There are documentary heroes of such strength and vitality that you fall in love with their charm from the very first moments. As a viewer, you are ready to follow them through fire and water. Naima is exactly such a case – undoubtedly enhanced by the directorial talent and masterful dramatic work of Anna Thommen. Both fire and water will be present.
Naima’s story is the story of a migrant in Europe who has to start her life from scratch when she moves from Venezuela to Switzerland. She used to work in marketing for international companies, but now she ekes out a living with various service jobs. Naima does not give up and fights for the chance to be with her children again. Due to her financial difficulties, the two teenagers live with her ex-husband. When she is given the opportunity to undergo the desired training as a nurse and a preparatory internship in a psychiatric ward, Naima faces significant challenges. Her supervisor dislikes her, which practically leads to the internship not being credited. So there is no shortage of fire and water for our heroine. But Anna Thommen’s portrait is a testament to the human spirit’s ability to endure and even overcome conflagration. It is a must-watch for anyone seeking an inspiring and emotionally touching documentary.

Hunger and hardship ruled the Piemontese mountain village of Ughettera at the beginning of the 20th century. The meek peasants complained neither about the parasitic priests nor the tough seasonal winter work in neighbouring France – not even when the Italian state called them to arms and sent them first to Libya, then into the World War. Only when the Fascists arrive did the Ughetto family trade its home for new deprivations and new hopes across the border.

With this imaginatively directed puppet animation, Alain Ughetto has created a warm-hearted memorial to his Italian grandparents Cesira and Luigi. With subtle humour, tenderness and empathy he tells of generations who lived in poverty, but also of happiness and love, fortunes and misfortunes. “You don’t come from a country, you come from your childhood”, Cesira teaches him. The director finds himself in this family chronicle, recognises his predilection for working with his hands. Soon the film becomes a reflection on telling stories with what these hands shaped. They are frequently present in the frame – piling charcoal into a mountain, making forests from broccoli or simply getting handed a cup of damn strong espresso by Cesira.