Love Me, Love My Doll

A quiet, uncomfortable documentary that sits with lonely people and their animals, leaving you with a lingering ache.

A gentle, melancholic Parisian slice of life about two lonely people circling each other, quietly hopeful and quietly sad at once.

A quiet, intimate documentary that drifts between strangers' lives, asking you to sit with their longing and tenderness.

A gentle, curious peek into other people's passions, amusing and a little touching without ever judging them.

A quiet, intimate diary of searching for connection, more wistful than sad, and gently hopeful.

A quiet, uncomfortable look inside a man's cluttered world, mixing curiosity with a faint sadness.

A tender, melancholic meditation on loneliness and love that feels like a warm, bittersweet conversation with a close friend.

A quiet, observant documentary that sits with five older women as they navigate solitude, aging and visibility with dignity and candor. Gentle and reflective rather than dramatic, it asks for patient attention and rewards it with intimacy.}{.

A quiet, observational look inside a hidden world, intimate and human, with moments of tenderness and melancholy.

A curious, intimate drift through private rooms and private desires, by turns voyeuristic, tender and quietly lonely.

A quiet, sensual slow-burn that feels like stepping into a sleek, intimate fantasy, more mood than story.

A gentle, quietly moving documentary that lets older voices reflect on lives lived under constraint and the late freedom of finding community.