La plume du peintre

Every fifteen days, Antoine, five, spends the weekend at his father's house. Time is counted, limited, condensed. For them, two days to do, to do again, to learn, to understand one another and to each other is little ... The father opens his son the initiatory territory of the forest where to kill is not playing. But on the return of the hunt, the father and son are equally disarmed: Antoine refuses to learn to read, and his father knows that this unknown forest of life is even more dangerous if one loses oneself.