If you thought the war in Ukraine was a hoax, how far would you go to see the truth?

It began with a public casting call: “Do you think the war in Ukraine is a hoax? Is the media lying about the number of casualties and the consequences of the special military operation in Ukraine? Come to a casting and become a hero in a new film.”

In October 2024, a film crew set out to the heart of the war zone with three ordinary Putin supporters so they could witness the war in Ukraine with their own eyes. How do sceptics react when rockets fly overhead? When they hide in shelters or walk among mass graves? When they talk to children in underground metro schools, or wounded soldiers, and grieving families? Pull back the curtain of lies, fake news and propaganda and embark on a road trip with them as they take a journey to truth through a war zone.

Did we change their minds?

In today’s global world, to glow means many things: to rise above, to be desired, to be seen, to belong. It might mean finding love, climbing the social ladder, going viral, or simply having skin a few shades lighter.

Set across New Delhi, Nairobi, and Seoul, Glowing follows four protagonists from vastly different cultural and socio-economic backgrounds, all united by a single aspiration – to glow. Through skin-lightening products, they put on a mask of a better self, while beneath the surface, deeper questions of identity, belonging, and worth remain unresolved.

What does it truly mean to glow? And what parts of ourselves must we hide in the process?

Bulgarian queer artist Ivo Dimchev captivates audiences worldwide with his electrifying art shows, which blend singing and songwriting, theatre, dance, and visual art.

Despite being HIV-positive, Ivo responded to the COVID-19 lockdowns by performing a series of no less than 400 free, intimate concerts in people’s homes. But for an artist who challenges societal norms surrounding sexuality, identity, and power, Bulgaria is too small, homophobic, and conservative. Ivo leaves in search of artistic fulfilment in New York, where his raw physicality takes even experimental-theatre audiences out of their comfort zones.

In a world that resists his radical individuality, facing isolation, and paying the emotional cost of artistic freedom, Ivo transforms personal vulnerability and collective hardship into impactful art and activism, in a celebration of authentic and uncompromising self-expression.

For more than a decade, Artūras Morozovas has been photographing people in vulnerable situations – people affected by the war in Ukraine, as well as people experiencing social isolation in Lithuania.

In the film, we meet Rita, a mother of three children who lost her husband to suicide and has a disability; Danutė, who lives alone in the forests; soldiers Lisa and Jaška, brutally murdered by the Russians, as well as Ivan, whose home was recently destroyed by a bomb. Despite Artūras's desire to remain impartial and objective, a close bond forms between the photographer and his characters, so the film is about the miracle of human connection and hope.

In 1937, 22-year-old Czech composer Vítězslava Kaprálová arrived in France to study at the École Normale de Musique de Paris. A few years later, she died at 25, leaving behind a striking legacy of compositions and writings that captured the spirit and struggles of her time.

This film retraces Kaprálová’s journey through the letters filled with wonder, ambition, fear, and frustration – as she faced exile, the outbreak of World War II, love affairs, artistic ambition, and the constraints placed on her as a woman.

Today, students at the École Normale, where Kaprálová once studied, discover her music. Among them is Bianca Maretti, a Brazilian conductor and recent graduate, now entering the professional world of classical music. The film features acclaimed musicians including tenor Adam Plachetka, cellist Steven Isserlis, and conductor Alena Hron, alongside professional and amateur orchestras and soloists.

Unfolding as a dialogue across generations – between teacher and student, past and present, music and memory – it is more than a portrait of a partly forgotten composer. It is a reflection on legacy, identity, and the barriers women still face in classical music, and an invitation to listen to the vision and music of an inspiring artist whose life was cut short.

A journalist uncovering corruption in a post-Soviet nation like Kyrgyzstan is facing high stakes. What toll does the fight for free media and free speech take on personal lives?

Director Samara Sagynbaeva has been following how her husband, Ali Toktakunov, one of Kyrgyzstan’s most prominent investigative journalists, boldly confronts the entrenched corruption within the ruling elite. The couple finds themselves navigating a precarious landscape where their privacy and safety are under constant threat.

Panic Button situates Kyrgyzstan’s plight within a broader context, reflecting the global erosion of media independence. It highlights parallels with attacks on free press elsewhere and explores the profound cost of pursuing truth and transparency, examining the fragile balance between public good and personal sacrifice. Through intimate storytelling it raises critical questions about freedom, accountability and the essential role of independent journalism – and the sacrifices made by those who dare to speak out.