The homeless are subject to the daily, public gaze that obviously deprives them of any privacy. At the same time, it is through the filmmaker's gaze that the subject is revealed to viewers: it is through this that dialogue - and therefore listening - crystallizes. This process permits the reappropriation of a horizon characterized by indifference, but also by control. Through our horizontal, interconnected, and public gaze, we refuse and prohibit all behavior and bodily activities that fall within the private sphere. So there's no possibility of exposing, mixing, or forgetting: those moments when you no longer really have a body of your own, when you become one. These necessary exchanges are nevertheless vectors of trust, survival, organization, and, consequently, reintegration. This status is highly unbearable, because it forces the homeless to cling to the stores, to feel the heat of these ultra-frequented stations that monitor, protect, search, and filter out any deviant potentialities that might infringe on privacy. It is through this interdependence, which tends towards immobility, that the homeless gain a little security and visibility. Indeed, the documentary ends with this chilling revelation: "To this day, couples are not recognized by Belgium's main overnight shelters". This love room then acts like a fire that dazzles our eyes and burns this periscopic gaze in a bid to recapture the warmth of skin.

Rémi Journet
Tënk Canada's editorial assistant