Opus Bonum

An analytical look at Enver Hoxha’s Albanian dictatorship, through archival materials originally created as tools of state propaganda. The film traces four decades of the country’s development, from the end of World War II to the end of the communist regime, doing so without commentary, using only images and montage. This approach emphasizes that the archive is not a neutral witness to the past, but an active agent that not only records history, but also shapes it. The selection of images combines chronology with thematic blocks that show the monumentality of mass parades and political rituals, as well as more intimate moments of the dictator, such as his drives in a black Mercedes. These motifs take on a symbolic value, and suggest the loneliness and isolation of power. The film raises the question of how forms of propaganda have changed, and to what extent today’s media images follow historical patterns. The result is a work that transcends the framework of national history, and explores the function of the image in the political sphere, and its ability to create collective memory.“Sejko’s documentary demonstrates how the archive is not just a repository of images, but a tool for interpreting and rewriting history.” — Bianca FerrariSource: Bianca Ferrari: "Film di Stato": un viaggio nelle immagini della dittatura albanese di Enver Hoxha.

Christine’s father died when she was still a small child, and she remained in the care of her sadistic mother, who beat her and abused her psychologically. Christine is still convinced that her mother hid a farewell letter from her beloved father. Jean’s father committed suicide several years ago, and left behind a lengthy letter, but Jean never found the courage to read it. Together, Christine and Jean embark on a unique road trip across the French countryside to visit Christine’s mother, and try to confront the past. During their journey in the sunny atmosphere of summer days, with a mixture of humour and irony, they uncover deep family traumas from the seats of their convertible, and look for ways to understand them. They meet friends and random passers-by and, in authentic conversations, come up against the fact that pain caused by those closest to us is a universal human experience. Gradually, the question arises as to how much we are determined by what we have inherited from our parents. How can we overcome generational trauma, and ensure that we do not hurt our loved ones as we were hurt?“I think for a long time I thought she was intelligent, so there were things she could teach me about life. But actually, not at all, she had a shit life.” — Christine

The film captures the ambivalent nature of the Tyrolean landscape around the Bürglkopf mountain. The idyll of Alpine nature, grazing cattle, babbling brooks, and breathtaking panoramas is disrupted by the knowledge that there is a refugee centre at the top of the mountain. Unauthorized entry is prohibited, contact with people inside is undesirable, and cameras are completely denied access behind the walls. The strict regime that asylum seekers must adhere to guarantees them only one thing: a minimal chance of remaining in the safety of Austria. Despite the restrictions, however, the director finds a way to conduct interviews with the centre’s residents outside the premises, against the backdrop of deep forests in the foothills. Their authentic testimonies reveal not only their personal experiences and reasons for fleeing, but also the reality of everyday life in the facility itself. The complex picture is complemented by the testimonies of those who have passed through the centre and settled in Austria, as well as critical voices from locals expressing strong empathy. It turns out that even in the face of an inhumane bureaucratic apparatus, people can retain their dignity and hope. “You broke my heart when you said that the cow has a better life than us.”

Everything Works Out (In the End) tells the authentic story of a young woman who, out of economic necessity, decided to pay off her debts by working in the adult entertainment industry. What was meant to be a temporary solution ultimately becomes a defining chapter in her life. Sixteen years later, Katelyn seeks to change her life and reconnect with her faith; she begins working in a retirement home for aging Catholic priests and devotes herself to creative pursuits, like recording her first album, writing a book, and even taking up boxing. When, after a series of inexplicable disturbances, the Church declares her possessed by a demonic entity, Katelyn undergoes a series of exorcism sessions and a meditation on faith and redemption unfolds. Feeling the need to reconnect with her roots, she leaves Chicago and embarks on road trip across the United States towards her hometown in Massachusetts, during the last days before the 2024 presidential election. This intimate confession is intertwined with an analysis of America's political and cultural polarisation and explores how faith and creativity can shape a woman's extraordinary life experience.

