A young woman crosses a confined provincial town and its outskirts. Once at her destination, a strange mourning protocol awaits her.

Marianne, a heroine for a day, is interviewed by a young journalist. Despite of all the misunderstandings, a meeting takes place, brief, tenuous, human.

“At last it's party time, at last there's the fire,“ sing Clem and Ibra in the middle of a deserted village. Succumbing to the heat wave, languor consumes them. In the distance, the lights of the city and the celebration attract them.

Andréa spends the summer writing in a holiday home. Inconsolable after a break-up, she urges her sister Ninon to join. But her ex-girlfriend Elise unexpectedly shows up to patch things up. And it’s already too late to tell Ninon not to come. Let the full game begin.

In a remote village, young Luka has already seen the worst. His father's disease and a very close relationship with his mother have made him the man of the house. During the male nurse's daily visit, an unexpected invitation to have lunch awakens his jealousy. He decides, then, to bring his own guest. Freely inspired by Georges Bataille’s childhood.

A club in Paris. Driving techno beats sweep everyone away. People dance, consume and talk. Félicie meets Saïd and takes him to her place for an afterparty. On the cusp between night and day, different lives and views collide.

In 1988, writer Kader Abdolah fled Iran and arrived in the Netherlands at 33, without knowing a word of Dutch. Twenty-five years later, his novel The House of the Mosque was voted the second-best book ever written in Dutch. The son of a mute carpet repairman, Kader had been his father’s ears and voice since childhood. This documentary explores his journey, his perpetual search for words, and the delicate balance between embracing his new life and preserving his culture.

Athens. Nothing seems to move. The locals seem as still as statues. While at the same time, somewhere, a caryatid is escaping from a museum and a small group of people demands the destruction of all antiques. Would film be the only way to avoid stone-cold indifference?