Infused in both my film and music practices, Zelda is dreamlike when you’re just a kid exploring your own imagination. It’s a mythical surrealism that feels ancient and otherworldly, melancholic and grand. Also with an incredible soundtrack, I loved to play the ocarina. My first time playing music on screen.

Growing up in France in a Vietnamese household, this was my first exposition to a movie rooted in Asian culture. A sense of both familiarity and exoticism. Through one of today’s lense and discourses, it’s quite wild how they flipped genders expectations for a Disney movie. I definitely felt more Mulan than Jackie Chan.

Vincent Moon’s instinctive ethnomusical approach to music was one of my earliest influences through Petites Planètes and La Blogothèque in the early days of YouTube. Later on, I got a Canon 7D with a cheap plastic 50mm lens and started shooting bands. His extensive body of work captures music from all corners of the globe in its rawest and honest form, usually sacred music, rituals and trance ceremonies. It’s filmmaking as an act of presence and communion, stripped down of all artifice.

I watched it when I was really sleepy and it turned out to be the right state for that, when time perception is diluted and the subconscious reveals itself. Films can be nonlinear. Films can be like painting dreams.

World-building with class. No CGI, no 3D. Its ambiguous yet epic feel gave me goosebumps and stuck with me. The track is also iconic, one of my personal classics in the electronic-emotional-dance spectrum.

“But to find the truth we need imagination and skepticism.” The first music video I got obsessed with. Power of symbols and surrealism. Trailer of a film that doesn’t exist. Early Canada and Vimeo days.

Chassol harmonizes reality. His concept of “ultrascore” accompanies life as it unfolds. It’s jazz within nature and life, it’s newform documentary, it’s playful poetry.

One of the latest movies that marked me. Fate, identity, and the coexistence in between eastern & western paradigms. Beautifully shot with utter simplicity. Felt a lot of peace after watching it.

There’s something raw and sincere in karaoke clips, made for people singing not to perform, but to feel. That mix of joy, imperfection, and everyday intimacy. It flips the usual relationship between the video and the viewer. Viewer becomes a performer, and becomes vulnerable. It’s video interaction in its purest form, a catalyst for emotions. That’s my go-to Karaoke track that I can sing with my broken Vietnamese. It gives me a feeling of nostalgia for a life that I’ve never lived.