This film, which straddles the line between fiction and documentary, is based on the director’s own book, and explores the tension between personal memory and imagination. The author returns to his childhood, when he shared everyday adventures with his friend Zeta, with whom he observed the surrounding world from the treetops, and created fictional stories about their neighbours. Years later, these memories intertwine with a reconstruction of the last hours of Zeta’s life, who tragically died as a member of a bus crew. The actor’s voice presents his thoughts and feelings during the journey, as imagined by the author of the film. They clash with the real testimonies and telephone conversations of passengers in the present, as they travel through the dry and mountainous Chilean landscape. Part of the film traverses the streets from the author’s memories via Google Street View, raising the question of digital memory, the capture of place and time, and the intertwining of reality with its virtual imprint. The work deals with the loss of a loved one, memory, and the ways in which film images and storytelling can capture transience.“I looked for your dad on Facebook. He told me you’d been hired as a stewardess for a bus company, and that you never came back.”

The Mirs are a Muslim community of musicians from the Thar Desert region in western Rajasthan, one of the most densely populated arid areas in the world. The landscape here consists of shifting dunes, short monsoons, and a constant struggle for water. For centuries, the Mirs have preserved poetry and music that have transcended religious and national boundaries and become a fundamental link in local identity. Today, however, this community lives in nameless settlements, identified only by numbers, such as 1PB. The film creates a portrait of local residents of all generations, offering a comprehensive look at their everyday lives and cultural and historical heritage. It shows the connection between the landscape and people, the culture and the environment that shapes it. But how are traditions preserved when the environment is transformed by environmental changes and industrial interventions? The soil is being degraded, the music is slowly fading away. Sensitively conducted interviews, authentic testimonies, samples of fascinating music, and the protagonists' sense of humour paint a picture of a community struggling to preserve its identity. “I didn’t make peace with my dear beloved, I wasted my life, found no meaning.”

Director Diana Fabiánová's documentary offers an exceptionally intimate look at the topic of open relationships. The film does not reflect much on the social debate surrounding this issue, but instead replaces it with a personal story that shows what unexpected factors can come into play in such a marital agreement. The filmmaker turned the camera directly on herself and her family and documented how she and her partner are managing to live in a partnership with shifted “boundaries of fidelity.” She and her husband film many situations with a handheld camera, which allows us to get to the heart of their several years of experimentation with other sexual partners. The film, which is accompanied by the director's monologue and primarily follows her perspective, ultimately deals with the question of honesty in marriage, but also with identity, inherited patterns of behaviour, and the meaning of the nuclear family as such. In connection with the film and its title, Fabiánová also talks about the topic of setting and breaking boundaries between romantic partners. “The definition of infidelity depends on what the couple agrees constitutes infidelity for them.” — Diana Fabiánová Source: Forbes

Set during the pandemic and the years that followed, the story follows two protagonists who decide to transform their street into the first community powered exclusively by solar energy. From their home in London's Walthamstow neighbourhood, they develop an idea that combines artistic practice, activism, and everyday life. The project is based on the belief that even small collectives can influence the shape of our world through direct action and concrete deeds. Initially, the aim is to convince neighbours that a shared energy system is a realistic solution to rising prices and dependence on corporations. In times of economic uncertainty, the initiative becomes a symbol of hope and solidarity for an entire neighbourhood that can barely afford to heat its homes. At the same time, the creators continue their tradition of protest art—during the harshest winter in Britain, they spend almost a month on the roof of a house to raise funds and media attention for the campaign. The narrative combines lightness and humour with a deeper message about the power of community, empathy, and imagination to transform a local dream into a universal call for change.“We are trying – through the story telling of one street, all of the different characters and history of this one place – to show, actually we can have the power to make change.” — Hilary PowellSource: BBC News.

