Just as when we were children, certain damp patches on the ceiling could lead us into mysterious worlds, Patrick Corillon's animated films release phantasmagorical images in which everyone can indulge in their own reveries. In this climate of disquieting strangeness, stories come to life, like a distant echo of the tales and legends which, since the dawn of time, have plunged us with delight into the unknown part of ourselves. These films return to the spirit of the early days of cinema, when all original experiments were good for telling a story. And sometimes the haunting music, the adventurous graphics of the intertitles, the wide eyes of the silent characters opened the doors to hallucinated worlds.

The curtain of the Apocalypse


‘The wind will shake the dead branches.
The leaves will fall on the hollow stones
and break them into a thousand grains of sand.’



Russian tale


The next morning, the child woke up as bookworm. On discovering him, his mother cried out:
‘I told you so! With all those books of yours, this is what you have become. What are we going to do with you now?’
The father said nothing.



Glasgolia is the search for what we sorely miss,
something which perhaps doesn’t exist anywhere on earth,
yet which we feel we knew a very long time ago,
before losing it for good.




‘Before every high point in your life,
a little red dot will always appear somewhere.
It’s up to you to spot it
and above all grasp its true meaning.’

Lapp tale


‘It’s normal that you should be cold, you are made of snow. Being cold is part of your nature.
If you weren’t cold, you wouldn’t be you anymore.’


Marbled paper


Je n’avais encore jamais lu un livre comme cela. Les verres de

I had never read a book like that before. My grandfather’s glasses distorted the letters so much that the words took on the shape of animals and fantastic characters.

What my eyes have seen


‘Deep down inside us, memories abound.
Day and night, they come and go, and tickle us.’

Mute minuet


The child closes his eyes and sees the one who lost him in the forest appear in the distance: the spirit of the woods.
‘Hello, you called me?’, says the one who loses children in the forest.
‘Yes’, replies the child, ‘I want to know what you are going to do with me now’.

Play elsewhere


First of all, the water was flat, and the stones were round.
The water was bored, and the stones were having fun. They were tumbling around in the void.


The hair


In the Ardennes, it is customary to cut a lock of hair from the deceased and weave it into small figurines which are placed on a windowsill. The hair, reacting to humidity, gives life to the figurines. During family gatherings, the elders use this phenomenon to tell stories.