LE POUDRIER
2026 · 2m
Directed by Serge Tiar
Tones: contemplative, melancholic, tender
In a silent room, a woman performs a familiar ritual while her daughter watches, worried; between almost initiatory gestures, invisible presences, and suspended gazes, what passes without words is love, kinship, and the beauty of a last moment.
Picked by Margot
The scouts
A two-minute poem about a mother and daughter doing something ritualistic in silence—it's restrained to the point of being almost invisible, which is exactly why it shouldn't work, and yet the film's refusal to explain or dramatize anything feels genuinely radical.
Tiar's formal control here is remarkable: the suspended gazes and invisible presences create a kind of negative space that situates itself squarely in the lineage of Chantal Akerman and contemporary lyric cinema, where what remains unspoken becomes the film's entire argument.
The decision to let the daughter's worry exist purely in her face while the mother moves through her ritual without acknowledgment—that single choice of non-communication—transforms a domestic moment into something trembling with unstated consequence.