François is 39, Muriel is 22... He is married, with a child, and lives comfortably. She is single and unattached. They meet by chance... He wants her... She resists... Gives in... Latches on to him... There is a name for it: adultery. Adultery in all its fleeting joys, rare moments, creeping jealousy, open conflicts, stolen pleasures, tears held back, tears shed.
On a moonless night, a character with overlong arms walks. Preceded by his shadow, he goes to an arena where he is about to perform a ritual.
A village in Brittany. During the ten days leading up to All Souls Day, we can see it in its entirety "inhabiting" the cemetery, going from gravestone to gravestone for the rituals of cleaning, flowering and praying. Telling its story through its faces, its voices and its ambulations.
The story of an egg trapped inside a frying-pan trying to escape its fate, symbolized by a huge spatula, determined to attack him.
