On this first of May 1986, a strange dust floats in the air. Between yesterday and today, a stroll through Paris and the images, as strident as they are irradiated.

Jan Peters films and talks every day, every day fills a reel of Super-8 or 16mm film. He speaks to the camera, or records a commentary on the images he is filming. For a month, Jan Peters tries to reflect on different themes, and events sometimes come to upset his plans. A quasi-police investigation in Belgium interferes with an intimate relationship; technical problems of all kinds (sound, image, light, film development, automobile mechanics) force the filmmaker to invent other solutions; a debate between filmmakers on the theme of the power of images turns into burlesque; artist friends want to contribute to the film that is being made. Thus, day after day, a film is built. Some things are planned, others are not.

Without question, a highway rest stop plays the real leading role. This is where Paul (an aspiring filmmaker) and his camera (an outdated Super 8 sound film model) meet Anna (plagued by insomnia), Frank (her arrogant Parisian boyfriend or ex-boyfriend—you never know) and a bunch of strange and/or marginalized people.