Every day the shoes from the shoe rack have new adventures. Today, the rubber boots Buddel and Torf tell the other shoes about their experience on a rainy day with a huge dark puddle in the playground, and what trick the unicorn rubber boots Chunk and Tuva used to take away their fear of getting thoroughly dirty … Episode three of the popular KiKA series.

Sanjivani, a young woman from a rural area in the state of Maharashtra in central India, is a loving and tender mother. After her husband’s suicide, she lives with her brother-in-law who makes her work in the fields. She is now solely responsible for her two kids, faced with a mountain of debt left by her husband and the structures of a patriarchal society that incapacitates and renders invisible widows like her. It is only when she joins a group of women who suffered similar fates that she slowly gains some self-confidence. She is not alone with her despair and grief – the suicide rate among peasants who took their lives in the face of crop failures and dumping prices on the globalised market is harrowing: 400,000 in the last twenty years.
Kinshuk Surjan not only observes people and circumstances with compassion; he also stands for a cinema that makes a difference. The women’s group he follows here only came together as a result of his film project. In impressive images and with great empathy for the protagonists he portrays, he not only succeeds in producing a careful representation of highly complex contexts, but also a truly documentary intervention into unacceptable conditions – with the aim of improving them.

Breathtakingly beautiful and precisely synchronised circles perform linear movements – sensual highs, but based on science. Electronica producer and science PhD Max Cooper has found the perfect visual fit for his euphoric and driving track in a geometrical principle described by Gerolamo Cardano in 1570 and in Mario Carrillo’s animation.

19-year-old Maydegol fled from Afghanistan to Iran with her family. Here she tries to make her big dream come true: She wants to be a professional Muay Thai boxer. The sport not only gives her strength for her gruelling daily life, but is also meant to help her get out of this inhospitable exile at last and work towards social change in Afghanistan. In order to be able to afford the training, Maydegol works every spare minute without her parents’ knowledge, including on fruit and vegetable plantations. She reflects on her apparently hopeless situation with friends from her boxing club: stuck in a foreign country, without documents and without prospects. The young women do not give up, though; they state clearly what they think, what they demand and what they expect from life.
Maydegol’s expectations are as special as she is. The likeable, captivating protagonist not only impresses with her persistence, but also with her authentic personality, which shines through in this documentary – even in the dark moments.

In 1945, the Red Army are advancing on German territory, the Second World War is drawing to an end. Families are still trying to escape to America, but many plans fail. Five-year-old Sophie also loses her father and mother during the flight. They are killed by Nazi officer Scharf and a Soviet soldier named Vasily, with Hitler Youth Beckmann as a witness. The gruesome event takes place in an extremely strange hotel which henceforth will bind the four survivors to its premises in bizarre ways, no matter which rooms of the truly scary building they find themselves in. Up in the lounge, where the new customers arrive one by one, down in the kitchen, where the now grown-up Sophie prepares food, or even in an alcove near the elevator shaft, where Beckmann hides with the rats. The involuntary permanent guests age but never tire of courting Sophie.
Heinrich Sabl has built an excitingly disturbing dollhouse decorated with quotes from reality for the German-Soviet history of guilt and coping. In his first feature-length animated film, on which the director worked for more than twenty years, he sends extraordinary characters on an equally extraordinary visual and acoustic time journey through the war-damaged suites of the 20th century.

See the Sphinx, Ancient Rome and the Eiffel Tower – all in one day! This 360° film is a visit to a miniature park and to the work of the Creator who builds it. By toying with our sense of scale, “Minitourism” engages with ideas of world-building and virtual reality as a medium. Both playful and contemplative, it invites us to consider the ways we build our world.

