This film is a very personal account of moments lived by the director with her father. A personal account, yet told with the proper distance, in that cinema is ever-present between father and daughter: as a passion, a life choice, and a way of being in the world. Cinema as a web that underlies the story of their exchanges and creates a space for imagination. “With cinema,” the father says, “you can escape. With your own mind”. Images are sparked by memories and like memories amplify a few notable markers while erasing others. Spare images, where there is hardly anything other than the two of them, and the marker that is present always has something monstrous about it: large things are exceptionally large; distant things are incredibly far; sunbeams are ablaze; nearby things are much too close. As for the movie sets, however, everything is in excess: confusion, urgency, people, noise—and everything here is also amplified. In these sets is the thrill of communal life. The ones featured in the film are those of Pinocchio, built in the middle of nowhere in the barren countryside.