Being mother is the most natural thing in the world. Or so it seems. Yet the demands on women with children have rarely been as overloaded and contradictory as they are in today’s Western world. Promises of happiness are often followed by disadvantages, excessive demands and feelings of guilt. The mother has become an artificially glorified ideal, which nevertheless is often legitimized by the „nature of the woman“. We live in a time when three people could claim to be the same child’s mother: egg donors give their genes to beget children, surrogate mothers deliver babies which they give away immediately after birth, and men raise children by themselves – without a woman at their side. Hence the question arises: What makes a human being a real mother?
A young couple has rented an old, remote house by the Mediterranean sea for the summer. There they meet Elias Urquijo, an enigmatic children books writer, whom they quickly befriend. However, something in the house seems to react to the presence of the guests, something that is trying to warn them about the true identity of Elias and what are his real intentions.
Of my parents exactly one video tape remained. I found it after almost 20 years and I realized: My sister and me never have talked about our loss. We grew up with our grandparents in a Russian-German ghetto somewhere in rural Germany. I want to know what she feels. And I want her to know what I feel.
