A ghost ride through Finnish TV archives of the 1960s grazes the moon landing, American TV shows, a war in Africa. But how to connect with the world when dancing is forbidden?!
The anonymous narrator is a kind of web-adventurous flâneuse, neurotic and endlessly curious. A disturbance in the proprioception, which is the ability to sense the position, movement and location of the body and its parts, makes her perceive the world in a new way. Seemingly random anecdotes found on the internet and instructions from her cryptic physiotherapist start to come together in surprising ways. The found material forms a mosaic that reflects a world full of gazes, rules and technologies that separate us. Lines from the present and the distant past take our narrator to the 1960s, where medieval dance bans, televised wars, lost bones, space utopias and American TV stars collide. This film reflects how we can be and live in the world within ourselves and with each other. With those who are near and with those who are far. Along with all this, the film recommends dancing to everyone.
Aleph represents a unique point through which we can see all events in space and time – it depicts the spot from which one can see every event on this planet.
Aleph represents a unique point through which we can see all events in space and time. It depicts the spot from which one can see every event on this planet. The protagonist is entangled in a world of simultaneous events. Passing through Aleph's portals, he experiences humanity's sufferings. The accent is on continuous metamorphoses, as well as the atmosphere of anxiety complemented by noises from radio and TV sources, screams, growls... His character has constantly been changing, unable to find intense incorporation. Ultimately, the protagonist assumes the identity of Aleph.
The most profound memories are sometimes the most deceptive. That’s what Brett Allen Smith finds out as he keeps replaying the funeral of the family dogs. A baffling confrontation.
Recasting his newborn son and dog as himself and his childhood pets, a filmmaker confronts his own false memories through a collage of film, digital and video game footage.
A young woman breaks up an ugly plywood wardrobe that reminds her of an act of violence in her past. An artefact of pain is destroyed – a powerful gesture.
Attempting to purge a bad memory, Joana decides to return to the place where she suffered an act of violence in 2013 to free herself of the last trigger that binds her to this incident from the past – a wardrobe. In this self-portrait, the director appropriates the essayist traits of the documentary as a process to deal with inner ghosts. Through a ritual established by a recollection of facts, she confronts her own expectations facing the charges she endures as a woman.
The cutting down of a cherry tree becomes the starting point of an intimate dialogue about transgenerational trauma between a mother and a daughter. The line between the need for investigation and the desire for healing becomes blurry when a persistent camera depicts the felling of the tree. The short documentary is an attempt to find a shared language for the unspeakable consequences of child sexual abuse within my own family. Content warning: The film contains descriptions of experiences of sexual violence.
In a melancholy dialogue with her boyfriend and people she met by chance, the director tries to fathom the secret of love. A wistful and poetical journey to the Caspian Sea.
A filmmaker is searching for a place where she and her boyfriend first went on a date. On this little trip, she meets random people and asks them about love, memories, and the meaning of life. Meanwhile, the pollution of the Caspian Sea pulls her search for answers towards her inner questions about memories, feelings, and happiness.
An unpleasant examination by a meticulous doctor leads to a supposedly inevitable medical intervention that leaves the young patient scarred in body and soul.
She knew this day would come and the choice she'd have to make. But as it finally comes, Maya cannot wrap her head around it. A mole – it's so small, so insignificant, just a mark... How can it be so hard to part from it? Can Maya ever feel whole again when a bit of her is taken away?
I grew up in Yangon. In February 2021, my dreams came to an end. My mother said: “Son, wake up. The military has taken over the country”. The days got darker. The window in my narrow room and the piece of sky I watched seemed to be the only freedom I had left. I wanted to say something about this new undercurrent in my life. I wrote things down, recorded my voice, and searched for images that might reflect my feelings and those of other young people. And now there is a film which conveys what it's like to lose the ground beneath your feet.
People wonder about the disappearance of the moon. Meanwhile, a bull escapes from his herd and takes a poetic trip through the night – with a surprising finale.
A bull flees from his herd. The moon goes missing from the sky. The bull runs across this new moonless world, looking for its limit. Instead, he finds different people and their many endeavours, and in them, discovers their limitlessness. He learns of his own penchant for poetry and finds a way to transform his quest.
I recently saw someone that looked like you. I realised quickly that he was not you – but he moved like you. Ran his hands through his hair like you. And had the same backpack in the same shabby state. So I decided to follow your not-you for a while.
A consensual union becomes a brutal assimilation that ends in death and a new beginning. Powerfully moving colours and fascinating sounds transport irritating emotions.
In this film, two individuals with strong personalities are ultimately driven to ruin by selfish possessiveness. But in the end, their death, and their rebirth after corruption is just a part of this continuum called natural life, no matter whether their behaviours should be morally criticised or introspected by us.
The sun is setting in the jungle. The little monkey rocks from leaf to leaf. His dreams are wild and colourful … A filmic lullaby that definitely won’t make anyone fall asleep.
The sun sets and the eyes are closing. Rocking from one green leaf to the next, the little monkey glides gently to sleep. Suddenly, the world of dreams gets darker, more colourful and wild. Mysterious plants, creatures and shapes line the trajectory through the night.
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 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.