The flat, on the third floor of a Bauhaus building in Tel Aviv, was where my grandparents lived since they immigrated to Palestine. Were it not for the view from the windows, one might have thought that the flat was in Berlin. There it was, furnished with heavy European pieces, with the best of German literature, and laden with layers of dust and history. And then, at age 98, my grandmother died and we were called to the flat to empty what was left. Objects, pictures, letters, and documents awaited us, revealing the complex lives of my grandparents Gerda and Kurt Tuchler, as well as traces of a troubled and painful past. Suddenly, I found myself going through every drawer, trying to make sense of the hints left behind.

What is the importance of knowing one’s family history? Is it just a heavy and unnecessary burden? In my family’s case, this question never came up. To be honest, we never discussed anything about the past. That is, until we opened the closets…. The film develops into a riveting adventure, involving unexpected national interests, a friendship that crosses enemy lines, deeply repressed family emotions, and even reveals some secrets that should have probably remained untold.