Under the benevolent shadow of Jean Genet, buried in Morocco,  this film is a dialogue between the living and the dead, an invitation to bring those realms together, between silent humanist revolt and poetic elegy. A family takes loving care of a white tomb, in a cemetery with a view of the sea. We are in Larache, south of Tangier, where Jean Genet lived the last ten years of his life.  Today, the writer is finally home, among his own. And for the locals of the city, he is a legend.Few of them actually knew him. Still fewer have read him. Most all have reinvented him for themselves. Everyone has their own story to tell. But they all agree on onething: “Jon Joney” valued them. He was on their side. Thesesimple, poor, quite frankly invisible individuals form the voiceless and futureless people of Morocco. Living incarnations of the characters in hiswork, they now keep watch over his grave.

At the beginning of the 70s, Jean Genet is in Tangier, he is in his sixties and he no longer writes. He lives in the El Minza hotel, a palace, where he spends entire days reading, smoking and sleeping (he takes Nembutal, a barbiturate used as a sleeping pill). He only goes out at the beginning of the afternoon to have a coffee with milk in one of the bars of Petit Socco. He sometimes meets the young Moroccan writer Mohamed Choukri there. Their discussion is banal, friendly. Sometimes they talk about literature. Genet no longer writes, but is still inhabited by it.