politics

Romanian senior Constantin Reliu has no documents, personal or pension rights. He worked in Turkey for 25 years. He was then deported from the country. On his return to his homeland, he finds that he was presumed dead. The system refuses to formally recognise that he is still alive but he still has the strength to fight the bureaucratic apparatus. With dry humour, documentary filmmaker Ilinca Calugareanu chronicles his lonely and harrowing quest to reclaim his lost identity. The story, reminiscent of the absurd starting point of Romanian New Wave films, is darker and more convoluted than it first appears, and the author becomes more and more involved in it. “A 63-year-old man declared dead in 2016 is invisible to the state.”

Freezing eggs today allows women to delay the ticking of the biological clock. In the Czech Republic, we already have almost fifty centres where these procedures are carried out. Moreover, after the pandemic wave, the number of women who have undergone this procedure has multiplied. It is therefore currently an unmissable demographic phenomenon that is making a significant contribution to population growth. In the long term, however, the statistics do not inspire much optimism.

The documentary follows in the footsteps of the controversial personality of František Kriegel, M.D., who was born into a Jewish family in Halych, saved lives as a frontline doctor in Spain, China, Burma and India, and after World War II joined the service of the Communist Party and the People's Militia. In 1968, he became one of the main representatives of our state and was the only member of the kidnapped delegation to save face and not officially condemn "fraternal aid," which had significant professional and social consequences for him.

One of the most prominent institutions of higher learning in Nigeria is the University of Ibadan, founded during the era of British colonial rule. It now has over 30,000 students. A handful of them meet every Thursday in one of the lecture halls to watch selected works by African filmmakers as part of a film club. The films, which deal with the ever-present problems of post-colonial countries, provoke heated discussions. Thanks to the nimble handheld camera, we become participants ourselves. During the protests against police brutality, the students' passion for political and social issues, sparked by the films they have seen, spills beyond the walls of the university building. “I would say that it’s an attempt to render visible the reality of Nigerian students. I wanted to depict the ordinary beauty and intelligence they display despite the challenges they face.” — Alain Kassanda Source: New Directors/New Films

The film was shot in a region of Turkey near the borders with Iraq and Syria, an area that is “a melting pot of those fleeing war zones, where people of different origins meet: Assyrians, Iraqis, Kurds, Arabs, Armenians and Turks”. And there are also a surprising number of children running around with analogue cameras. Their gaze, transmitted onto celluloid, transforms a space of unstable contours into a backdrop for great stories and poetic games. The titular darkroom is thus the place where everyone returns regularly to witness the miracle of an image emerging from developer solution as a result of the combined action of creativity and light. “Children roam the area, looking at the world through the viewfinders of analogue cameras, in an intimate vision of the medium as a form of play and a way to forge an alternate reality in a conflict zone.” Source: MoMA

Eight years ago, Shiv moved with his wife and young son from Nepal to Poland for a better life. Now in Warsaw, he makes a living by delivering food and by night as a taxi driver. At the same time, his teenage son goes to school and his wife sits at home unhappy. A time-lapse portrait of an immigrant family follows their seemingly ordinary life as well as interpersonal conflicts. Misunderstandings, old grievances and different values lead to the breakdown of family well-being and painful separation. The film sensitively portrays the problems faced by immigrants in Europe, and at the same time focuses attention on their individual life destinies, dreams and hopes. “You can’t drop out of school to become a YouTuber. It doesn’t work like that.”

Literally with the arrival of the first steam train, “excursionists” began to appear in the Poberouní region – weekend guests who built cottages here for recreation and began to pile new deposits onto the geological layers, this time in the form of memories captured by recording devices. The audiovisual dimension of one region's memory is the subject of this experimental documentary, assembled from found footage taken by its residents over the course of nearly a century. It is based on the memoirs of Gizela Šmidlíková, published in newspapers in the 1990s, and on various visual and ideological associations developed against a hypnotic musical backdrop. “Using a contemplative, observational 'non-documentary' approach, I processed the memory of a place, the depiction of local cultural life and the great importance of the railway to all of the Lower Poberouní region.”Source: Magdaléna Kašparová

A strong east wind brings snow, rain and also memories of her father. Only a few objects, newspaper clippings and diary entries make him present. But Maia would like to know him better, to piece together a complete portrait from the fragments. For this reason, she leaves Argentina, the land of her home, and travels to the West Bank, where her absent parent comes from. But at first she finds only more ruins, the remains of houses destroyed by the Israeli occupiers. As slowly as the calm sea ripples, the author's pilgrimage to her roots turns into an encounter with an entire nation that has been stripped of its home. The shared experience of loss helps her to fill the empty space in her heart. “When you had the accident, mom left eight blank pages in her diary. There is a gap from September 19 to September 27, 1986.”

