'The Great Wall has been completed at its most southerly point'. So begins Kafka's short story 'At the Building of the Great Wall of China', and so, at Europe's heavily militarised south-eastern frontier, begins this film. In the shadow of its own narratives of freedom, Europe has been building its own great wall. Like its Chinese precursor, this wall has been piecemeal in construction, diverse in form and dubious in utility. 'The Great Wall' moves across fortified landscapes, pausing with those whose lives are framed by borders. Moving inward toward the seat of power, the film holds the European project up to a dazzling cinematic light, refracted through Kafka's mysterious text; ultimately questioning the nature of power.

This is a cinematic ode to the moon, made in large part from archival sources combined with literary fragments and bound together by a haunting original score. The film steps lightly through the ideas that people through the ages have drawn from the moon — dreams of escape, myths of heaven, songs of longing and loss, odes of yearning, stories of lost futures — taking the viewer on a constantly surprising night-walk through the night sky.