An unvarnished look at life in Bolivia's highest silver mine, located in the middle of a desolate landscape. Miners live here with their families, and their entire lives are tied to working in the mine and searching for silver veins in endless masses of gray rock. The work is physically exhausting, destroys their health, and at the same time brings constant psychological pressure—death can come at any time. Children learn at school how to defend themselves against thieves who steal silver at night, murder, and rape, and whose victims include small children. In such a reality, almost anything can be a source of support, including unwavering spirituality. The film is also told through the eyes of a twelve-year-old boy who, in addition to attending school, is already learning the ropes in the mine: his small hands grip the tools as he realizes that a different fate is unlikely to await him. Playing with chickens or sledding on gravel become his only joys. Visually stunning shots of the lunar landscape contrast with the gravity of its inhabitants' existence. The film speaks of colonialism as the foundation of European wealth and criticizes its devastating impact on the generations whose labour paid for that prosperity.“Silence! Here rest the men who left their lungs in the mines.”

Young Diego suffers from constant fatigue, which gradually cripples him and robs him of any desire to do anything. He is unemployed, unmotivated, and his days dissolve into immobility. His mother tries to get him to do any kind of household chores to help him find meaning again or simply get him out of bed. Diego seeks help from doctors, motivational speakers, and tarot readings, but every attempt at recovery is met with a deeper sense of emptiness. The only person he communicates with is his friend Liz—her insomnia and zest for life are the opposite of his constant sleep. Liz is trying to complete her art project, but she lacks the dreams that would inspire her. A quiet alliance develops between them, in which exhaustion clashes with excess energy, inactivity with creative movement. Their conversations about memory and everyday life gradually transform into a contemplative study of lost vitality. With its meditative rhythm and poetic imagery, the film explores the state of a generation oscillating between paralysis and excess. “When you breath in, you feel like you’re being filled with new energy.” — relaxation tape in the film

After decades in exile, Asllan returns with his daughter to his native village in Kosovo to work with local residents to revive the world of his childhood, which was destroyed by war. Through staged memories, interviews with eyewitnesses and intensive collaboration with the community, he attempts to uncover the truth about the past and understand how it shaped the present. The process of reconstructing memories reveals the tension between an idealised past and a reality marked by loss, trauma and uprooting. The donkey present in the story serves as a metaphor for patience, continuity and memory, but at the same time it is a very real, symptomatic animal for village life and the daily rhythm of the community. The intimate dialogue between father and daughter transforms into a broader reflection on collective memory, identity and man's relationship to home, with the film showing the power of community in the shared search for meaning and understanding. The work combines elements of documentary reconstruction, performative gesture and poetic realism, creating a multi-layered statement about the relationship between the past and the present. “Everything was so present and intense. All of us were vivacious.”

Set against the poetic backdrop of the Himalayas, a dialogue unfolds between two female travellers separated by a century – a Chinese filmmaker and Alexandra David-Néel, a French explorer, writer and Buddhist scholar who became famous in the early 20th century for her research into Tibetan culture and religion. David-Néel, known for her daring journey to Lhasa in 1924, travelled on foot and by mule, often in disguise and in extreme conditions, to penetrate areas closed to foreigners. The film draws on her letters home, excerpts of which serve as inspirational material and internal commentary on the current journey of the Chinese author, who explores the same landscape from today's perspective. She meets local residents, monks and shepherds, whose views and stories co-create a parallel narrative about the transformation of place and people. The film moves between travelogue, diary and meditation – in a visually lyrical form, it combines documentary observation with introspection and, through personal experience, opens up universal questions of faith, identity and time. “I am my parents, my ancestors, my teachers, the books I have read, the foods I have eaten, the air I have breathed, the people I have haunted, the environments where I have lived.” — from the letters of Alexandra David-Néel

