Théophile Gay-Mazas

The LED on my webcam started flashing for no reason. Is it possible that an observer, a hacker, a friend or ghost is currently housed in my webcam? I embark on a series of video-calls to find out what this elusive entity wants with me.

In the 16th century, in a forest in the Cévennes in France, peasant women from many regions band together to fight the enclosure of common lands. A few centuries later, construction in the forest is under the watchful eye of Annie, a solitary 75-year-old night watchwoman. One night, the landscape is turned upside down.

Open a door. Handle a crisis. Write an incident report. At France’s prison officer academy, hundreds of men and women learn to become prison guards. Their words begin to mirror the institution. Their movements sharpen. What once felt uncertain becomes routine. Doubt slowly fades from their faces.

A few days before the museum reopens, director Marie Losier is invited to be the first to re-enter and film her discovery of the place. During this night at the museum, she wanders from room to room and films the enigmatic creatures she encounters - animals, works, but also the artists and accomplices she has invited. These successive apparitions compose the scenes of a surrealist film that spectators can discover in a giant projection on the façade of the museum during an exceptional evening.

A research-creation essay film which invents a mode of investigation through the body. It’s about performing image analysis while being immersed in it.

This is the story of a film-making dog. In a series of return trips between Brittany and Lisbon, the protagonist, along with a producer, conjures up a film through the prism of ethology, in search of the sincerity of the animal gaze. An animal comedy that includes hundreds of images of dogs that have appeared in films over the history of cinema.

In the northern Alps, Anne, Hélène and Suzanne take turns looking after a mountain hut. Through the seasons, hikers come and go. Stories bloom and fade, leaving each of them facing the silence of their chosen solitude and the poetry of nature.

Travels in Colombia. Pieces of dialogue misunderstood, mistranslated. Erratic characters. A loss in search of healing. Every egg has a corner is a sensory tale of wandering to embrace the darkness, rediscover speech and perhaps memory.