Hitler had no children—but suppose he had. What would they have said to their father? And to the world? He did have a dog, Blondi.

Eleven children, an actress, and a drummer dive into their own histories and, through a series of physical attempts, try to position themselves in relation to the actions of the adults who came before them, in order to gain some grip on the future they now find themselves in the middle of. They stomp, run, question, get angry, want to be stroked, and dance themselves free from expectations.

Because are you always responsible for what your family has done, even if you never knew them? And must children always save the future—and everything in between? Let’s talk about who actually made the mess.