Dans ma tête un rond-point
(Fi rassi rond-point)

In the largest slaughterhouse in Algiers, men live and work in a closed environment, to the throbbing rhythms of their tasks and dreams. Their talk of hope, bitterness, love, heaven and hell, football echoes the Chaabi and Raï melodies that set the tempo of their life and world. “The film is really built out of its characters, and their status matches the form taken by the film – the useful duration of the shots, a possible dialogue with the person filming them. In this way, the abattoir is not simply a hellish place of perpetual slaughter, but also a place isolated from the world that acts as a sounding board for words that are suddenly liberated and liberating.”(Laura Tuillier, les Cahiers du cinéma)