The documentary First of May explores the more than a century-long evolution of the celebration and the meaning of this day. The structure is composed of memories, newspaper excerpts, testimonies found in archives, etc. - all these passages are brought to life by the actors' voices, taking on the roles of journalists, factory workers, policemen, workers and ordinary people who watch May Day, sometimes with interest and verve, sometimes with distance or irony.

Shoot the elephant and the problem is solved, says the invisible Prague City Council, which decides on financing culture. A bitterly satirical commentary on the disastrous state of the buildings of the National Gallery, Czech Television and Prague's monuments points out that we are all elephants with the roof of the menagerie falling in on our heads.

The enduring Czech people have survived many historic dates ending in eight, from the Přemyslids to the Soviets. In a filmed opinion poll, Miloš Kopecký has a Schweik-like conversation with a tailor's dummy and, with a head carved out of stone, he debates the significance of Alexander Dubček and the Prague Spring.

The view from the front seat to the back of the car makes up the majority of the shots in this minimalist documentary. The car oscillates back and forth between areas threatened by fighting in Ukraine and the Polish border. Its driver, the film's director, transports male and female war refugees to perceived safety. He drives through bombed-out towns, past destroyed military equipment and through checkpoint after checkpoint. The faces of his passengers sometimes show relaxation, sometimes exhaustion, but almost always a fear of things to come. Apart from the few necessities crammed into their suitcases, they carry with them traumas and fears for those they had to leave at home. “We never put people in a situation where they felt they needed to do something to get evacuated.” Source: Point of View Magazine

There is no functioning democratic society without NGOs. They operate where the state cannot reach. At the same time, trust in the non-profit sector is consistently low in our country - according to a recent survey, 60 percent of adults do not trust them. Using the stories of several non-profit organizations as a backdrop, the documentary explores the current attitude of Czechs towards donations and the paradox resulting from the constant distrust of the non-profit sector on the one hand and the growing generosity of Czechs on the other.

Elena Lacková (1921–2003) was a prominent Romani writer, playwright and social worker. Her great-granddaughter, Alžběta Ferencová alias Zea, is a singer, dancer and actress. The film draws parallels between two family-related women who, despite social prejudices, dedicate their lives to artistic creation. Through archival materials and the stories of witnesses, the difficult fate of Elena Lacková is revealed: from growing up in a Roma settlement, through the period of the Roma Holocaust, to her emancipatory work under communism. The poetic narrative reveals how the personal can take on political dimensions in our society.“Overall, I feel there is a lack of space in the area of the media for us Romani people to express ourselves. That is why we need to claim that space.”Quote from A2larm.

What impact do the Olympic Games have on their host cities? Athens, Tokyo, Beijing and Paris – cities that have changed the urban layout of entire neighbourhoods for the Olympics, transforming their appearance forever. Unused sports stadiums are falling into disrepair and grass is growing over them, while public attention is focused on the construction of new stadiums costing billions, displacing thousands of residents who have to make way for them. The director travels to Olympic host cities to explore this unsustainable cycle, which has a devastating effect on the city's economy, the environment, and the lives of ordinary people.“I think the ruins are alive, and in them the present, past and future all exist simultaneously.”The second projection will have English subtitles.

On 8 May 2019, the Yellow Vests rehabilitate Gustave Courbet’s tomb in Ornans. Not far away, Christian Corouge, a former member of the Medvedkine group, a militant film collective, makes the painter's work his own. But “we're not going to discuss painting, everyone takes what they want, I don't care!”

