Something is wrong. Something is completely wrong. With the sound and with the image. The notes are crooked, the piano lid squeaks, the movement falters. Corrections are needed to bring everything together in harmony and in tune with Johann Sebastian Bach’s beautiful music.
Six roles of painted toilet paper are worked on by human hands on an editing table, one after the other. The editing device consists of coloured building blocks and a few wooden sticks. It is a game, a trick, it’s entertainment. At the same time, the simple images on the film strip take us deep into the current events of our time. But the material resists sharply delineated representation. It soaks up the paint and blurs the boundaries. It tears. It is limited. Before the story can pick up speed, the roll is unspooled. Narrative is difficult in view of this situation. And yet animation artist Anna Samo manages, with a very light touch, to transform ambivalent feelings, confusion, rigidity and speechlessness into a work of hope and courage.

A dimly lit, scarcely furnished flat, the hissing and buzzing of an open microphone. What follows is an argument in Arabic between mother and son. She complains about his lethargy. He sees no point in school while the country is at war. At last, the boy sets out through the busy streets of his neighbourhood which is a chaotic patchwork of everyday life and the debris of war.
Using 3D graphics software, Husein Bastouni reconstructs from his personal memories the situation in the Palestinian refugee camp of Yarmouk in the south of Damascus when the area found itself between the frontlines in the Syrian war. Visually and acoustically – indeed, almost olfactorily – his film draws you into this world from the first second with terrifying immediacy, and yet poetically. In a moment of shock, the rhythm slows down, the images become sparser, but the protagonist’s reflections become crystal clear. In the silence of thought, the eye glides like a deep-sea diver through a sunken city and a lost home.

The six Albanian Burrneshas who tell their stories here want to decide for themselves how they want to live. They realised early on that the patriarchal society severely restricts their freedom. So they became Burrneshas and slipped into the social role of men in order to have agency, be independent and able to support their family economically, to escape forced marriages and harassment. And they have a lot of fun along the way, too. But breaking through gender barriers comes with a price. You stay a Burrnesha for life, sealed by an oath. The price of freedom is usually the renunciation of an openly lived sexuality, children and a family.
The impressive protagonists of this superbly photographed film show how much strength it takes to practise masculine gender stereotypes. Not all of them have enough energy to simultaneously assert and subvert clichés and male claims to power. For the new generation of feminists in Albania, the Burrneshas are role models, but also a warning. Because the goal of emancipation is far from achieved just because an avant-garde of courageous women manage to smuggle themselves into the heart of the patriarchy with a leap. If you are after the system, you must not copy the structures but abolish them.