Graduating with a history degree feels noble—until you realize most history majors can’t immediately turn Viking sagas or ancient empires into paychecks. Piscine Pro (Pro Pool) by Alec Pronovost captures that landing-in-reality moment with gentle humor, frustration, and a lot of genuine heart.
Charles-Olivier is fresh out of university, degree in hand, ready for something meaningful. When jobs in his field don’t materialize, he takes a clerk position in a pool shop—a far cry from what he studied. The comedy arises from everyday indignities: the quirky customers, awkward colleague interactions, and the dissonance between “what I imagined” and “what I actually do.”
Pronovost draws heavily from his own life—he once worked in a pool shop himself. That lived experience shines through in the small details: the way Charles-Olivier arranges pool supplies, his hesitations at the cash register, and the creeping resentment that builds when former classmates seem to zoom past his stalled version of success.
The film is structured as short vignettes—snatches of moments that together build a portrait of someone juggling dignity, doubt, and monotony. The editing is sharp and rhythmic; you almost feel the drudgery of retail time: each task tacked onto the next, with escalating absurdity. There’s a scene where Charles-Olivier listens to heavy music in his car—something loud and defiant—before stepping into the pool shop, where everything is polite and soft. That contrast hits a lot harder than grand gestures.
Supporting characters are wonderfully drawn: brief but memorable. A manager more obsessed with rules than people; colleagues who don’t hide their boredom; customers who demand things but show no understanding of what it takes just to work there. They all help reflect Charles-Olivier’s internal struggle—settling vs. aspiring, indifference vs. self-worth.
Pronovost also knows how to deliver a strong climax. After simmering annoyance, Charles-Olivier reaches a point where he can’t just swallow the disrespect or the missed opportunity. The final turn feels earned. “Adulting” is not glamorized—it’s messy, sometimes ridiculous, but in Piscine Pro, it’s made relatable.
This is a comedy, yes, but it lingers with you because it’s about waiting—to be where you want; waiting to be recognized; waiting to find meaning. For many, retail jobs or “less ideal gigs” aren’t failures—they’re survival acts, stepping stones, or temporary scaffolding. Piscine Pro honors that pause.
Pronovost’s film has played at festivals in Canada and abroad. It’s been praised for its authenticity, its eye for the painful funny, and its unwillingness to pretend that career paths are tidy.