More than twenty years have passed since the death of Catalan architect Enric Miralles. He left iconic traces with his buildings, not just in and around Barcelona – the Scottish parliament in Edinburgh is also based on his designs. Maria Mauti chooses a poetic approach to her impressive protagonist, in eleven variations. They take us from the Igualada cemetery to a community centre in Hostalets de Balenyà, a gym in Huesca or the Torre Marenostrum office skyscraper in Barcelona. The architect’s home with its open and at the same time labyrinthine character is given a major role, becoming the starting point and epicentre of a unique mind.
Maria Mauti carefully scans the still lively architectures, stages them. In Huesca, the smell of a sweating soccer team seems to mingle with the omnipresent cool raw concrete, while a group of Spanish cowboys and cowgirls shake their leather boots in the futuristic community centre. Despite the tragic note that comes from the work of the prematurely deceased, “Miralles” is not without a certain wit. This poised essay which combines personal and theoretical statements achieves a multi-layered quality that is in itself evocative of a Miralles design: airy and dense, abrupt and fluid, always idiosyncratic.

There was an eery silence after a fire had destroyed the Moria camp completely in September 2020. Not just locally, but in public discourse. The world did not seem particularly concerned with the inhumane conditions in other camps on Europe’s external borders or the countless pushbacks in the Mediterranean. Nor did the arrest of six adolescents who were accused of arson resonate in any audible way – though even a second glance at the circumstances of the investigation and the criminal proceedings revealed the actions of the Greek judiciary to be questionable. Not to mention the underlying refugee policy of the European Union.
Jennifer Mallmann dares to take this second glance with her film. At its centre is her correspondence with Hassan, one of the convicted youths, who tells her of his everyday life, his desires and fears from prison. Calm, precisely framed images document “normality” on the fringes of Fortress Europe. They show how strategical isolation and the ensuing structural exclusion work. If you want to know how our community of nations imagines its future you only need to look at the newly-built futuristic high-security camps, where new arrivals are treated like people who have committed serious crimes.

In the deliberately chosen style of an old-fashioned field report, a fictional explorer describes his observations on gold-mining in Venezuela. His mission takes him along the Orinoco, from remote jungle mines to industrial zones. His focus stays on the workers and their environment. The titular Moriche palm tree, an edible and crop plant growing along the river, serves as an example for the relationship between humans and nature and their use of raw materials. Paradoxically, the gold-diggers live in harmony with Mother Earth as their nourisher and healer, but at the same time destroy her. As in so many other places in the world, their very survival depends on an economic system inherited from colonialism. The rapid pace of capitalism is in glaring contradiction to the arduous extraction of the gold dust, produced only by slow processes of erosion.
As the narrator drifts along the river and meditates on different contexts, the images work their way through the layers of the complex subject. The immersive poetic journey alternates between observational Bolex shots, hand-drawn illustrations and abstract visualisations of photochemical reactions. Accompanied by a sound design both distinct and elaborate, the lustre of the gold literally glitters from the screen.

Moscow, summer 1957: The famous amateur filmmaker Alfred Dorn takes us to the 6th World Festival of Youth and Students, which was intended to promote encounters and exchange between young people from all over the world as a reaction to the Second World War. Curious and amazed, the camera explores the metropolis Moscow with its iconic buildings and squares, complete with numerous festival visitors.

The child and the otter live in a small cottage in the woods. Their water source has dried up a while ago. In their distress they set out together to the snow-covered mountains to bring back a supply from the icy summits … With her first animated film, illustrator Malin Neumann delivers a poetic tale in warm colours about the vital importance of water.

A touching dive under the sea, as we meet teenager Kanope on his journey to Europe. And we, underwater, with him. Poetic and beautifully animated, the film is grounded in the tragedy of those who could not finish their journey. “Murmuration” is inspired by real stories of minor migrants, who also contributed their voices to the film.

“My therapist said it’s like an Abschied,” Monica Vanesa Tedja says. Monic embarks on a journey from Berlin to Indonesia to return to the bosom of the family for a short while. The camera is in the luggage, and an important question: Can the devout Christian parents who are so happy about the visit accept their child’s non-binary, queer concept of life and identity instead of blocking it out?
In the beginning we see private archival footage of a supposedly perfect childhood. Monic talks about their own dreams and fears. We listen to tense phone calls with the mother and exchanges with friends, we learn details from therapy sessions. This film is not about harsh confrontations but rather about a quiet departure, about changing relationships, the significance of biological and chosen families, about letting go and arriving – perhaps where you least expect it.