A deeply personal vision of filmmaking
For director Donovan Imbusch, the film is above all a metaphor for contemporary existential angst. Through Félix, he questions our relationship with the past and nostalgia as a refuge from fear of the future.
“I recognise myself in Félix: lost in the face of my choices, anxious about the world and sometimes about myself, I move forward without knowing where I’m going. This film explores nostalgia as a refuge from hardship, while reminding us that we can’t live in the past and that we have to face the future.
His visual universe is rooted in a retro aesthetic, inspired by the 80s and 90s: cathode ray television, vinyl records, minimalist furniture. Colours play a crucial role: red and orange embody the destructive heat of the meteorite, while bluish hues evoke the softness of memories. This contrast reflects the duality between the end of the world and the persistence of memory.
A framework for emotion
Cinematographer Meryem Mrichcha conveys this tension through an introspective and controlled setting.
“This film is not just the story of a man facing his death, but of a young man reliving his most precious memories.”
His choice of camera movements – slow dollies, controlled pans – accompany Félix on his inner journey. The frame becomes a reflection of his emotional state: the slow movements convey restraint and solitude, while the rare moments of panic are captured with more fluid but still measured movements, symbolising a resigned calm in the face of the inevitable.
Light as emotional material
Cinematographer Lucas Fontaine reinforces this symbolic reading through meticulous work on light and saturation. The flat becomes a mirror of Félix’s mind: a stifling space shot through with increasingly invasive warm colours.
“The initial white drifts towards yellow, then orange and finally red, reflecting the growing threat from outside.
The use of smoke and mist densifies the air, making the light visible and creating a climate of visual tension. The exterior, never shown directly, is suggested by aggressive beams filtering through the windows, symbols of a world in flames. During the memory sequence, natural lighting takes over, marking a poetic break with the harshness of reality.
Sound as a bridge between two worlds
Sound designer Esmée Chiron sees the film’s audio universe as a fragile balance between chaos and tranquillity.
“Sound is an essential link in expressing the contrast between Félix’s inner routine and the desolation outside.”
Inside, silence dominates, amplifying every breath and every gesture. Outside, there’s an apocalyptic din of horns, screams and sirens. Between these two worlds, memories form suspended bubbles, carried by a soft, melancholy piano melody. The TV presenter’s deep, saturated voice acts as a constant reminder of reality, oppressive and inevitable.
A sensory and introspective work
End of the World is an immersive sensory experience in which image, light and sound merge to plunge the viewer into the heart of the psyche of a man torn between bewilderment and appeasement. Avoiding the spectacular, the film explores an intimate end of the world, an inner apocalypse in which nostalgia is the last sanctuary.
Through this interior journey, Donovan Imbusch and his team have created a sensitive and masterful work, a meditation on memory, fear and the fragile beauty of existence.