Fleuraison
2026 · 2m
Directed by Liana Imbert
Genres: coming-of-age, LGBTQ+, romance
Tones: contemplative, sensual, tender
At a party, the bored Flora's gaze is drawn to a charming young woman her brother's friend names for her — Daphnée — and the two women exchange looks from afar before meeting on the dance floor, admitting a mutual attraction.
Picked by Zoe
The scouts
Two minutes of mutual glances and a dance floor kiss—it's so earnest and straightforward it almost feels like a trap, except Imbert commits to it with zero irony, which is either the most boring move or the most punk one, and I genuinely can't decide.
Imbert locates herself in the lineage of New Queer Cinema's tender gaze, particularly the Céline Sciamma school of hesitant desire, though at two minutes the film risks feeling more like a crystallized moment than a considered work.
The entire architecture hinges on Imbert's choice to let the naming moment—when Daphnée's identity enters through her brother's voice—become the moment Flora's desire crystallizes; that single tonal pivot from boredom to recognition does everything the budget can't.