Lockdown, easing, lockdown: Vienna in the Covid-19 pandemic from March 2020 to December 2021. Generous tableaus document paralysis, fear, learning, anger – and incipient repression.
The Standstill shows Vienna and its surroundings along with encounters with people during and after the Covid-19 crisis. The film tells of the immediate and the long-term effects, which can only be evaluated and classified in the future.
A religious statue comes alive and unites with a boneless girl. They leave the village together with many other figures that have stepped down from the altars.
One day, all the statues in the area come to life. They leave the roadside shrines and pedestals and calmly set off straight ahead, all in the same direction. They do not even stop for a moment. People watch the phenomenon with growing anxiety. None of them knows where they are going and why. Only a little girl with a boneless body marvels at the procession of the unusual figures with pure fascination. They walk without muscles, although they should not be able to walk. How strange!
The film is a recording of the fascinating and tumultuous journey reported from off-screen by the Polish jazz vocalist Urszula Dudziak, who was a remarkable story teller.
“This is the cradle of our beloved music. We need to verify our skills there”, said Michał Urbaniak to Polish jazz vocalist Urszula Dudziak to convince her to go and conquer the US with him. The film is a recording of the fascinating and tumultuous journey reported from off-screen by the artist herself, who was a remarkable story teller. The materials used include archival footage from the 1960s communist Poland, New York of the 1970s and the 1980s as well as the music itself. Listening to scat singing, we discover Dudziak as a woman, immigrant and, above all, an extraordinary artist working with the greatest jazz musicians.
Vienna Calling delves into Vienna's music culture, far from mainstream. It's a unique blend of documentary and theatre, offering an eccentric panopticon.
In Vienna, Europe's faded music capital, an underground scene thrives, marked by the city's wryness and sombre romanticism. The camera explores Vienna's streets, bars, and dark corners, unearthing the music and charm of local artists hidden beneath the city's polished exterior. The film weaves musical performances into an eccentric mosaic, far from the mainstream. It transforms into a docu-musical showing the diverse face of the new Vienna. A poetic glimpse into a historic metropolis infusing tradition with a new spirit.
DJ Vika is 84 and a star of Warsaw’s nightclubs. She refuses to grow old and sit at home. Instead, she wants to celebrate life, enjoy herself and music.
84-year-old Vika is a star of the Warsaw clubbing scene. A charismatic DJ and a colourful bird she surrounds herself with young people, repeating that age is just a number. But when her health suddenly begins to deteriorate, Vika can no longer deny the passing of time. Will she find meaning in sharing the joy of life with other seniors by encouraging them to live their lives to the fullest?
Vika! is a bittersweet portrait of a woman who intends to celebrate life to the very end, a true inspiration for both the silver generation and our future selves.
Surrealist observations at the Italian Adriatic, where seasonal workers toil for the holidaymakers. An unvarnished look behind the façade of the “carefree” beach holiday.
Vista Mare is a poetic and surrealist documentary revealing the hidden labour behind “a holiday in the sun” in Italy's Northern Adriatic coastal resorts. Shot over an entire working season (February to October), it takes viewers on a journey through an artificial landscape built to amuse vacationers. Vista Mare's camera purposefully watches a multi-national army of seasonal labourers toiling from dawn to dusk. Workers test remote-controlled umbrellas, meticulously prepare meals, and most importantly, jolly the patrons into having a good time. Meanwhile, on the shoreline, thousands of guests paddle in the waves and enjoy carefully scheduled fun. Little wonder the demands of their jobs drive the workers to chant “Slaves? Never!” in a protest carefully overseen by the police. In an absurdist loop, Vista Mare watches the workers, who watch other workers play, until the sky turns cloudy, the beaches empty, and the last umbrella closes.
Weightless tells the story of Max' self-realisation in an environment not yet ready for it. What feels like an intimate conversation, reveals a lot about our society.
The essayistic documentary Weightless circles around the topics of identity, mental struggle and self-realisation. It does so through an intimate conversation with the protagonist, Max, about his rather complicated growing up. But Max himself is never shown in the images, which creates a special audio-visual language and unique dynamics of the spoken. The images of significant places charge the spoken with wider meaning and ambivalence.
A tale about the loves and dreams of Reema, a transgender woman in Pakistan.
The film starts in the cinema – the only place where a man can see women on screen. But in sharp contrast to Lollywood is the world in which Reema can subsist as a transgender woman in Pakistan – the Well of Death. A carnival sideshow, where motorcyclists perform stunts and Reema dances to attract consumers. It's the life of a nomad, each town and each show revealing the beauties and complexities of Pakistani society. Reema is convinced to have found the love of her life, Asif. They work together and support each other. It's a utopia that is shattered when Reema suddenly loses Asif. Heartbroken, Reema travels back to her “Guru”, who runs the transgender safe house where she grew up...
In Jirkuff's animation, based on a story by Ilse Aichinger (1921–2016), the parts of a house develop a life of their own. Along with the handrail and the wallpaper, even the white drawing surfaces are affected: Jirkuff's charcoal strokes and the coal dust from Aichinger's text colour them grey (after all, coal is stored in the cellar where the narrating voice ultimately ends up). Here, as previously in Vermessung der Distanz (2019), Susi Jirkuff's interest is not only in the spatiality of the building but also in the (non-) behaviour of fellow humans. No one asks: “Didn't you live next door to us just yesterday?”
The story appeared in 1955 in Stillere Heimat, the literary yearbook of the city of Linz. Aichinger had survived the era of national socialist terror in an apartment near the Vienna Gestapo headquarters. The yearned end of the war did not promise liberation – the same people were sitting in the offices; they talked the same and acted the same. The housing office told the severely depleted family whose close family members had been murdered, a sister and an aunt able to flee to England: “Sleep in hammocks.” Who really cared about such matters back then? And who's really concerned about the living situation of endangered people nowadays? (Andreas Dittrich)
A Polish fishing village in deceptive winter silence … This expressively designed everyday mosaic of a village community talks of Anka, Jesus, warmth of heart and coldness of feeling.
It grows slowly as an icicle, but one day, it drops and crashes. Anka loves cats. And Jesus. In a winter silence, the lagoon freezes and the unspoken resurfaces like a crack in the ice. A mosaic portrait of a small fisherman's village where human to human, human to animal, animal to animal interdepend on a delicate balance of warm tender care and cold emotional cruelty. An eerie story of loneliness and community narrated with magical realism.
DOK Industry is realised with the support of Creative Europe MEDIA Programme of the European Union, the Mitteldeutsche Medienförderung (MDM) and the Federal Government Commissioner for Culture and the Media upon a Decision of the German Bundestag.