The starting point of this documentary exploration is a 1980s abuse scandal in Cleveland, northern England, which turned out to be a scandal of false accusations. In his uniquely personal and literarily remarkable way, Ben Young discusses this historical event from offscreen. What we see is surprising contemporary footage of the region. Image and sound unite in a strong-minded attempt to capture a piece of local history by cinematic means.

Four creatures wobble like marionettes in the black void. An alien power tries to subdue them, police voices strike like truncheons. Bent, with bulging or thread-thin limbs, their skin turned inside out – human anatomy has mutated. But these vulnerable bodies start to fight back … “Scum Mutation” takes us into the battle zone without protection, into an indelible energy field of radical feminist protest – and becomes a resounding beacon of reconquest.

Bizarre animations of strange beauty on a metal plate, set to Free Jazz. Light reflexes. Lines and circles that take on human or insect form, merge and dissolve. Sometimes a voice from offscreen gives directions, demands a new plate. Then everything starts again – but differently. The realization dawns slowly: This is an expedition to an underworld that generates silently communicating ghost lights.

Using different techniques and materials – from charcoal pencils via watercolour to oil paints, against the backdrop of a photo – Chinese-American animation artist Renee Zhan has created a sensual, impressive and extremely original visualization of a well-known piece of wisdom: “Sex with an ex is the best.” The chance encounter of two former lovers at a station seems to trigger not only memories but also unsuppressible lust: anima porn in top form!

In search of the cat Leo a boy roams through sunny fields. Drifting without a care and digging up treasures in the mysterious darkness of the barn are the last throes of childhood before it ends. The crayon colours of this summer are overlaid with the whispering and rustling of shelter – and a premonition. Mara Cerri and Magda Guidi sharpen our senses for the impressions of a confusing age.

A gaudily coloured twisty slide takes us into emotional shallows. A squeaky voice complains about its inadequacies. It belongs to an animated figure which serves as a catch bowl for a soul that’s not doing well. Its creator has pieced it together, but something holistic does not pop out of the demiurgic mush. Tulapop Saenjaroen uncovers the beginnings of Thai animation and takes a critical look at the future promise of media placebos.

The opening scene shows the anger: It’s about rape. The observing documentary by Aïssata Ouarma is more composed, though, focused on dealing with the trauma and the attempts to come to terms with it through art. The heavily pregnant Mariam attends a theatre education workshop. The camera follows her and her empathetic trainer in moments of mental and physical exertion designed to free her soul – and that of her unborn child – for good.

Coupledom has its own dynamics. Her professional obligations do not tick by the clock, his cooking and love are extraordinary, but, alas, precisely timed. This all too familiar incompatibility is condensed into murky, acrid roast fumes and ends civilized, but bloody. Špela Čadež gradually slows down the pace, creating a space for the absurd goings-on to penetrate deeper and deeper. Black humour, “well done”.

A young woman attaches acoustic sensors to a tree, hammering nail after nail into the bark. Something stirs in the bowels of the earth, apparently attracted by the sound. This being, whatever it is, starts to search for its origin, gliding through tunnel systems, bizarre subterranean formations. Sometimes you see our world from below, people walking their daily paths. The soil lives! There is still a lot to discover.

In the spring of 2022, security guards in Moscow are tense. Under the guise of a film competition on the architecture of the city, Yana Osman and Anton Khamchishkin are permitted, if nothing else, to film the battlements of the Kremlin wall. But how to speak of the attack when you have to say “special military operation”? How to create pictures of resistance when filming any protest is forbidden? By pondering swallows and mathematical catastrophe theory, for example.