Olivier Marguerit

France, 1983. The biggest architectural competition in history is launched by the new socialist president, François Mitterrand. Coveted by all the biggest international architectural firms, the open-call competition is surprisingly won by an unknown: Johan Otto von Spreckelsen, an architecture teacher from Copenhagen. Until then, the fifty-year-old Dane had built only four buildings: his home, and three small chapels.

Between the nostalgia of resurfacing roots and the desire to venture into song to experience a rebirth, Nicolas Maury reveals himself unguarded before Didier Varrod, with a deeply moving sincerity. Nicolas Maury released his first album, La porcelaine de Limoges, in January 2023—a new experience for this unique, demanding, and multifaceted actor. It is an opportunity to paint an intimate portrait of him through an extended interview on a train between Paris and Limoges. In this specific setting, which was also that of his first (silent) film role with Patrice Chéreau in Those Who Love Me Can Take the Train, Nicolas discovers archives and hears from close acquaintances who speak about him. A documentary film, like a kind of initiation rite, it moves back and forth between memories of France and childhood, and his condition as a man and artist today, taking on a new identity through music.

On a chilly Sunday morning, a man awakens to the mischievous stare of a unicorn that seems to have come straight out of his dreams. Carried along by an early morning sensuality, his fantasies transform his lonely apartment into a garden of delights, in which this young creature can freely reap the fruits of his desires.

While Koala, the quartermaster, deeply sleeps, Captain Diamand tells the young sailor Luciole about the finest memory of his youth. She was called Cinnamon.