L'Antiquaire
2026 · 2m
Directed by Leyan Blanc, Côme Barillot-Chamblas, Mathis Fouligny
Tones: contemplative, melancholic, tender
An old antiques dealer lets his memories carry him back to the day the love of his life, now gone, first crossed the threshold of his shop.
Picked by Margot
The scouts
Two minutes of a man remembering his dead lover in an antique shop—it's the kind of premise that could've been a greeting card, but something about the formal restraint here (or maybe the fact that three directors somehow didn't committee this into oblivion) suggests they're playing a different game than the obvious one.
A perfect distillation of the memory-as-threshold film, executed with the kind of measured pacing and spatial awareness that situates itself squarely in the lineage of European art cinema—the way the shop itself becomes a character, a repository of time, is both formally rigorous and deeply moving.
The decision to let the antique objects themselves carry the emotional weight rather than underline it with score or performance—that restraint, that trust in the viewer's ability to read a room—is what transforms this from a sentimental premise into something that actually lands.