Boi tries to be quiet, but the glasses are shaking in his hand. You must not disturb Papa! Because when Papa is disturbed, the angry man in him wakes up and beats his beloved Mama. In “Angry Man”, there is no hiding from the violence that creeps into every fibre of daily life in the form of nervous anticipation or paralysing panic. Yet despite his fear, Boi does the only right thing: He goes to get help. But Killi’s film is not just the story of a brave boy who breaks the spiral of domestic violence: Her work radiates empathy in every direction, including even the father. Because he has a monster inside him – a drawn one that grows and creeps before it pushes its way out, where it erupts as a cut-out angry man. He needs help, too. “Angry Man”, the adaptation of a picture book by Gro Dahle and Svein Nyhus, conveys in a humanistic and credible manner that people can free themselves and change. All without a romanticising happy end.

Marie Ketzscher

What is left when everything fades away? An old photographer tries to reconstruct people and events by means of old photographs, but they keep slipping away from him, vanishing in the dark, washed away by the waves. In his 2D animated film, rendered in black and white, Anton Dyakov not only shows how memories are lost, but also how they sometimes haunt and overwhelm us – for example in the shape of a disturbing archive fragment of blurred war photos. “Black Box” deals with loss and grief from a personal, yet universal perspective, while referencing the culture of remembrance in the digital age which is increasingly managing – or seeking to manage – without the haptic assurance of a printed photo.

Marie Ketzscher

Pesticides wipe out the insects, the oil spills into the ocean, the forests burn: In 1994, director Laila Rakvåg let a bird fly over and through the ecological, human-made hotspots that plague us even today to a far worse extent. Sometimes the bird is able to land in beautiful natural surroundings, but the rest is never permanent, paradise is always on the brink of the next hellish transformation. The further the bird flies, the more human its features become: It becomes a baby that is then actually born – and carries the memories of the bird in its newly opened eyes. We are inseparably linked to nature; what we do to it, we do to ourselves: Rakvåg’s film is an activist plea for more empathy with our planet and a change of thinking, told from the perspective of an expectant mother.

Marie Ketzscher

16-year-old Krzysztof was last seen on a bridge over Poland’s Vistula River in 2023. The CCTV camera briefly turned away, and by the time it returned, he had vanished. Following his disappearance, his father Daniel launches a relentless search in Poland’s largest river. As time piles up, the searches persist. Any tech that proves useful gets pulled into it, from drones to metal detectors, trackers, and even loaves of bread, sent floating down the current in the hope of locating the body. The camera matches these rhythms, dredging the river’s depths and combing its banks. The searches, showing the father’s restless energy and the sheer labour of this endeavour, mix with vérité scenes with his family, as well as news snippets about Krzysztof’s alleged sightings. Social media streams are scoured too, providing unsettling insights into the boy’s inner states. Director Michał Marczak – and by extension his camera – accompany Daniel, taking the audience along in a boat and into the heart of a family’s unresolved grief. As closure remains out of reach, Daniel starts assisting other searches, and sombre discoveries are made of other lives lost in the waters.

Sevara Pan

The stories, myths and reality of the Sámi people are always closely linked to reindeer: travelling with them, keeping them as livestock. Where does this close tie come from? Anita Killi takes up – or imagines – a creation myth: Alits, who roams the land and enjoys his idleness, is gifted the close tie to the reindeers in the shape of Joik (yodelling) by the daughter of the sun when she has to leave him again. The singing magically attracts the animals. Killi captures the yearning in these sounds with poetic imagery and in Sámi language: In the embraces of Alits and the daughter of the sun, but also in the moments when they roam the meadows. Everything is interconnected in this sensual and haptic concept of nature.

Marie Ketzscher

Romantic, mystical, folkloristic: Theodor Kittelsen's (1857–1914) oeuvre as a painter is not just dedicated to nature but also to legends and trolls – and has influenced artists to the present day. Natasha Nikitina for example, whose film takes up Kittelsen's twelve-part series of pictures "Soria Moria Palace" and his eponymous book: The young hero Askeladden sees the golden palace of Soria Moria in the distance and sets out to reach it; an allegory of the golden future that can be earned with a lot of hard work and dedication. In her film, however, Nikitina focuses more on the atmospheric element, letting a troll in a rock wake up and fall asleep again, letting geese and other birds take flight, letting fog and dusk turn into night and back into a glowing morning. A tribute to the artist, but also to the myth-enshrouded Norwegian landscape in general.

Marie Ketzscher

A Palestinian woman, Hind Mashahra, longs for motherhood, but this seems hardly possible as her husband is serving a life sentence in an Israeli prison and is barred from marital visits. Smuggling her husband’s sperm out of prison may be the only chance for her to become a mother again. The documentary follows Hind as she sets out on a risky mission to obtain and deliver her husband’s sample to a fertility clinic. Her repeated attempts are hampered by the traffic, checkpoints, and the short life of semen, perishing within just hours. Unadorned in its language, the film stays close to Hind’s inner experience in the throes of drama, shaped by the reality in the West Bank and East Jerusalem, as well as in quieter moments of waiting that are no less charged. Weaving in accounts of other prisoners’ wives, the documentary chronicles a Palestinian woman’s journey as she pursues motherhood at an extraordinary cost.

Sevara Pan

“Trees are life itself”, renowned botanist Stefano Mancuso says, leading a band of kids through what was once a densely wooded area. This becomes the setting for Victor Kossakovsky and Mancuso’s cinematically sprawling journey across Europe, even reaching Vatican City, following the fates of trees. In the Dolomites, trees stand like ghosts after the Storm Vaia devastated the forests. They became more vulnerable due to a planted monoculture of economically valuable fir trees. More damage then followed after the storm, as weakened and fallen trees became breeding ground for bark beetles. What do trees think or feel? Delving into their depths, the camera captures life that’s still sprouting and persisting. However, as winter matures, trees might not make it through the festivities. Chainsaws work tirelessly at fir-tree farms. Like strange cocoons, they are now packed in nets and bundled tightly, waiting for their send-off to homes and public squares. But people’s affection for them might be short-lived.

Sevara Pan

Vanja is a tiger, roaming the jungle, lurking, attacking. But when it gets dark, he is afraid – and when his sister Thea turns on the light, the brave tiger turns into a little boy in a completely leafless apartment. “I’m Not Afraid” is Vanja’s mantra, which he uses to hold his own in everyday life, when fantasy and reality blend seamlessly, when the dark staircase turns into a dungeon and the play of shadows into monsters. But also when he feels excluded by his older sister who does not want him to join in her games. Marita Mayer’s playful 2D animation follows Vanja through all emotional states and imaginary worlds, treats the needs of all children equally. Growing up is hard, being a child often is, too. But when everyone sees and understands the other it gets easier, and often it even becomes proper fun.

Marie Ketzscher

The collaborative artistic work of Menno de Noojer (son), Paul de Noojer (father) and Françoise de Noojer (mother), which oscillated between photography and experimental film, spanned almost fifty years. Rather than allowing posterity to label, categorise and, as the case may be, mothball their work, the three realised a final film together just before Paul de Noojer died, when he was already seriously ill. A last joint film as an exuberant self-homage, in which they combine experimental-documentary storytelling, performance, pixilation and stop motion, funny and sad moments, pathos and trash, a joy of putting on costumes and vulnerable nudity. With “Heaven is Blue? #2”, the Noojers celebrate life as a total work of art in which all processes of becoming human and all symptoms of decline have their place and death is a natural part of the whole.

Marie Ketzscher