The actor Hiam Abbass, who lives in France, is one of the greatest movie stars from the Middle East. She played leading roles in the award-winning films of Israeli director Eran Riklis, acted in Steven Spielberg’s “Munich” and recently in the U.S. hit series “Succession.” She served on the juries of the big Festivals in Cannes and Berlin, presented her own directing debut in Venice. But she is also a mother, daughter and sister in a large Palestinian family full of resourceful women. In this real role she steps in front of the camera in her daughter Lina Soualem’s work and travels back to her hometown of Deir Hanna in northern Israel – an Arab village in the Jewish state.

“Don’t open the gate to past sorrows,” the director quotes a kind of family dogma. It refers, among other things, to the family’s traumatic expulsion from Tiberias, the city on the Sea of Galilee, in the 1948 Palestine War. But with her confrontation of the family history, Soualem also opens gates to past joys and allegedly discarded identities. Between home videos, historical archive footage, photos and letters, Abbass is a touching and approachable screen presence as she returns to her roots. The long shadow of her origins also falls on a woman of the world.

On the outskirts of the city, the new modern buildings are silent and the motorway bridge drones. Birds are circling in the sky, a young man, concealed by his hoodie, is riding his e-scooter along a park path. The only irritating element is the rifle over his shoulder.

Anton Cla’s film depicts a mood of high alert, while the disaster has in fact already happened. Unexplainable scenes that could not be more disconcerting and grow increasingly drastic unfold calmly. The screaming silence is decisively enhanced by the imperceptibly accumulating mixed drone of the daily sounds of a mechanised world: motorway, tramway, clicking indicators, pulsating emergency signals. What the soundscape adamantly refuses to deliver is a loud discharge that would release the tension. The suburban landscape is steeped in a red theatrical warning light, blurs restrict the view. The 3D computer design masks neither the artificiality nor the computer-based deformations of the images of a normality that has become a combat zone – the machine matrix seems to rule already.

Femicides are daily in Mexico. We follow Maremoto in her fight against sexism, fear and anxiety. She is an illustrator and visual creator, but first and foremost a sensible artist. This VR experience is inspired by her art, her search for identity, her self-empowerment, her way of making herself and others aware of their own bodies and of finding allies in the struggle for change.

She and him, naked on the holiday seas in the bright sun. It may sound idyllic, but it is hell for Aurora and Jeremy. In search of funny dolphins, the two are paddling without orientation in the limitless expanse of water, no land in sight. Complete with dangers from above and below in the shape of heat and sharks. And at the centre of events is a near-defunct relationship. The roles are well-practised and grating, uptight lust is satisfied only solo.

Instead of roaring waves, it is above all the relentless silence of the sea surrounding them that provides the tension of the film. It is occasionally released in brilliant miniatures, for example a witty argument, or clumsy physical comedy. Another time, we are shocked by action-filled horror moments triggering absurd chain reactions. Whether it is the glaring light on the brutally calm water and the clueless couple, the visual fumes of decay one can almost smell, or a super dynamic dive – Levi Stoops’ direction is magnificent and timed with utmost precision.

The gaze is firmly fixed on the horizon and distant tree lines, distinguishing natural from smoke clouds. Seasonal work for Portuguese women who observe the landscape from behind the glass panes of fire lookout towers, radio always in reach to report wildfires immediately upon discovery. While the boundary of the visible blurs in the grain of the analogue film stock, Dina, Adriana, Ana Paula, Helena, Luisa, Cristina, Dulce, Lídia, Inês, Fátima, Francisca and Vera emerge as agents of anticipation, modern-day seers whose gentle but persistent peering reaches beyond the burning world. Meanwhile, their male colleagues monitor the situation on computer screens. Poetical textures of waiting and wokeness. The female vision is sharpened and has expectations from the not yet visible future.

So many stones are lying around. They used to belong to something whole that was broken. A red-haired boy sets about sorting, joining and stacking them. Little by little, the countless chunks turn into many impressive towers. We follow the boy’s path as he makes one tower after the other shine again.

Leonie’s greatest dream is to become a pig-farmer. She spends a lot of time with her cat Skeet on her parents’ farm and helps where she can: taking care of the piglets or loading the pigs onto the truck to the slaughterhouse. But new laws make her parents give up the farm. The last pigs disappear and Leonie must say goodbye to her dream.

How do you grow up on a planet that is being destroyed by humanity? This film looks for answers to this urgent question and introduces us to Bo and Luca. The close friends are enthusiastic climate activists, connected by their commitment. We follow the two teenagers for four years on their contradictory and surprising path to adulthood.

Pippa and Victoria’s favourite pastime is skating. But there are new frustrating “NO SKATING” signs cropping up everywhere in the city. The two refuse to let this get them down and forge a plan to take back the city. They want to organise a street contest to find more allies – and to finally skate again!

Learning a foreign language is like creating another self. How can you speak it without losing your own sound, without dissolving completely in it – and still be heard and noticed? This film is a charming and intellectually fastidious attempt to navigate the complexities of language, identity and trauma.

To do this, the filmmaker resorts to her own biography. Because Russia invaded Ukraine when Daryna Mamaisur, who comes from Kyiv, was in Portugal for a Doc Nomads graduate course. Home and the search for it became the defining factors of this work, as well as the traumatic situation of only being able to “witness” the difficult situation from a distance. She, the Ukrainian in Portugal, learns Portuguese. She lets the new words for “war,” “explosion” and “attack” roll off her tongue. She compares them with the soft, intimate sound of her native language, with the sound of Kyiv. Friends send audio and visual recordings from Ukraine which, combined with animations, become a multilayered essay and finally a testimony – for the resilience of language and culture, no matter where they are spoken and lived, and not least for the power of the artistic documentary, which can make speech and sound possible.

“See you next year!” a Portuguese fire warden says as he dismantles his control equipment at the end of the season. Humans and nature in southern Europe may be used to forest fires, but that does not change the facts: The ever more massive conflagrations are caused by climate change. We have long been living in the age of fire.

In the Portuguese interior, a forest fire has just devastated a large area. Wounded nature is silent, not a single bird is heard, only the wind that makes the charred tree trunks rustle. But the vegetation recovers astonishingly fast. Where all life seemed to be gone, greenery soon sprouts from the ruined trees. The residents of the affected region are engaged in the reconstruction with great respect for their natural environment. Because plants, too, are sentient creatures. In quiet, almost melancholic, but also hopeful images, the film pays tribute to the strength of the trees and illustrates how essential it would be for humanity to learn to live in harmony with nature again.

The multicoloured, turbulent journey of a huge crate never seems to end. Whatever could it contain? An elephant, a lion, a bear? First it’s loaded onto a plane, then a ship. Then it goes up the mountains in a train, and over hill and dale on a bus. The crate keeps getting smaller and smaller and everyone has their own idea of what may be hidden inside. But mum’s the word!