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Lynch is dead.
Trump is going to be president.
The world is changing.
My father died when I was five.
One day, in front of a shop window, he asked me to choose a stuffed animal.
I wanted the big gray dog.
"Don’t you prefer the monkey?" – he’d had a monkey when he was young.
I said no, the dog.
So, the dog.
It’s always stayed with me, almost by accident.
I never took special care of it.
It wasn’t the first thing I packed when moving. I almost forgot about it.
But somehow, it followed me.
Like a dog.
And recently, I rearranged my room, and it’s still there, sitting on a bench.
My room is almost empty, you see:
The bed, a few books, a wardrobe with not much in it.
And the dog.
When my son sleeps over, often in the morning, he comes into my room and shouts, "Big Dog!"
He picks it up in his arms.
He takes it to his room to play with his other stuffed animals.
After a while, I tell him, "Big Dog is tired; he needs to go back to bed."
He says okay and puts him back on the bench.
He puts a bandage on him "because his leg hurts."
He turns him the right way "so he can see."
It makes me smile every time.
But tonight, thinking about it all, I’m in tears.

In my New Year's resolutions, becoming a TikTok influencer was nowhere on the list.

To tell you the truth, three months ago, I put TikTok in the same category as Pokémon, Minecraft, and manga: things young people do that are probably great for them but not for me.

But now, I’ve become a (mini) TikTok star.

A short video I posted three days ago has reached nearly more than 200,000 views; my follower count has skyrocketed, and all my other videos are gaining traction. Things are also picking up on Instagram. Here’s the video in question (YouTube version), which, honestly, had no reason to succeed:

If you recall, I mentioned in the previous post that I had started posting short videos again (what YouTube calls "shorts" and Instagram calls "reels"), originally to share "philosophical musings" on YouTube. The philosophy fell by the wayside, replaced by questionable humor. To make the effort worthwhile, I forced myself to post on Instagram and TikTok as well. Naturally, that’s where it went viral.

It’s another world. If I put my phone down for five minutes, I always come back to 99+ notifications: likes, comments, shares, new followers. It never stops, not even at night. And to my surprise, all the comments so far have been... incredibly funny. People get my humor and play along. Except on Instagram, where... things are a bit more complicated.

Initially, it was about quickly giving shape to ideas I have every day, ones I don’t plan to do anything major with. Not everything is meant to become a proper "Film." So I shoot in under twenty minutes—usually while out on a walk—edit on my phone, and bam, I publish. There’s also a desire to find an audience that shares my quirks, my sense of humor, and who will happily come to screenings when I release more ambitious films. Bypass the gatekeepers.

So I’m continuing to post videos. We’ll see where it leads. For now, I’m happy to exchange little jokes with the people who found them funny while I take a break.

You can follow the videos I post on TikTok, Instagram, or YouTube.

UPDATE: I now have several videos that have gone viral, and I’ve become aware of a troubling phenomenon.

I roughly get three types of comments on my videos: 1) People who find them funny and build on the jokes, 2) those who don’t understand it’s humor and are more or less insulting, and 3)... bots.

I can’t explain it any other way. When a video reaches a certain threshold (about 50k views), I see coordinated attacks of extremely alarmist and negative messages posted by highly suspicious accounts (no posts, no profile picture, or AI-generated videos). For example, when I joke about fog being "proof we’re in a video game that hasn’t finished rendering the background," I’m faced with an army of eerily similar anecdotes (same expressions, same wording), responding to one another, and leading to extremely dark conspiracy theories involving poisonings, illnesses, and fear of anything foreign.

I feel like I’m reading the seeds of the silly remarks I hear at certain dinners from people who say, "Do your research." But it’s true that, en masse, these comments color everything and can leave a bitter taste.

In 2022, I filmed a 10-minute improvisation video every day and posted it on YouTube. In 2025, I’m starting again!

Maybe not every day and not 10 minutes long: I’ll create shorts between 1 to 3 minutes, quickly edit them on my phone, and upload them... everywhere! YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok. Pick your favorite platform!

At the same time, I’m creating a Notes section on this site where I’ll add ideas, quotes, and sources that inspire me, linked to the video I’ve posted. This is something I’ve been doing on Obsidian for years, with over 2,000 notes. The key is that they’re interconnected, allowing deeper exploration of a single topic.

Here’s an example of a note/video pair about My Dinner with André by Louis Malle:

And the corresponding note is here.

Episode 5 of our web series Panic in Space won 2nd place in the Audience Award at the Scientific Short Film Festival of Riom!

Sign up for our mailing list to receive the episodes as soon as they're ready:

Regular readers of the blog have already seen these photos, but now they’ve been colorized in post-production. I LOVE the result: the grain, the contrasts, the hesitant and uneven colors. As far as I’m concerned, Ilford Delta 3200 film still has plenty of life left in it.

If you like the look, I’ll be posting more on Instagram. Honestly, I’m planning to post nothing but this 😆. Let’s see how long that lasts.

Some time ago, I discovered Truth by Alex Ebert. At first, I listened to it casually, but after reading the lyrics, I became a huge fan of the track. Recently, I stumbled upon this cover by Faada Freddy:

At first, it felt too dense, with too many layers stacked on top of each other – including the whistled part, which I found a bit distracting. But in the end, it’s that richness that makes me listen to it on repeat. It feels comfortable, like being in a crowded room where each piece of furniture has a story. Go figure.

Since the start of fall, I’ve been trying something new:

Every Monday evening, along with some improv friends, we invite anyone interested to join us in the basement of Barlone for an improv workshop. Then, once a month—one Monday out of four—we record sketches with a live audience in front of a green screen. Entry is free as long as you order a drink.

So far, we mostly have professionals (actors, directors), but everyone is welcome. We haven’t fully nailed down the rules yet.

What we're aiming for is a new way to create fiction, where performance—not writing—is at the heart of the process. We invent, build, and rehearse on the spot, without going through the script stage.

First filming session tonight. Theme: "The Catastrophe." Nothing is ready. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Thanks to Barlone for hosting us with genuine warmth, as they do with all their events. And thanks to Cynthia Pedrosa for the illustration.

If you’re interested in the adventure or want to join in, check out more info on our Facebook and Instagram pages.

This week at the Off Courts Festival, I had the pleasure of filming a music video for the guest band Retrópico. Huge thanks to Louve Le Coadou and Noémie Chevaucher for their performances, to Paul Chauvin for the cinematography, and to Rémi Dauvergne for his invaluable assistance, as well as to the festival for its technical and logistical support.

A little more post-production, and we’ll be sharing it with you very soon!

My feature film script set in England, The Stagemaster, has just made it to the quarterfinals of the Final Draft Big Break 2024 competition, bringing the total number of accolades to five.

Next step: finding producers to bring it to life. Stay tuned.

My first attempt at a "Mid-Century" illustration. I recently discovered the name of this graphic style, and now it's all I do:

I've decided to draw everything this way for the rest of my life.