Pregnancy, birthing and parental care are strongly charged social roles. The partly absurd public discourse about them – reinforced by hyper-positive media images and stereotypes – makes natural concerns feel less and less natural. Evolutionary necessities have been turned into ciphers whose collective emotional over-forming leaves next to no space for personal experience. In this phase of life, self-awareness and external perception often diverge substantially. There is usually little room, neither for fears and doubts nor for any other emotion, outside the generally prescribed bliss. Prenatal stages of development seem pre-defined, standardised, tried and tested. Little can be done “right”, much “wrong”. Every decision for or against a pre-natal optimisation measure counts. Nothing is left to chance.
But what if chance strikes anyway? When the ultrasound diagnosis yields a painful result? How does obstetrics, obsessed with detail, handle deviations from “the plan”, how does it deal with the fact that statistically one in six pregnancies ends in miscarriage? Filmmaker and editor Irem Schwarz’s found footage collage is a haunting combination of terribly omnipresent cliché imagery that addresses these relevant questions in a voice that is more than just her own.

Students of the State Technical University in Santiago de Chile film and accompany the “March for Life”, which was part of the September 1970 presidential elections in their country. An electoral alliance of communists, socialists and sections of the Christian centre, the “Unidad Popular”, successfully supported Salvador Allende’s bid for the presidency.

After the Wehrmacht invaded Czechoslovakia in 1939, the Jewish population was disenfranchised and killed, as this etude, staged at the Terezín Memorial, recalls. The fact that there was successful Jewish resistance even in extermination camps like Sobibór did not fit in with the traditional image of the passive victims that is melodramatically re-enforced by this film.

A mysterious film reel from the “Regional Film Studio Leipzig” holdings: labelled “Sierra Leone”, passed down without sound. After some official speeches, an ensemble from Sierra Leone perform a danced symbolic fight for their GDR hosts. Later, local and international couples sway on the dance floor to live music – non-protocol encounters with independent guests, in both senses of the word.

Inspired by the estate of a Romanian photographer in which 5,000 glass plate negatives from the 1930s to the 1950s survived undiscovered for a long time, a touching love story evolves. In 1939, Anna Florea meets the young soldier Jean Mihail in her home village in Bukovina. A moonshine kiss seals their affection. But all too soon, Jean is ordered to the frontline. His passionate letters keep the connection alive. But when Anna must flee the site, the contact breaks off.
Their great love is fragile, damaged by war and time – just like the old studio and everyday photographs this animated documentary uses to illustrate optimism and impending loss. Anna Florea herself narrates the film: in retrospect, at the age of 91. Her warm and gentle voice reanimates the memories seemingly stored in these pictures. Those “frozen” on the photographic plates begin to move, are made to glow in oil-on-glass overpaintings, blossom and take us with them into the past.

Under the banner of international solidarity, Arab children from refugee camps in Jordan are spending a holiday in the GDR in 1970. This political gesture ties in with the recently redefined position of the GDR in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. At the World Youth Festival in 1973, Yasser Arafat was already seen standing next to Erich Honecker on camera.

After the military coup in Chile and the death of Salvador Allende in 1973, tens of thousands of opposition members were persecuted and murdered. The GDR took in about 2,000 refugees, including nine-year-old Tania and her family. The fact that the GDR was initially sceptical about Allende’s politics and granted political asylum only to selected Chileans is part of the logic of a bipolar world order.

Apulia, 1959: Women in white dresses dance ecstatically in a small chapel. They jump around, roll on the ground, some even climb the altar. They are said to have been bitten by a spider. Their dancing mania requires a ritual exorcism with music. Pictures like these inspired Italian anthropologists to travel to southern Italy. Equipped with tape recorders, film and photo cameras, they tracked down the phenomenon of tarantism.
This essayistic documentary follows the wealth of multi-media archive material produced on this research trip. It brings out the voices of the affected women, who turn out to be experts of their own performances. A special relationship developed between the scientist Annabella Rossi and the “tarantata” Michela Margiotta, with their correspondence at the centre of the film. Even today, these images of female frenzy are disturbing, revealing the loss of control of husbands, families, science and the church. In today’s Apulia, the film discovers living forms of tarantism, tamed as folklore, a tourist attraction. There are new poisons that have infested the system. They, too, must be danced out.

Pensioner Lehmann, folk artist Köppe, engineer Krahnstöver and the famous painter Willi Sitte: Four GDR citizens explain their motives and actions for solidarity with Vietnam. The emphasis is on the global nature of the protests against the war in the Far East, also and especially in Western countries, and therefore the system-spanning character of the movement. An appeal to the audience to get involved.

In the early 1980s, Poland is in a state of emergency. The country’s democracy movement, represented by the free Solidarność trade union, is to be suppressed. To this end, President Wojciech Jaruzelski declares martial law on 13 December 1981. In collusion with the Soviet Union a threatening scenario is staged to justify the “stan wojenny”. As a result, Western nations like Great Britain and the USA impose economic sanctions on the Eastern Bloc state. This produces a complex field of tension in which the Polish population are confronted with existential shortages on the one hand but continue their struggle underground on the other – despite curfews, telephone surveillance and a media system controlled by the military.
In his found footage film, Tomasz Wolski brings the explosive, the everyday and the iconic together to provide an insight into a situation that is as absurd as it is dangerous. The extremely dynamic (and musical) montage illustrates the rapid and convoluted succession of events while at the same time intervening through comments, quite often with a notable sense of humour, for example, when Wolski helps a British news correspondent not always on top of events to a bit of retroactive glory: “Most fundamental is the … Hang on, sorry, sorry, could you … Photography and filming will be widely controlled …”