Serife Tavsan, a woman in her seventies, has always lived for her family in a quiet Turkish suburb. After her sudden husband’s death, she finds herself alone for the first time. Her worried children send her aimless grandson, Onur, to live with her. As Serife begins to savor her newfound freedom—befriending a young rebellious waitress and an eccentric tour guide —her children grow increasingly alarmed.

A film director, disillusioned with the state of the world, decides to intervene in life itself by making a movie. He mortgages his family’s land and country house - not because his goal is to shoot a film, but to create a brand‐new model of production and, above all, a new ethics of creation. He publishes an impassioned manifesto calling on young people to join him, and soon the country house overflows with hopeful applicants who, inspired by his words, seek not just a job but the thrilling adventure of filmmaking and a chance at a new life.

Berna Tuna, a renowned academic has just died. Her husband, Macit, will take this opportunity to face past wrongdoings and reconnect with his long-neglected daughter İpek. His hope for a fresh start is put to test by his son Alp and his wife’s assistant Feyza, who are strongly attached to Berna’s legacy.

The already complex connections of a group of artists living in İstanbul’s Cihangir district are becoming bizarre because of a camcorder entering their lives. A narcissistic director in which all the women are in love, two roommates connected by cable, a theater scene that can turn into a morgue concurrently, a nurse who resurrects the dead people, and a drug dealer who has no arms, sometimes the right, sometimes the left, sometimes both arms; these are protagonists of the experimental narrative that Onur Ünlü plays with time and space.