In this ramshackle world, between fantasy and fantastic, lives a man, Tarik. Tarik wears makeup and dresses as a woman. He dances on a cart drawn by a dying horse and a father who doesn’t watch him anymore. He dances to the sound of a brass band composed of poor wretches, outcasts, punks, with or without dogs, and misfits who are filled with inertia. Followed by the crowd, Tarik vibrates with feminine sensuality, abandoning himself to this passion, his face barred by a moustache claiming his truncated manhood.