In the early 2000s, Maria Nikolaidou took a photo on Munich’s “Panzerwiese” (tank meadow): Her son Alexandros and another little boy playing war. A woman with angel’s wings wraps her arms protectively around the two of them. Twenty-three years later, mother and son return to the spot where the black and white photo was taken. Alexandros now uses the same camera to make a photo film about the image and also meets with his former playmate. Their voice-over memories and associations reveal different perspectives and moods. The history and stories behind a photograph are being reconstructed: What was overlooked at the time? Why were Alexandros’ grandparents not allowed to give him a gun? Who is the person on the hill in the background? In the end, a new image emerges.

Anke Leweke

Sisters Nazieh, Shazieh and Hanieh are from Afghanistan and live with their father at a refugee camp in Athens without any idea of how long they will stay there. Their mother has already arrived in Germany, where a new law now prevents the family from reuniting there as planned. They start growing up in a situation where waiting is the norm. The film accompanies the trio over seven years and shows the fragile normality they establish separately and together in the face of adversity: sport training sessions, language classes and shooting their own film scenes, which are marked by their experiences as refugees. Educator and filmmaker Christos Stefanou got to know the three sisters at the refugee camp, where he worked for five years as a teacher. Aware of the vulnerability of their situation and this phase in life, he follows a collaborative approach in his first feature-length documentary. Drawing on close-up observation, he captures the three sisters’ gestures, thoughts and everyday routines, which reveals their developmental steps and the passing of time not just in physical terms. And while their learning successes sometimes lose any meaning in the face of their constantly changing life situation, one essential question remains: will the family manage to get back together despite all the imponderabilities?

Tina Jany

When the writer Jan Christ talks about himself and his work, the words take on a life of their own. “The asshole in which I exist”, he says, referring to his progressive dementia, which causes not only the loss of memory, but also of language and authority. He is working on his last great oeuvre, a “Buch vom Grunde” (Book from the Depth). He struggles for lofty words. As an artist, he supports the artistic work of his daughter, who accompanies him with her camera during his final eight years. He directs himself or allows himself to be directed, while the filmmaker insists and does care work at the same time. In between, we see a vixen roaming the nocturnal streets of Berlin. Tete Hoffmann’s portrait of her father is at once a tribute, a confrontation, a crafty game and a helpless observation of the disintegration of a beloved person. Who has the right here to get attention, and when? Is it still permissible to continue exploring when the father and the writer have drifted apart? Clinging to language is contrasted with the letting go of images. “You are a vixen”, the brilliant father tells his brilliant daughter.

Jan Künemund

Light is burning in the old Franciscan church. The guests arrive to warm up and sleep. There is soup and Berliner doughnuts. When everyone has been taken care of, the light goes out again. A voice asks the filmmakers: Do you know Cologne well? A few photographs shown in-between a lot of black screen. People, places, Ingo talks. An alternative city tour from the perspective of persons living in the streets. Interesting even when you can’t make out much – possibly even art. At the end of this documentary miniature the light goes on again. And the protagonist steps out onto the street.

Jan Künemund

A cinematic observation of a landscape shaped and still marked by borders. Even 35 years after reunification, borders are still present in Marienborn. There is the memorial recalling the violence of the SED regime. Just a stone’s throw away, new borders have been added. Refugees now live in the former NVA barracks, which have been converted into a collective accommodation centre. To get here, they, too, had to cross borders, often clandestinely and at the risk of their lives. Now another border separates them from the outside world: a combination of wall and fence that inevitably brings to mind the former border security facilities of the GDR. In long tracking shots whose wide-angle view makes them seem almost otherworldly, the film observes this coexistence of opening and delineation. While the images make continuities visible, the sound brings out the subtle differences between the various locations.

Luc-Carolin Ziemann

Alberte and Nicole are mother and daughter, three decades apart. At 55 and 87, they still live together in a villa by Lake Geneva, having settled into a codependent dynamic: Nicole is reluctant to leave her mother, while Alberte struggles to let her go, fearing living alone. In a house filled with memorabilia, cats, and too many clocks, the familiar feels safe for the mother‑daughter duo who often doze off like synchronised swimmers. However, as time passes, the family grows concerned about Nicole’s autonomy. Nicole is considered neuroatypical, “ambivalent” regarding the perceived condition, and few facilities are equipped to provide adequate support. Nicole’s sister, Danielle, then decides to assist her in a search for a flat and a job. These scenes unfold alongside the family’s daily life and the intimate conversations in front of the camera. Nicole also embarks on a playful creative exercise with her filmmaker niece Lauren, imagining life’s many scenarios.

