A playful short portrait of the headstrong Croatian sculptor and feminist Marija Ujević Galetović and her sensual sculptures.

The Ukraine painted with a wicked and therefore perhaps honest pen: deluded patriots, dumb adolescents and plastic bags that suddenly stick to everyone’s heads.

Sheep in front of barbed wire, cared for by a young man who is serving a long sentence in a Northern Irish prison for violent crimes. A look into a touching and poetic world in-between.

A dusty plain, as smooth as a sheet of paper, with a horse and rider on it, as fast as an arrow, almost weightless. But this is only training; the big race is yet to come.

Anouchka talks about her long-term alcohol addiction, which she tries to overcome in an autofictional screenplay. Reading, speaking and first person narrative gradually begin to mix.

Hands in movement. Fingers typing, grasping, turning screws. But the object is missing. An experimental animation and musical pantomime about our sense of touch.

The portrait of a blind, unkempt woman, filmed in her realm, which confronts us viewers with our set of viewing habits and aesthetic rules.

An observation. A snapshot, from a world where the clocks strike a different time. In his short train movie, Aleksej Evstigneev takes us to a quirky microcosm.

At full tilt and brightly surrealistic, this narrative flow circles around questions concerning a death. An electronically charged, garish chamber play. In the leading role: the subconscious, it seems.