Félix (Bouajila, life affirming) cycles along the docks at Dieppe, a nice song, an air of easy, unforced naturalism. He decides to hitch to Marseilles and confront the man who fathered and then abandoned him. All he packs is a kite. So: it's a road movie. Albeit at a gentle pace. En route he stumbles on a racist murder, and is beaten for his trouble. He picks up an art student, and they steal a car just for fun; an old woman press gangs him into carrying her shopping; and the mother of a multitude gives him a lift as she drops off her brood with their various fathers for weekend visits. Chapter headings underscore the obvious: that these encounters supply Félix with his own surrogate family: a younger brother; a grandmother; wife and children. The journey may not be 'that original' as Félix concedes, but it's suffused with tenderness and warmth.