Nature is out of joint. Frogs are raining from the sky. A young woman has returned to her childhood home but no longer feels at home there. The loneliness on a few square metres makes her fall into a kind of twilight state. The anguish erupts in nightmares that leave marks on her body. The past tugs at her, insects take possession of her, her body shell dissolves.
A raven perches in the lemon tree near the house, giving away an egg. The narrator’s voice remembers childhood like a dream. Emotions from back then find physical expression in a constantly changing room. Growing cracks in the wall, proliferating colour stains and crumbling pieces of furniture let the eyes and ears touch interior worlds.
A pop art-punk-psychedelic trip into the life and rich fantasy world of a young 1970s London housewife. Marcia is mesmerised by the astonishing mountain of folds in the bedclothes where the tiny, almost invisible tribe of the mites lives, and drawn into a conversation with the ghost of dirt. But stop, her zeitgeisty-feminist friends are coming over for morning coffee.
Welcome to real life, little mole! Incited by a television report, the comfortable coexistence of the gardener and the builder of mounds is threatened, and not just that, so is the mole’s cosy home underground. Rarely did the colourful Czech animation series for children show such a serious and brutal fight for existence.
