Caretakers

The film follows two Hungarian women, who are forming opposite drives from being away from family. Every decision Zsuzsa makes is driven by her desire to return home, while Beata desperately searches for a path to legal residency in the U.S. Their lives begin to dissolve into one another, forming a silent dialogue across continents, an abstract conversation that connects them, though they have never met.

Zsuzsa’s story seems to follow a clear goal: earning money to finish building the family house to move back to. Yet, her travels become a form of escape, from her alcoholic husband, her ailing mother, and a lifetime of inherited social and emotional burdens. We witness Zsuzsa’s growing dependence on the distance that once seemed temporary. The house becomes a hollow victory, unable to contain the transformation she has undergone abroad. When her mother dies and her husband’s drinking continues, Zsuzsa faces the unsettling realization that home no longer feels like home. The arrival of her grandson, however, offers a fragile sense of renewal, a possibility that the generational cycle of struggle and resignation might finally be broken.

Beata’s story unfolds in vibrant contrast, set in Brooklyn. Her life, though equally defined by caregiving, radiates a sense of defiance. Through scenes of laughter, riding the Cyclone at Coney Island or visiting tattoo parlors with Mancika, her 98-year-old patient, the film reveals that work and intimacy merge completely. Beneath that lies a growing unease: eight years without papers and family. As political tensions rise around immigration, she embarks on a quest for finding an American husband. When her grandson visits, the exuberant reunion slowly turns melancholic, exposing the cost of her absence.

The film with heartfelt humour weaves an unseen thread of communication, where each woman’s longing mirrors the others, and their stories echo like two halves of the same unspoken confession on the shared theme of displacement.