Waiting (all the time) 2026
In Emmanuelle Lacombe's upcoming short film *Waiting (all the time)* (2026), seven strangers find their fates intertwined in the sterile glow of a hospital emergency room.
Director: Emmanuelle Lacombe
Cast
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Waiting (all the time) (2026) about?
*Waiting (all the time)* follows seven patients trapped in the purgatory of a hospital emergency room, where the unbearable wait becomes a catalyst for raw, interconnected confessions. Through four choral monologues, the film explores themes of pain, resilience, and the fragile expectations that emerge in life's most uncertain moments.
Who directed Waiting (all the time)?
The film is directed by Emmanuelle Lacombe, known for her evocative storytelling and keen eye for human drama.
Who stars in Waiting (all the time)?
The cast features Joanie Guérin, Guy Thauvette, Olivier Turcotte, and Charlène Beaubien, each bringing depth to their roles in this ensemble-driven short.
Is Waiting (all the time) (2026) worth watching?
With its concise 13-minute runtime, *Waiting (all the time)* offers a deeply atmospheric and emotionally resonant experience. While unrated, its focus on universal themes makes it a compelling watch for fans of character-driven short films, offering a glimpse of Lacombe's directorial prowess before its full release.
How long is Waiting (all the time)?
The film runs for 13 minutes.
About Waiting (all the time) (2026) — A Short Film of Shared Patience and Unspoken Truths
In Emmanuelle Lacombe's upcoming short film *Waiting (all the time)* (2026), seven strangers find their fates intertwined in the sterile glow of a hospital emergency room. As the minutes stretch into an eternity, the weight of each patient's unspoken fears, raw frustrations, and quiet hopes begins to unravel in four choral monologues that pulse with raw emotion. Lacombe crafts an atmospheric study of human vulnerability, where silence speaks louder than words and the passage of time becomes both a prison and a release.
With its intimate scale and layered storytelling, the film transforms the impersonal waiting room into a stage for confessions, exposing the fragile threads that connect us all in moments of crisis. The claustrophobic tension of the setting amplifies every sigh, every restless shift in a chair, making *Waiting (all the time)* a poignant meditation on patience, pain, and the unexpected bonds forged in life's most trying intervals.