Originally a six-part television series, it offers a detailed insight into the political transformations of the last few decades in Brazil. The transformation of the regime, the introduction of the constitution, the development of human rights, but also the ever-swelling judiciary, whose high-ranking protagonists are paradoxically above the law. Without the use of typical talking heads, the narrative turns to archival footage, television reports, feature films and mood-art video clips to create a documentary collage. The film narrates historical events from a contemporary critical perspective and exposes the mechanisms behind the lawlessness in South American states. “They do not overthrow the powerful with weapons or battles, but with pens, sentences, and in coordination with the Public Ministry.” Source: Ponte Jornalismo

A historical documentary conceived as a discussion of history and method of production – this is one way to interpret the film about the Portuguese Colonial Exhibition, held in Porto in 1934. From archival print and video material, a pair of researchers piece together a picture of an event officially presented as a showcase of the southern European country's foreign achievements. However, with the hindsight of more than 70 years, the clearly racist dimension of the event stands out. The objectification of the gaze of the passing visitors on the titular Rosinha and other forcibly imported members of African ethnic groups finds a parallel in the operation of zoos, museums and similar institutions. “The titular Rosinha is a Guinean native who became the symbol of the first Portuguese Colonial Exhibition presented by the Estado Novo in 1934. A trip to the past to better understand the present.” Source: IndieLisboa International Film Festival

A taxi driver and his passenger drive through Cuban villages and talk about travel, heartbreak and human destiny. One speaks English, the other Spanish, yet they find mutual trust and understanding. The passenger, a Filipino filmmaker, tells the taxi driver the shocking reason why he is in Cuba and asks for cooperation in his search. A seemingly documentary prologue opens a journey into the last days of a former general of the Philippine dictator hiding on a banana plantation. The history of colonialism and political dictatorship emerges in the blazing Cuban sun in a film standing on the borderline between reality and fiction. “It is a thrillingly anticlimactic story of an overwhelming calm and a horror so absolute that it is confused with everyday life; it is immanent to it and is therefore definitive, omnipresent, absolute as the air.” — Antonio Enrique Gonzáles Rojas, Rialta Magazine Source: Rialta Magazine

1953 was a year of great sadness for Czechoslovak citizens. Obligatory mourning intervened in their lives after the deaths of Stalin and Gottwald. Their grief was sincere because of the currency reform, which ruined their lifelong savings. In retrospect, 1953 was the height of social despair.

Bohumil Modrý, the best hockey goalie in the world, who significantly contributed to the first international successes of Czechoslovak hockey after World War II. In 1948, he was offered a job in the NHL, but his stellar sports career and happy family life were destroyed by a trumped-up political trial in 1950. He died prematurely in 1963 at the age of 46 from the effects of imprisonment and radiation.

A reporter for a fictional television station, originally from Ukraine, travels around Slovakia and asks people at memorable places questions about the nature of fascism and the soul of the Slovak nation. The documentary essay seeks to capture the shape of a society on the fringes of the political spectrum through the words spoken and the images of crowd scenes. “According to the Centre for Research of Ethnicity and Culture, people in Slovakia generally have an aversion to extremist movements. But at the same time, 75 percent of them identify with several of their ideas."Source: Aktuality.sk

Set history free. A modern history, enclosed for more than a quarter of a century in an abandoned prison in Uherské Hradiště with unique rooms preserved from the 1950s. The authors fill the emptiness of the premises with situational encounters with the building, nature and people who are united by their experience of the place and who are often divided by their life experience. A shared past as a starting point to a shared future. "I used to go to the Hradiště prison as a boy in a playgroup, without any idea, while playing in the former prison yard, of what happened there two decades ago. I perceive the emptiness of the grounds here, closed since the 1990s, as a manifestation of the historical void within us. I then see the prison of history as an opportunity to open up the site and ourselves, to meet each other as the living and the dead, despite the fact that we come from different generational, ideological and social worlds." – Jan Gogola Jr.

The documentary mosaic consists of four stories from Slovak Roma settlements. The protagonists do not fit into either the majority society or their own community. This is because of their sexual orientation, religious beliefs or physical disabilities. However, a factual observation of their struggle for a dignified life shows that they are not bitter. On the contrary, they find strength and hope within themselves day after day to overcome common obstacles and step outside the boxes in which they have been situated by other people and by their background. In doing so, they ask no more of others than what they themselves have no problem with – the ability to understand and accept their fellow human beings in their otherness. “The film is dedicated to all those who are not indifferent to anyone's fate, who are looking for a path to connection, not division, who think more about others than themselves, who give more than they take, who do not judge, but try to understand each other.” – Juraj Baláž Source: The Film New Europe (FNE) Association

War journalism is indeed a special discipline in the world of journalism. Even elite journalists bow to the brave few who venture into conflict zones and bring quality reporting from extreme environments. And apparently even the biggest cynic perceives that their work is worthy of respect and admiration. Documentary filmmaker Petr Jančárek talks to a number of reporters, cameramen and photographers about how they see their profession.