The legacy: grandfather’s collection of bird’s eggs. 4,500 graceful, fragile works of art created by nature; speckled, elongated, pastel-coloured… An orderly confined enclosure of uniform boxes houses the preserved cocoons of the stolen, thwarted offspring of birds of prey and non-predatory birds, from Norway to South Africa. With the legacy comes the story of the collector: Josef Schreiber from Vorarlberg, Central Europe – a middle-class, white, male biography of the 20th century in which order was lost, slipped, had to be reimagined, both on the grand scale and on the smallest private level. Claudia Larcher’s extraordinary essay film is an unflustered tale of restlessness. Personal photos, views of collection pieces and small AI-generated miniatures are overlaid by electronic sounds that seem to communicate with the algorithms of the shell patterns, and a spoken line of thought that traces, sorts and keeps together almost 100 years of change with breathtaking clarity.

André Eckardt

Charel the bachelor is the odd man out in a small village community of simple-minded oddballs. They grumpily let him now that he does not live up to the manly character of his name anyway. A careless moment with the beloved fish of his otherwise hard-hearted mother catapults him from the outsider position into the centre of an unfortunate chain of events. Full of good intentions and hopes of recognition, he poaches his way through the biblical story and returns with a heavenly child. Not part of his plan: The village does not see him as a divine messenger but as the Horned One. “Melk” portrays its Bruegel-like, robust characters precisely, down to the smallest facial twitch and squeaky voice, subtly interweaving the absurd and the everyday and plundering art history shamelessly yet skilfully to distort a peasant play into a folk horror tale. It’s for films like this that animation was invented.

André Eckardt

Son of the local brothel owner, Ismael lives in the small town of Vereda. He leaves his home town in search of two things that he’s never set eyes on – his father and the sea. Together with his idiosyncratic, yet loyal dog Bacalhau, he wanders through the parched Brazilian hinterland, heading towards greater experience and a sense of himself that goes beyond the label “son of a bitch”. Its design recalling a graphic novel, this road movie on foot is at once raw and crude, tender and profound and above all a lot of fun.

Franka Sachse

After years on the high seas, a pirate returns home to his mum. She still loves him unconditionally, just like the day he was born. And that’s despite all the many irritations – he hasn’t been in touch for years, and now has a nose ring and is full of tattoos. And he also carries secrets with him on his return, concealed in the heavy suitcase he brings to the house while coughing up blood. With a gentle pastel colour palette and distinctively animated characters, Alexandre Siqueira tells the story of what it means when a mother is forced to watch her adult child die. Siqueira’s focus also lies on the general intimacy between mothers and children which is sometimes challenged: the pirate tattoos that take some getting used to can also be seen as symbolic of other life decisions that are foreign to a mother at first. Sometimes acceptance also implies letting go.

Marie Ketzscher