That Which Does Not Kill

Apocalyptic depiction of an area literally engulfed by the mining industry is presented in this documentary that observes the eponymous northern Swedish city, part of which was abandoned due to activities in the nearby iron mine. The mining company’s management decided not to halt profitable mining activities and instead made the decision to move the residents of the threatened district. Using footage shot in the city inside the Arctic Circle and directly in the mines, the director has uncovered subtle film imagery, and using the stories of three protagonists now living in a bizarre inter-time, imaginatively addresses the topics of resettlement, tradition, and respect for a particular location. “The dystopian story of Kiruna is about lost people looking for a home in an uprooted city. It shows the dark side of the advanced society, whether in Sweden or the Czech Republic.” G. Stocklassa

For most people, reunions are a pleasant affair. But not for those who spent their school years being hazed, subjected to psychological terror, and consistently ignored. This reconstruction can be seen as a meditation on the painful side of childhood and adolescence through the unforgiving objectivity of an adult.

A documentary decoupage of deceleration and a poetic reflection upon man’s relationship to time and space. In long, static shots, the Portuguese director unfolds his grandmother’s final days into a series of staged scenes. Dependent on the help of others and isolated in her own home, her life is intertwined with the intimate space of her life. When the director steps into his grandmother’s home and into her act of dying, he suddenly feels like an intruder. He becomes intensely aware of the boundary of privacy, the boundary between one person and the next – a boundary that can only be overcome by love.

Like thousands of other African immigrants, Labrun from Congo embarks on an entrepreneurial mission to find work in Chinese Canton. However, things soon get complicated and he becomes stranded in the overpopulated megalopolis. Against the backdrop of the improvised actions of a fictitious protagonist in a real environment, the director provides an insight into the growing relationship between China and Africa.

This impressionist semi-documentary road movie paints a mysteriously anthropological picture of the United States. Focusing on hobos and dreamers without a hint of demographic exploitation, the film presents an intuitive portrait of Bob, who sets out across the country in search of his own “MacGuffin”, the con artist Bill. This fractured portrait of elusive individuals eventually reaches an inconspicuous catharsis in a desert trailer park. The director shows its residents’ downfall through one swing of the golf club, with which an errant soul sends a dirty tennis ball into the air like a silent appeal.  

Can a critical reflection of a war be achieved for example by means of poeticity or visuality, or would it be advisable in such an undertaking to tendentially forego unambiguous words and images in favour of a more critical reflection of a war? If a text or a film was made in such a way as to seem to lack reference to reality, would it then make finding the truth redundant, since no reference points to factuality – the atrocities, for instance – could be found? Or would such a design of a text or a film allow conclusions about the problematic nature of any attempt at describing, at showing the complexity of evil?

A testimony documenting the plight of Iraqi civilians as observed over several months by the film’s director, chronicling the subjection of everyday life under the dual regime of helplessness. Part I shows the daily reality under the control of a dictatorship with the war looming in the background; the second part depicts the post-war chaos.

Childhood as an age of extraordinary imagination, games, and sense of security in a world bordered by the close horizon is explored in this observational documentary that focuses on a year in the life of a Norwegian Waldorf kindergarten. This sensitive study of the expressions of modern, progressive pedagogy can renew viewers’ faith in education and the importance of the work of educators.

This poetic documentary is an elegy to the Middle East, where cement flows across the region as they rebuild after the ravages of war. For the narrators, the smell and taste of cement remind them of their father, who left to work in neighboring countries, and the horrifying sight of their devastated home.

Through interviews and footage from theatre rehearsals, the film reflects on the origins of a theatre production by Croatian director Oliver Frljić about the murder of a twelve-year-old girl during the war in Yugoslavia.  What might seem like history is actually everyday reality for Croatian Serbs, filled with hatred and fear.

With the use of a casual cinematic language, French director Andy Guérif has breathed life into a grandiose polyptych by painter Duccio di Buoninsegna from Siena. Twenty-six simultaneously unfolding scenes from the Passion of Christ show the 14th century majestic work of art frame by frame from a previously unseen perspective.

For most of the media, the Gaza Strip is a source of apocalyptic images from the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Striplife is an extraodinary depiction of the everyday life of Gaza’s inhabitants prior to the latest escalation of violence. Gaza from sunrise to sundown, in captivating images – with no need for commentary.