For many years, Amin was unable to speak about the experience of his flight. It is only now that he finds the courage to open up to his schoolmate, filmmaker Jonas Poher Rasmussen. From earliest childhood Amin’s life was marked by political unrest in his native country of Afghanistan and soon by growing up without a permanent home. His painful memories are visualized in haunting animations, interwoven with documentary footage.

It’s a well-known fact that flight does not lead from point A to point B and then simply ends. Amin’s story, though, shows how rocky and tortuous it can really be, leading from Afghanistan via Russia, Estonia and a few other stations to Denmark. Only when his life is on a safe track with an upcoming wedding and a good career does he find the strength to talk about what he had to go through to be where he is today. In an almost psychoanalytical setting, the protagonist – lying down – talks about his past. The narrative moves in a spiral between then and now, allowing for frequent respites between the traumatic impressions that the poignant animation makes almost physically tangible. It’s no coincidence that “Flee” has already won multiple awards and is considered an “instant classic” even now.

Gabi, eight years old, isn’t interested in “girl stuff”, but in Lego and football. Many months later, little has changed about this. Nevertheless, Gabi, now in cap and shorts, stands out more. The onset of puberty stirs up fears, raises new questions. Once again Gabi sits at the hairdresser’s and her hair gets a little shorter. The “hairstyle” problem comes up regularly, for her mother would like her daughter to look a little more feminine from time to time. No such luck. Gabi is convinced that there is no difference between boys and girls, apart from a few hormones. Sensitively, Engeli Broberg observes this young person over a period of five years as they try to stay true to themselves.

The Nepalese shaman Lil Bahadur and his granddaughter Hima have dedicated themselves to the revival of his native language, Kusunda. It’s about more than communication, namely identity, tradition and awareness of one’s own history. The interactive voice-control of this VR experience allows us to learn Kusunda ourselves. We learners become human archives of an all but lost indigenous language.

Nine-year-old Abuk and 15-year-old Machiek have survived an ordeal. Like many Southern Sudanese children, they were robbed and enslaved by militias. In 2003, after their liberation, they visited Sweden to talk about their experiences. The authentic sound recording expands into animated space and supplies the voiceover for images of fear and memories in children’s colours.

In the Swedish town of Gullspång, Kari and May meet a woman who looks exactly like their sister Lita who died more than 30 years ago. No coincidence: Olaug was born on the same day as Lita in the rural north of Norway; a DNA test confirms that the two were born as twin sisters. The happy reunion with Kari, May and the rest of the family, though, soon shows the first cracks. At the age of 80, Olaug’s identity is shattered. Why did her parents give her away? Will she fit in with her new, deeply religious kin? She does not believe in divine revelations. Instead, she is haunted by Lita’s alleged suicide – and indeed her investigative research raises questions about the circumstances of that death.

At least at one point in the film, director Maria Fredriksson is audibly dumbfounded behind the camera. What starts as a feel-good film becomes a character study of identity, then a kind of true-crime and finally a mystery story. The direction takes it up a notch, sometimes to dramatic, sometimes to quite funny effect: The perfectly lighted country houses with portrait photos on the walls and the ironically suggestive use of music are reminiscent of “Twin Peaks.” Sometimes life writes the crazier plot twists.

Boys who from earliest childhood have sung in a choir have now entered puberty. They have to wait in the “Voice Break Choir” until their voices can be relied on again – in order to continue singing with the men. In interviews and impromptu songs, they describe personal changes and searches for identity. A film about the threshold between being a boy and becoming a man.