In a big isolated house, Mikael, a musician, is composing a psalm. A young woman, Linda, comes to retreive a suitcase belonging to Sébastien, her companion and Mikael's friend. It contains hundreds of photographs from all over the world. While he is travelling, Sébastien has asked Linda to organise the photographs with a view to an exhibition. Mikael invites Linda to reside with him. She accepts. That is the heart of the film – an intertwining of photographs which, juxtaposed by Linda, begin to speak. In parallel with this, Linda receives cassette-letters from Sébastien. A subtle relationship is established between Linda, the young debutante, and Mikael, the man of experience. Mikael goes off to direct his psalm, Linda stays alone. The walls become covered with photographs – wall of happiness, wall of misery – the fight between Good and Evil. Linda learns of the accidental death of Sébastien and stays alone.

In the late 1970s, Marcel fled Catalonia to avoid conscription into the Spanish military. For 30 years he has been living in the tropical forests of Costa Rica, where he hosts ayahuasca ceremonies for young seekers from the West.

A filmmaker and his crew try to enter the passionate world of Port-Royal and of Jansenism. Another Age of Louis XIV comes to life, the age of Pascal, Racine and of the “Friends of Truth”. The film itself comes up against the unanswerable question of grace.

In 1986, Laurent Roth was able to finish his first longer work: Les yeux brûlés, a documentary about war photographers and cinematographers that honoured some of France’s then still-living greats, while also fathoming the complex relationship between film and armed combat since the inception of the cinematic art.When Roth returned to the material of Les yeux brûlés for a portrait of Schoendoerffer, only the audio still existed – the images were lost. Roth took this in his stride and came up with a stunning solution: he used the complete audio, unedited, and severely slowed down the few existing shots of Schoendoerffer (and his interviewer, actress Mireille Perrier) to fit the sound, length-wise.

Riad, a middle-aged man, holds a firearm shop in a neighbourhood of Beirut. When he meets up with his friends or goes hunting with them, it is often with the aim of evoking together their memories of the civil war fought in the Christian militia. They live in nostalgia for the war that impassioned their youth. Director Myriam El Hajj builds solid architectural images that interrogate — and, perhaps, over time even manage to articulate — the intimate origins of violence that never seems to depart and a past that doesn't want to let go of the present.

A blown wick, a rejected corner stone, multiplied loaves, mown wheat and the mower watching us. Some Bible verses illustrated by plans stolen in the countryside during the summer.

A young woman comes to Roissy airport to pick up a military canteen that has been returned to her. It is the effects and pictures of Jean Péraud, a reporter photographer who disappeared at Dien Bien Phu on May 8, 1954. Soon, the discussion begins between the young woman and the former press companions of Péraud who are present. Through the memories and stories she provokes, the ever-present questions about what makes the war image resurface: is the reporter a witness or a combatant? Does he protect himself from the effects of war by filming it, or does he take more risks in order to bear witness? Can we speak of art in front of this image made in the face of death?

Reel found on eBay. A soldier films the courtyard of his barracks from his window. It's the 1970s, and I try to imagine what he must be thinking.