Mirari is Jérémie Brunel’s first feature film. It follows Arthur, a teenage dropout who isolates himself and photographs the world as if to stabilize its contours. When his parents want to liquidate his grandfather’s old store, Arthur takes refuge there and decides to preserve its legacy, whatever the cost. His days are punctuated by images, rituals, and sensory cues that help him cope with a reality that is too noisy. Through encounters and family conflicts, the film suggests—without naming it—a neuroatypical functioning close to the autistic spectrum: a need for routine, overload, hyper-attention to detail. Photography becomes his language, his way of taming the unexpected. Between memory, illusions, and perception, Arthur’s initiation sheds light on the fragility of our attachments: a place can disappear, a lineage can crumble, but a single glance can save. Life appears precarious but tenacious, made up of tiny adjustments that are acts of courage.
Will Arthur be able to transform his inheritance into a promise?