LA CABANE

The scouts

A two-minute meditation on childhood ennui sounds like the most precious thing ever made, but Riche somehow dodges the sentiment trap—there's a real refusal to comfort us here, a willingness to sit with Lucas's boredom as something genuine and unsolvable.

Riche positions this within a lineage of French cinema's tender domestic observation—Pialat, early Haneke—where the smallest gesture between parent and child becomes the entire emotional architecture of the piece.

The decision to let the boredom breathe without narrative rescue, to trust the camera's stillness over cutting away to distraction, is what transforms a simple premise into something that actually *feels* like being a restless child.