A husband and wife, three children, a rich father and a middle-class or above life in Paris, they are not peaceful, but they are living together. Adolescence, menopause, intertwined father-son rift and mother-daughter conflict.
This is life, flies and dogs, living their own lives in the name of a family. On the one hand, everyone wants to be independent and get rid of the shackles of their families. The eldest son moved out early, the second son is used to the life of his unemployed youth, and the youngest daughter paints a smoky makeup. The housewife's wife went to school for art classes, while her husband insisted that it was a big single-family house with floor-to-ceiling windows that he bought with money from driving a taxi, but he borrowed money from his father first and paid it back every month. On the other hand, everyone hopes to be recognized and understood by their family members. From the first time everyone roars away from the table to the last time the heart knot before the death of the husband is resolved. The good life only appears in videotapes of summer trips, becoming ritualistic reminiscences.
When life begins, it is the memory of family members, and when life ends, it is a death registration form filled out by family members. We went through a happy day together, a sad day, and then started our own life again.
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