In a world sketched in black ink, raw and unadorned, a paper airplane comes to life in a little boy’s bedroom. Without a defined destination, it embarks on a journey around the world.
The film unfolds in a single, uninterrupted five-minute take. The camera follows the paper plane in a fluid drift through minimalist landscapes: fragmented cities, scribbled mountains, oceans suggested by a few trembling lines. Everything is monochromatic, in the spirit of Marjane Satrapi’s drawings: an expressive, deeply evocative black and white.
As it travels, the paper plane passes through scenes suspended between reality and imagination: frozen deserts that come alive as it passes, trees of unreal proportions, monuments that seem abandoned.
This journey is not geographical; it is internal. The paper plane becomes the thread of a gentle, melancholic, almost magical reverie, evoking childhood, escape, and the universal need to get away, if only for a moment.
Without dialogue, this short animated film offers an immersive and contemplative experience—a timeless interlude, as fragile as the paper from which it is made.