The rules in rural Poland are clear: Every man must have a woman; every dancer must have a female dancer. The pubescent Miłosz feels safe here, especially after his mother’s death. His sister Agnieszka, who is in a long-distance relationship with her friend Majka, does everything to obtain custody of her little brother. Gradually, a new family model is revealed, documented by Marek Kozakiewicz as an attempt that is as restrained as it is determined.

The windmills behind the houses rotate steadily, standing in place, signalling stability. But the lives of Miłosz and his 35-year-old sister are in turmoil. They are facing a red-tape marathon to make Agnieska his legal guardian: Both have been orphans for a few months. Director Marek Kozakiewicz depicts the establishment of a new family no one expects much applause for in conservative Poland. Because for Agnieszka and her partner, who is ten years older, the determination to try living together manifests tentatively. Without kisses, without celebrations, the decision almost casually becomes reality – the women are exploring the boundary between platonic tenderness and enforced secrecy. And Miłosz, too, seems to realise only slowly what the relationship between Majka and Agnieszka really is.

Two sisters travel to the realm of clouds on a paper plane. They are looking for the big tree with the golden leaf. Their plane has to be mended again and again, and the big sister is worried. When she falls ill, the little sister takes control. Slowly they get closer to each other and their goal on this arduous journey.

Born blind, the hero of this film turns seven before he begins to see images from the past that soon follow him like a curse. Like the stars in the night sky, what he sees has often long since passed away and gone out. In this tragic masterpiece by the directing duo Kijek/Adamski, the almost tangible pastel-coloured cut-out technique of the present-day narrative contrasts with delicate black and white 2D animations that represent the shadows of what is lost.

The daily routine in the life of a young couple: getting up, squeezing blackheads, eating soup, daydreaming … Zbigniew Rybczyński reworks real-life images to create surreal collages in order to visually turn the inside out. He is supported by the Polish composer Eugeniusz Rudnik, whose great electro-acoustic inventiveness shifts playfully back and forth between naturalism and alienation.

The inhabitants of a village witness an unusual event. The religious figures that surround them come alive and leave their accustomed places. The statues step down from shrines and niches, from altars and pedestals. They turn their backs on the village. Nobody knows where they are heading and why they are departing.

Most of the people are frozen in religious adoration, but some of them overpower a statue of the Virgin Mary and smash it on the ground. The fragments of the broken statue, however, live on, and are still heading away. A young girl – born boneless and unable to move without help – manages to make contact with one of the departing statues.