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When I was a camera assistant, I remember watching the dailies at the end of a day of shooting. I would take my scooter or my car, go to Epinay, go up the stairs that led to the screening room, where I would wait with a knot in my stomach for the room to go dark and see the raw images, with no sound, where I would see the scenes we had shot the previous day, and my relief when we had gotten it right, and the desire to melt into the darkness when we hadn’t. Those are my first memories of Éclair.