Larmes de crocrodile
2026 · 2m
Directed by Camille Monnier
Genres: coming-of-age, drama, fantasy
Tones: contemplative, melancholic, whimsical
At a child's height, the film enters a household on the brink of breaking apart, where, in a disordered apartment, a little girl observes the adults' chaos, questions it, and transforms it into an imaginary world whose beauty she detects.
Picked by Margot
The scouts
Everyone's going to coo about the whimsy and the child's-eye perspective as if it's some profound statement about innocence, but what actually interests me is how Monnier refuses the easy redemption—the girl doesn't fix the chaos, she just hallows it, which is genuinely unsettling if you're not looking for comfort.
The framing choice to shoot at child height isn't decorative; it's a formal commitment to perspective that recalls the best of mid-century European cinema, where camera position becomes philosophy, and the discipline of maintaining that eye-line while the apartment dissolves into beauty suggests a filmmaker fluent in the language of composed melancholy.
There's a single decision buried here—the moment the camera catches what the girl transforms versus what remains chaotic—that determines whether this lands as sentiment or as real observation, and Monnier's restraint in not explaining which is which is exactly the kind of structural trust that separates a competent coming-of-age story from one that breathes.