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

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

Why are we so fascinated by the ancient world even today? In 2023, the viral hashtag #RomanEmpire brought to light how many people are still captivated by ancient Rome – men above all. For Pinji, the director’s uncle, this fascination has long since become a life project. He lives in an old house in Bulgaria, looks after a collection of antique treasures and has been writing a book about antiquity for years. When his nephew comes to visit, uncle Pinji does not hesitate: With humorous implacability, he launches into a rhetorical "demolition" of the present age. Toddi listens closely and decides to join the fight. He implements himself and Pinji in a computer game, right into the middle of an antique battle. Now the present is battling the past – outcome uncertain.

Luc-Carolin Ziemann

“Tire dié” begins with aerial shots of Santa Fe, Fernando Birri’s hometown. We hear a litany of statistical data that gradually and parodically turn into more and more trivial facts about the city. The camera approaches the town’s outskirts with their informal settlements, drops from its airy heights down to the eye-level of those who talk about their daily struggle for survival. Often it is the children who bring the necessary coins home. Every afternoon, they go begging along the nearby two-kilometre railway bridge. Running barefoot along the train that connects Santa Fe with Buenos Aires, they hold their hands up to the travellers at the windows, incessantly calling “tire dié” (throw a dime). The last third of the film, which marks the birth of the new Latin American cinema, is an equally breathtaking and harrowing montage of this daring endeavour.

Florian Wüst

Szymon and Franek live near the river Oder, where Poland and Germany meet. They spend everyspare moment with their friends at the skate park, a place where everyone meets, no matter where they come from. This short documentary, shot on 16mm, follows two children growing up in a border region who wonder what borders actually are: Something tangible, like the river they look at, or something that exists only in their minds?

Lina Dinkla