Picture a gigantic warehouse; above you the ceiling reaches excessive heights, below you the ground is still soaked from the hundreds of ice-filled polystyrene crates that were there just hours before. In the middle of it all, place an immense silhouette in a white coat, gesticulating, masked, in this empty and menacing space. Then throw in a drone, a weird voice and a harrowing rhythm. And there you go: Liars, alone in Rungis International fish market.