Sevara Pan

“Still I believe / We are created, free and equal / Now / Now / Now …” US-American singer Lena Horne interpreted the Hebrew song “Hava Nagila” with different lyrics: “Now!” (1963) became an anthem of the civil rights movement in the USA, while Santiago Álvarez’s film of the same name rose to become an agitprop classic. He edited photographs and a few short moving image sequences of racial discrimination, police violence and white terror to the rhythm of Horne’s song. The International Leipzig Documentary and Short Film Week alone screened “Now!” five times in two decades after it had won the Golden Dove in 1965. The presence of Cuban documentary film in Leipzig amounted to a long success story, not least thanks to Álvarez, its best-known exponent. In addition to screenings of his films, he served several times as a member of the International Jury. Even after the controversy surrounding his stance on the Prague Spring 1968, Álvarez continued to be a regular guest.

Florian Wüst

Marta Rodríguez and Jorge Silva made their first appearance in Leipzig in 1972, with “Planas, testimonio de un etnocidio” (1971) in the retrospective “Film in the People’s Struggle for Freedom: Latin America” as well as in the television competition and in the cinema competition with “Chircales” (1972). Both films were awarded Golden Doves, Rodríguez and Silva became instant stars of the festival. In 1975, “Campesinos” brought them back to Leipzig. This film marks the beginning of their exploration of the centuries-old oppression of indigenous communities in the Cauca region in southwestern Colombia and their equally long resistance against colonial exploitation and dispossession. Years later, the theme culminated in “Nuestra voz de tierra, memoria y futuro”, in which they used some shots from “Campesinos”. Rodríguez and Silva document the process of political organisation in the Coconuco community during the land reform movement of the 1970s, with extensive critical collaboration by their protagonists. At the same time, it was an attempt to leave the naturalism of the documentary format behind and approach the subconscious mind of the indigenous culture, “to depict its magical world in all its complexity and beauty”, as Silva put it in a conversation with Peter B. Schumann in the information leaflet of the 1982 Berlinale Forum. The film re-celebrated its world premiere in its restored digital version at the 2019 Forum.

Florian Wüst

Countless families in the Tucumán province, one of the poorest regions in Argentina, become unemployed after the annual sugar cane harvest. The state installs so-called popular kitchens to combat hunger. Children and old people spoon the thin broth almost apathetically. “These images are stark and elementary. Without commentary, the camera confronts us with conditions of destitution that even the most eloquent pleas are unable to describe”, Peter Kress notes in the report of the 1970 West German Short Film Festival. As a counterpoint to the images, “Ollas populares” is set to the Argentinian national anthem. Can its lyrics only be understood as an expression of cynicism? Maybe it can be interpreted quite differently – as a revolutionary call to arms: “Hear the noise of broken chains. / See noble equality enthroned.” Gerardo Vallejo’s film was made in the constant fear of exposure of its authorship, which is why it is listed anonymously in the Oberhausen programme.

Florian Wüst

The screen is filled with the lightness of a summer’s day. A lake tempts people to swim and have fun, the sun sparkling on the water. A young woman is wavering on its banks, another reaches out her hand to her. The exuberant scenes are overlaid by the narrative of another woman recalling early, painful sexual experiences. At first, the words and the images seem to stand in contrast to each other. But the longer the sun shines, the more the narrative and the images overlap. The offscreen narrator speaks more and more freely, reporting how she suppressed the wishes and needs of her body at first. An encounter with a woman makes her discover her desire and pleasure. The impressions of the lake bring her increasingly beautiful descriptions to life – this day could not have a more romantic ending.

Anke Leweke

The brothers Matheus and José live in Brazil by the rivers of the Kalunga Quilombo, a community of descendants of escaped slaves. The springs and rivers are an important part of their life and they both know how precious and worth protecting these waters are. They love to collect stones there which they use for their artworks. The film follows the brothers on their forays along the water for a bit and tells of their special connection to this place.

Lina Dinkla