When you’re young, summer feels like pure magic – a time when anything seems possible. But for parents, that same season can be more complicated. Even during a week or two off work, the challenge of truly relaxing while managing the kids is very real. There’s a delicate balance between unwinding and keeping family time on track. In Mathilde Bédouet’s evocative short, Été 96 (Summer ’96), that balance tips. What begins as a simple day at the beach slowly unravels into something far more stressful, all because of a brief lapse in attention.The vibe for Bédouet’s summery short starts perfectly. Waves crash, seagulls call, and the nostalgic melody of Alain Souchon’s L’amour à la machine drifts from a car radio, transporting us instantly. As the visuals fade in, we join a family mid-road trip, their car packed to the brim as they make their way to a secluded beach. Everything feels idyllic – until it doesn’t. The only road to the beach is one that vanishes at high tide… and Dad, it turns out, has misread the tide chart.The story is told from the perspective of Paul, a young child on the trip caught between innocence and awareness.Told through the eyes of Paul, one of the young children on the trip, the film begins with a sense of carefree innocence – giggles during sunscreen application, silly faces pulled for the family video camera. But beneath the surface, hints of unease begin to emerge. Paul’s uncertainty in the water, the rising tension between his parents, and the growing anxiety as the family becomes stranded on the island all suggest that something is shifting.The emotional authenticity is striking – and it makes sense once you learn how the project began. Bédouet was inspired after discovering old VHS tapes of family holidays in a basement. Initially, setting out to make a documentary using the found footage, hoping to capture the untamed freedom of childhood summers spent running wild with other kids. But as memories resurfaced – particularly stories of cars getting stuck on the road to Callot Island, a frequent childhood destination – the project evolved into a fictional coming-of-age tale, rooted in real experiences and soaked in nostalgic detail.The film’s rotoscoped approach allowed Bédouet to focus on certain elements in the frame.Aware that short films based on old home movies were fairly common, Bédouet and her team set out to create something visually distinct. Their solution: rotoscoping. After filming with live actors – a step Bédouet considered essential to capturing the energy and spontaneity of the children – the footage was edited and locked, then printed frame by frame (at eight frames per second) onto paper. Over 5,000 prints were placed on a lightbox, where Bédouet used coloured pencils to hand-draw the elements that most intrigued her in each frame.The choice to use coloured pencils – primarily in bright, primary tones – proved vital to the film’s emotional impact. Though the process took more than two years to complete, the result is both tactile and nostalgic, perfectly aligning with the film’s tone. Été 96 isn’t just about a family beach trip gone awry – it’s about a fleeting childhood memory suddenly resurfaced. By blending realism with a touch of abstraction, rotoscoping gave Bédouet the freedom to highlight specific moments and sensations, while still preserving the believability of lived experience. It’s a technique that mirrors memory itself: imperfect, selective, and deeply felt.It’s remarkable to think that Été 96 marks Bédouet’s debut short. Already earning her the César Award for Best Animated Short Film in 2024, it’s a striking introduction to a distinctive new voice in animation. If this is just the beginning of her filmmaking journey, we can’t wait to see what comes next.