“Et c’est encore, et c’est toujours l’enfer du séjour inchangeable. Des chiens sans laisse, mais non sans crocs, pleurent en hurlant, un maître féroce, auprès d’une tombe fraîche. Il y a un grand appel d’on ne sait quoi de grave.” (Henri Michaux)

“A film-poem in 18 waves, as many scenes to describe Paris and its urban landscapes crossed by a “young isolated underage foreigner,” the attacks, the white roses, the state of emergency, the blue-white-red flag, the Atlantic Ocean and its crossings, volcanos, beat-box, revolt, rage, state violence, revolutionary songs, silence, and joy... nothing but joy.” (Sylvain George)