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The scouts

A seven-year-old weaponizes grief as a reunion strategy—it's absurd, it shouldn't work, and yet the film commits to the logic so completely that you're nodding along. This is the kind of premise that makes other scouts nervous and Felix vindicated.

The tonal balance here is assured in the way of films that understand their lineage: playful without sentimentality, dark without cruelty, sitcom-adjacent but with real emotional stakes. Two directors holding that line steady across three minutes is restraint worth noting.

The masterstroke is letting the child's plan be genuinely stupid—no magical thinking, no validation—and trusting that choice to carry the entire emotional weight. That refusal to soft-pedal Lúa's logic is what makes the family dynamics land as hard as they do.