Patrick is obsessed with the notion of departure. He spends his free time day-dreaming about the big trip he will take, not as a vacation, but for forever. He has replayed his resignation in his head from the seaside casino where he works a thousand times. Brochures fill his mailbox as his travel agent tries to get him to settle on a destination. He has everything he needs: the new suitcase, a pair of flip-flops, a Swiss Army knife. He even sleeps with the waitress at his favorite Thai restaurant--the wife of the owner-- to transport himself to exotic shores in anticipation of his trip. The one thing he can’t do is go. The immaculate studio he’s lived in for decades, his neighbor and sole friend Pascal with his messy life, the topography of the women he loves, all these things keep him in place, unable to leave.

In this indirect jab at the tourism industry, Laurent Graff’s sardonic and loving world view sings in praise of the inner journey.