Un couple se dirige vers un train en partance pour Venise. Sur le quai, Julien annonce à Marie qu’il part en rejoindre une autre et s’en va, la laissant seule à Paris, enceinte. Bouleversée, Marie se refuse à être victime de cette situation. Elle trouve du réconfort dans son travail auprès de ses deux « cow-boys » de patrons, Jean-Jacques et Jean-Loup, qui dirigent un cinéma du quartier latin spécialisé dans les films classiques américains…

Two lesbians are victims of a break-in. Together with their clan of friends, they undertake a wild investigation, with suspense and rigour, to arrive at the truth. Sensitivities are aroused around life choices, and political choices. Questions of morality comically embellished with words of abuse falling into drunkenness.

A few months before he died, Jean-Louis Comolli meets up with Dominique Cabrera for some free conversations with Isabelle Le Corff. They talk about cinema, life, love, death and Chassagne-Montrachet wine. There is laughter and smiles. One is not really serious at the age of eighty.

On September 26, 1992, four towers in the Val Fourré neighborhood of Mantes-la-Jolie were destroyed. In the spring of 1991, Dominique Cabrera proposed to some of the former residents to retrace their steps. They go through their old dwellings evoking the memories of the past years. All the life of the housing estate resurfaces, convivial, and to say the least, happy.

In 2002, on the occasion of her brother’s wedding, Dominique Cabrera begun to shoot the gathering, and decided to continue over 10 years, time imprinting its marks on her family and "becoming the film" as she expresses it. Halfway between Agnès Varda and Alain Cavalier, Dominique Cabrera delivers a sensitive film both intimate and universal: "Ten years ago, my brother Bernard got married for the second time. We all went to the wedding in Boston, where he lives. It felt as if we were four little children again with our mom and dad. I had brought along a small camera, which I began to use to film our family. I've continued to this day..."