Mansfeld, an East German mining region: The land is gone, but the slag heaps are still there. As a mighty colossus on a barren plain, as the top of a pyramid behind a terraced house, as a dark line on the horizon. These piles of former mining waste have become imposing landmarks. Emerson Culurgioni views them as sediments of history. The carefully framed tableaus of an empty, post-industrial landscape, crossed only occasionally by a Simson moped gang whizzing by, recall James Benning’s exploration of a human-made environment. In contrast to the stillness of the images, a stream of far-reaching reflections about soil and resources, war and crises, labour and destruction, East and West, origin and identity, home and belonging meanders on the soundtrack. Layer by layer, long-dumped memories are uncovered. At the end is the question: What value do we attach to them.

Grit Lemke

It is summer. Émile and his older sister Françoise are enjoying the last warm days in their holiday home on the edge of the forest, observing the night sky and looking out for comets. But one night the peaceful atmosphere is abruptly disrupted when the two siblings witness a cruel prank played by the neighbourhood boys. In his anger and helplessness, Émile wants to teach the kids a lesson. Afterwards, nothing is the same for him anymore and he has grown a little.

Lina Dinkla

When an illness brings life to a standstill, everything is suddenly called in question. We are used to functioning – using our body and mind to achieve goals, to fulfil our potential, to be there for others. But how do we react when this supposed normality no longer exists? When life as we knew it threatens to fall apart? “The Core” is a film about the fight against this disintegration and the struggle to answer the question of what constitutes life. Life as a filmmaker, woman and mother. Life that was already complete before the illness appeared and that now competes with the latter – for time and attention. Where is the essential core of a person, what can’t be surrendered without giving up one’s self? This auto-fictional film begins on a very personal note but shows clearly how much our approach to illness is shaped by society and how the insistence on “normality” makes life harder for those who fight for it every day.

Luc-Carolin Ziemann

Paul’s sister is sad: Ever since his little dog passed, her big brother has stopped drawing the fantastic comic adventures in which he and his dog were the heroes. His little sister doggedly insists that he finally complete that one unfinished drawing. And lo and behold, his beloved dog comes back to life in the pictures. Together, the two set out on a last, eventful journey. Maybe this makes it easier for Paul to say farewell. Beautifully drawn in blue and white, the film itself is designed like a comic.

Lina Dinkla

The baseball as an omen. While people watch spellbound as the leather ball flies through the air, maybe even losing themselves in this entertaining pastime in front of the television set or in the stadium, a worried bird is watching. Because the flying ball is gradually turning into the globe, which the bird now tries to protect with its own feathers in a makeshift nest. Originally conceived as a submission for an MTV competition, Killi has already found her important life themes with this debut film: the use of multiplane cut-out animation and the great empathy with which she articulates her bond with nature and the environment. For her, “The Glass Ball”, visually inspired by Eastern European masters like Yuri Norstein, is a reminder of the fragility of our earth to this day.

Marie Ketzscher

Building bridges over and over again. That is what keeps Florian and Malene busy, because how could it be otherwise: After all, the two children live on opposite sides of a brook but want to play with each other all the time. But then the war comes – and Florian is no longer allowed to visit Malene, because she now lives in enemy country: the brook has become barbed wire. In her child-oriented cut-out adult film (and vice versa!), Anita Killi explores the different ways young and old perceive life, visually inspired by the Norwegian painter Theodor Kittelsen. The microcosms of the little ones are lovingly captured, from playing in the snow to rubbing their noses together, while Killi also directs her attention to the arbitrariness of most conflicts. “War never dies, it just sleeps from time to time”, Florian’s father says, and: It’s the adults who wake it up. But maybe the succeeding generations will come up with something new after all?

Marie Ketzscher

Gosh, how boring and lonely it is here in the castle! That is what the little king thinks and so one day he vanishes. Everyone is desperate and at their wit’s end. The whole staff look for him for six days. No luck. And so the chamberlain, the commander, the jester and the second-in-command set out into the dangerous enchanted forest to find a new king. “The King Who Wanted More Than a Crown” was originally performed as a modern fable for all age groups with live orchestra accompaniment, to inspire a love of classical music especially in children. But even without live elements, Anita Killi's and Randall Meyers' cut-out animation works amazingly well. After all, it is not just brimming with loving detail and lively, colourful characters, but also breathes new life into the old adage “Don’t judge a book by its cover”.

Marie Ketzscher