Five girls, five boys seclude themselves in countryside home. Taking turns on guard duty, they kiss, play-act death. Still kids, isolated, living in the moment. Outsiders unwelcome in their summer refuge.

The Bastards have left the city behind. Their house in the countryside smells of nothing but summer. Five girls and five boys living in the moment, for the moment. No outsider comes around here, and all the insiders take turns standing guard, kissing each other, playing dead. They are still kids. They are your kids. They are our Bastards.—Thessaloniki International Film Festival