Some people dream about America, others about a hut in Canada. In my family, we dream about Spain, the only country which did not arrest Jewish nationals during the war. An anti-movie of family, withoutlooking at the beginning, without pilgrimage to the graves of ancestors, which mixes, in a comic whim, unleavened bread and bullfighting, suitcases always ready, westerns, fried squids. The reverse angle of the movie, it is the East and Poland, evoked through the Spanish landscapes (and Canadians) that the central figure travels through, a sort of avatar of Monsieur Hulot.
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