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An Israeli landlady invites her two tenants, directors of the film, to take tea in her living room. Curious, they question her about her house … without suspecting that their questions will both compromise and make possible the existence of this film.

The process in itself is attractive : something of a cinema that is falsely naïve that is at the end surrounded by maturity. But the movie, full of surprises, would only be clever, if it wasn’t evoking the anecdote about a very important matter : the household. The objects, ridiculous, but erected as symbols in a sickening way, turn out to embody the concept of propriety and its limits. A happy and sassy documentary, definitely political, which, like a “Ceci n’est pas un film”, explores the cinema’s possibilities against every form of censorship and collective amnesia.