one: the story of a couple that must face a tremendous challenge. Struggling against the tide of oblivion, the task of filmmaking becomes the ultimate act of resistance. Trying to retain the last images of her grandparents, an intimate conversation begins and echoes through the songs that play on the radio, conjuring lost stories and memories.

Through a powerful visual metaphor, Camille Vigny gives a first-person account of the domestic violence she suffered. The images and text interact with remarkable precision to convey the devastating impact of the cataclysm. It's a political gesture, brimming with courage, an icy cry that takes your breath away.

After surviving ISIS prisons as a child, Rashid has been reunited with his family in Sinjar, northwestern Iraq. Now a teenager, the young Yazidi dreams of a brighter future. But peace is fragile, and hatred against his community is resurfacing.

Since November 2022, the Brussels prisons of Saint-Gilles, Forest and Berkendael have been moving to the brand-new "prison village" of Haren, on the outskirts of Brussels. An ultra-modern, ultra-secure, semi-private prison. But why build new prisons in the first place?

A café in the north of Brussels. Days are punctuated by the songs that the customers sing at all hours, to amuse themselves, to remember or to pass the time. Those songs transform the place little by little, making the film a strange musical.

Portrait of Belgian historian, reporter and documentarian André Dartevelle.

From Belgium, Jialai Wang maintains contact via smartphone and camera with her mother and grandmother in China. When her grandmother’s health deteriorates, Jialai returns to Shanghai, but when she arrives, her grandmother has already died, and she is left alone with her mother. A devout Buddhist, her mother seems to pay more attention to her daily prayers, Maoist past and dog Dongdong than she does to her daughter. She herself had been abandoned as a child by her own mother, when she divorced Jialai’s grandfather and moved to the city.

Documentary about a man remembering his struggles while floating on a boat down a river.

Everyone calls him Kev, this pale-looking redhead, who a social worker found, as a child, locked in a bedroom where he had only rays of sunshine to play with. Now a teenager, Kevin suffers from a form of autism so severe that the majority of so-called specialised institutions have long refused to take him in. Clémence Hébert followed him with her camera, from one place to another. She, who is gifted with speech and he, who lives without, tamed each other as peers with a lens as the only medium of recognition, which captures what palpitates, appears, withers, and recommences. A discontinued but living link.