An old black and white photo: a six-year-old girl holds her younger brother by the hand. Decades later, we see Holle, now in her mid-fifties and a spiritual healer, and her brother Sven, who suffers from schizophrenia. He has been living in isolation in the attic of his parents' house for 30 years. The family has come to terms with this—only Holle can never quite accept the stagnation. When their mother has to go into hospital, the fragile balance is shaken.

Im Haus meiner Eltern is a haunting reflection on family, responsibility and closeness. The film by Offenbach director Tim Ellrich remains consistently in black and white, reducing impressions and at the same time sharpening the gaze. Scenes end abruptly, pauses in black leave room for reflection. Holle's healing work without touching becomes a metaphor for the art of film itself: The film touches without being physically tangible. Documentary elements and staged scenes interweave to create a multi-layered narrative about belonging and the question: why do we care for those we have never chosen to care for?