An investigation into the functioning of fake news in pre-election Bulgaria reveals the people behind its creation and dissemination, while also highlighting those who are trying to remove it from public discourse. The documentary follows two opposing protagonists. An experienced investigative journalist, with twenty years of experience, whose life has been repeatedly threatened, and whose car has been set on fire twice, has long been highlighting the dangers of disinformation to the Bulgarian public. In contrast to her efforts is a young man entering politics to fight against “gender ideology,” immigrants, vaccinations, and Western influences, who actively buys Russian trolls, and spreads propaganda through social networks. The documentary depicts the absurdity of some of the messages and strategies, but also their concrete impact on election results and the lives of ordinary people. At the same time, it points to the power of far-right internet lobbies and the mechanisms by which they penetrate everyday life. The film explores the contradictions between legal norms and moral values, forcing the audience to confront situations where something is legally permissible, but ethically questionable. “The car of Genka Shikerova, a journalist known for her incisive interviews of Bulgarian politicians, was set on fire outside her Sofia home on the night of 16th September, reviving concern about freedom of information and the safety of journalists in Bulgaria.” — Reporters without Border Source: Interview with Genka Shikerova on media freedom in Bulgaria.

The film explores online sex work on the OnlyFans platform through the stories of three real creators. We follow the process of content creation, conversations with subscribers, and the everyday dynamics of their partner and work relationships. OnlyFans is viewed here as just another form of work in late capitalism, where the boundaries between private and public de facto cease to exist. The platform becomes a place of economic and emotional exchange, where creators often provide the illusion of relationship and care, while at the same time seeking confirmation of their own value. It shows how strong the impact of the digital world is on family ties and mental health. The film also focuses on the creators’ partners, who are faced with the fact that their partners not only expose their bodies, but also form pseudo-romantic relationships with fans. The popularity of OnlyFans is interpreted as a manifestation of the current crisis of male loneliness, where the need for love and care enters into a transactional framework.“I serve as their therapist, I’m just naked doing so.”

While the Green Grass Grows: A Diary in Seven Parts will be screened over two days — the first half of the film on 29.10. and the second half on 30.10. We kindly ask to book tickets for both screenings. The total runtime of the film is 7 hours.The author’s film diary is a personal, profound meditation on human existence, time, and the places we inhabit. Set in the American wilderness, from canyons and deserts, to forests and caves, it reveals universal experiences of life and death through the individual fates of its characters. It observes how the human mind structures stories and perceives the passage of time: microseconds unfold into entire scenes, months pass in seconds. This visual odyssey alternates between spectacular landscape images and intimate details of everyday life, blurring the boundaries between nature and civilization, and showing humans as their intersection. Through the intimate testimonies of the protagonists, the viewer gradually penetrates their lives, and reveals their interconnectedness. Layers of meaning are revealed through the juxtaposition of different shots, from plains to urban scenes, to the interior of the director’s mother’s living room, whose departure is one of the film’s central motifs. Watching the film is an almost psychedelic experience that offers a profound philosophical view of existence, death, and the value of the present moment.“It’s a thinking person’s film, and each chapter meanders down its own rabbit hole.” — Pat MullenSource: POV: Canada’s Documentary Magazine.

While the Green Grass Grows: A Diary in Seven Parts will be screened over two days — the first half of the film on 29.10. and the second half on 30.10. We kindly ask to book tickets for both screenings. The total runtime of the film is 7 hours.The author’s film diary is a personal, profound meditation on human existence, time, and the places we inhabit. Set in the American wilderness, from canyons and deserts, to forests and caves, it reveals universal experiences of life and death through the individual fates of its characters. It observes how the human mind structures stories and perceives the passage of time: microseconds unfold into entire scenes, months pass in seconds. This visual odyssey alternates between spectacular landscape images and intimate details of everyday life, blurring the boundaries between nature and civilization, and showing humans as their intersection. Through the intimate testimonies of the protagonists, the viewer gradually penetrates their lives, and reveals their interconnectedness. Layers of meaning are revealed through the juxtaposition of different shots, from plains to urban scenes, to the interior of the director’s mother’s living room, whose departure is one of the film’s central motifs. Watching the film is an almost psychedelic experience that offers a profound philosophical view of existence, death, and the value of the present moment.“It’s a thinking person’s film, and each chapter meanders down its own rabbit hole.” — Pat MullenSource: POV: Canada’s Documentary Magazine.