A group of young people are organizing. One night, they face the police who came to evacuate an African squat. Carmen meets Hussain, a young afghan poet. Crazy in love, they don’t leave each other. But a curse hangs over the city, papers are carrying death, bodies are falling. Panicked at the idea that he could get arrested, Carmen forbids him to go out, and locks herself with him. Gradually, Hussain get the feeling that she is watching him…

A group of young people are organizing. One night, they face the police who came to evacuate an African squat. Carmen meets Hussain, a young afghan poet. Crazy in love, they don’t leave each other. But a curse hangs over the city, papers are carrying death, bodies are falling. Panicked at the idea that he could get arrested, Carmen forbids him to go out, and locks herself with him. Gradually, Hussain get the feeling that she is watching him…

Men and women are dancing feverishly for a long time. The dance of bodies turns into a filmic trance, fleeing turns into running away, with braided motifs that get revived with every race. The men who don’t dance talk, recite, tell their own stories for and with the filmmakers. And be it through dancing or talking, it is by sharing work space and time, by making a film together, as a community, and by lovingly giving in to sharing, that the film operates politically. It even makes a processional samba in the streets of Sao Paulo look like a show of inalienable collective power. Carried away by this power, the film itself then seems to run away, to overrun its own limits. Somewhere between fable and document, improvisation and composition, anger and joy, all frontiers are burning. (Cyril Neyrat - FID 2021)

Men and women are dancing feverishly for a long time. The dance of bodies turns into a filmic trance, fleeing turns into running away, with braided motifs that get revived with every race. The men who don’t dance talk, recite, tell their own stories for and with the filmmakers. And be it through dancing or talking, it is by sharing work space and time, by making a film together, as a community, and by lovingly giving in to sharing, that the film operates politically. It even makes a processional samba in the streets of Sao Paulo look like a show of inalienable collective power. Carried away by this power, the film itself then seems to run away, to overrun its own limits. Somewhere between fable and document, improvisation and composition, anger and joy, all frontiers are burning. (Cyril Neyrat - FID 2021)

Men and women are dancing feverishly for a long time. The dance of bodies turns into a filmic trance, fleeing turns into running away, with braided motifs that get revived with every race. The men who don’t dance talk, recite, tell their own stories for and with the filmmakers. And be it through dancing or talking, it is by sharing work space and time, by making a film together, as a community, and by lovingly giving in to sharing, that the film operates politically. It even makes a processional samba in the streets of Sao Paulo look like a show of inalienable collective power. Carried away by this power, the film itself then seems to run away, to overrun its own limits. Somewhere between fable and document, improvisation and composition, anger and joy, all frontiers are burning. (Cyril Neyrat - FID 2021)

« In the shadows of Low Life, a secret ceremony dedicated to thirteen guardians of humanity’s common treasures, love and resistance, youth and poetry, equality and difference, insurrection and revolution. Saxifrages … These rootless plants’ windblown destiny is a soft perseverance doubled by an imperceptible intransigence, which, in time, imposes on the hardness of stones a patience that can break them. » – Saad Chakali

« In the shadows of Low Life, a secret ceremony dedicated to thirteen guardians of humanity’s common treasures, love and resistance, youth and poetry, equality and difference, insurrection and revolution. Saxifrages … These rootless plants’ windblown destiny is a soft perseverance doubled by an imperceptible intransigence, which, in time, imposes on the hardness of stones a patience that can break them. » – Saad Chakali

First part of a "trilogy of modern times" (the second one is La Blessure, and third - La question humaine). Paria follows the path of two characters, Momo and Victor. Momo –remarkably played by Gérald Thomassin– lives in the streets, while Victor, on the edge of poverty, loses his apartment when he loses his job. Their destinies will come across during the night of the “millennium” which will be celebrated in a social pick-up bus.

Blandine arrives at the Charles de Gaulle Airport, seeking a reunion with her husband Papi in Paris. Despite articulate claims for asylum, she is held in a cramped cell along with a number of fellow Africans, humiliated, mistreated and told that they can expect immediate deportation. Papi enquires of her whereabouts at Arrivals, and is met with disinterested, misleading responses. When Blandine is hurt in a skirmish on the runway as the authorities try and force her out of the country, circumstances and a sympathetic employee of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs save her from expulsion. She is finally reunited with Papi in a communal squat, its inhabitants sharing harrowing stories of their time in France. With work, money and food scarce, and her confidence shaken by her less than warm welcome to the country, Blandine cannot find the enthusiasm to leave her damp mattress.

From Brazzaville to Barcelona, a journey around the world in search of unique and diverse voices with the purpose of celebrating the collective dimension of life through words, music and the movement of bodies.