Adrian is seven and growing up in Salzburg. His young mother Helga and her boyfriend are both heroin addicts; his biological father died before he was born. Helga loves her son above all else. She is torn between her attempts to be the best mother possible and her need to fill the void inside with the consumption of drugs. In this world, privation is the norm. What little money there is goes to heroin, and although Helga keeps trying to kick the habit, her efforts regularly come to nought. All of this is part of young Adrian’s daily life. His world is nonetheless full of adventure and all kinds of experiences and he perceives his to be a happy childhood. It goes without saying that this happiness is far from being an innocent idyll. When Helga finally decides to face up to her addiction and undergo treatment it also means that she must – albeit temporarily – surrender custody of her son to social services.
Vienna 1945: The powder keg of war and the Russian occupation as seen through the innocent eyes of nine-year-old Christine. She knows as little about peace as children today know about war. Bombed out and penniless, she and her family are put up in a fancy villa on the outskirts of Vienna. They now have a roof over their heads – nothing more. After the German soldiers capitulate, the Russians take over the house. Everybody is scared of the Russians, who are believed to be a capricious lot. Everybody, except Christine.
How many forms can a modern family have? What kind of family do we want? Do we want one at all? An intimate look into parenting and partnerships today shows six different stories, six views on parenting and six different forms of family. For some it was a choice, some gradually came to it, some had no choice, and for some it didn't work out. Some might've done it differently, some wouldn't, some are happy, and others frustrated. But their stories represent many similar ones and families that are similar to their own.
Guatemala, in the 1980s. The worst days of the Civil war. Andrés is 9 years old. He lives with Pedro González, one of the men who massacred all the women and children in his village. Andrés has survived, but he’s scared. Pedro’s wife, María, is also scared: scared to go out, scared to lose Andrés, whom she considers as “her new son”. Even Pedro is scared: scared of himself and what the Army orders him to do. Andrés would like to run away, but he also wants to stay in his new family – until his sister appears.