home is where we are

The scouts

The premise reads like a Hallmark setup—three girls, a scissors, presumably a life lesson—but if Hamzaoui actually subverts the expected emotional beat here, he's earned my attention; the problem is I can't tell from two minutes whether this is genuine or just tender-washing something darker.

There's a quiet formality in how Hamzaoui frames intimacy and vulnerability through this ritualistic act; the film sits within a lineage of coming-of-age shorts that use the body as text, though whether the execution justifies the weight of that tradition remains the question.

The decision to set the entire emotional gravity on the *moment* the blade touches hair—the sound design, the framing, whether we see Nour's face or the friends' hands—is what either elevates this from sentiment into something true or lets it collapse into it; that single choice is everything here.