A farmer chances upon a book, and within its pages he perceives that the devotion of his life, since his first breath, draws near its close. Once touched by knowledge, he feels estranged from cows, no longer bound to their world.
A cinematic interpretation of a singular aspect from the universe of Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude. Emerging from Macondo, the film foregrounds the domestic routines of the Buendía women who repair and renovate the house each time it collapses under extraordinary events across the century. These recurring gestures, which in the novel traverse generations, are recontextualized through the logic of contemporary reality and reconfigured into a visual play of form that interrogates narrativity.
Dr. Sjarif, a researcher, is reconstructing a lost city, Kejora, using found objects. In the imaging laboratory where he works, two ghosts are watching him, waiting for an opportunity to sneak back into the city he is rebuilding.
A visual essay obsessed with lines in space—as form, boundaries, and language—that tells a story about a part of the history of solidarity through cinema. Will they have a second chance?
Fragments of light and language once circulated under a military regime’s gaze. Drawing from newspaper archives and the incident site, the work asks what printed words conceal, preserve, or reveal. In revisiting the 1984 Tanjung Priok tragedy, it examines both the violence itself and the contested role of media in shaping memory and truth. Two narratives emerge: official accounts and marginal voices. By confronting archival dissonance, the film exposes how media operates—exhuming suppressed histories and counter-narratives, and suggesting that history is shaped not only by authorities, but also by what remains unwritten.
Some people draw fragments of lines on paper as an idea of possible disasters that could happen to them. These lines turn abstract ideas into something that is visually identifiable. The collection of images of objects and lines then becomes a depiction of an event. From this process emerges a collective visual narrative in which personal experiences are represented as part of a shared pattern, emphasizing the connection between individual perceptions and broader visual constructions.
This audiovisual essay dives into the complexity of the border space from three European enclaves located in African territory: Ceuta, Melilla and the Canary Islands. The film plunges into the gap that unites and separates Africa and Europe, in search of the ruins and ghosts from the wreckage of the utopias that have grown on both sides: Europe as a promised land for the dispossessed South and Africa as a paradise for the exotic-hungry North.
Afloat follows Owen, a young man burdened by shame, fear, and trauma, who returns home and takes an experimental pill meant to erase emotional pain. What he hopes will heal him only makes things worse.
After 12 years of documentary courses being absent as a form of Integrated Practicum in the Film Department at IKJ, Bikeska, Paul, Arrivo, and Raihanul chose to break the tradition. Amidst the dominance of fiction films, which are considered more prestigious, they chose documentaries due to budget constraints and a desire to respond to the world in a more honest and intimate way. Their poetic documentary film captures two layers of reality: a man who draws architectural spaces, and the laborers who build them. However, the process led to a creative crisis and the images were too structured as the treatment felt like fiction filmmaking. The question arose: were they recording reality or constructing it? The camera turned around, highlighting the team’s process and confusion. Ultimately, the film not only captures space and labor, but also reflects that documentaries, like buildings, are the result of construction and choice.
Lucas has had feelings for his co-worker ever since he started his new job, but doesn’t know how to make a move - until an unexpected friend speaks up to give him advice… whether it’s actually helpful is another question.
Antonello is a forty-year-old man from Irpinia who is deeply attached to his homeland despite the myriad daily problems he faces. Boredom, depression, the incivility around him and, above all, love convince him to pack his bags and leave in search of something new, a place where "people still look at the sky."
In a boxing gym on the northern outskirts of London, dominated by boys, an eleven-year-old girl struggles to be seen. Her act of defiance becomes a touching portrait of pain, courage, and resilience.
Years after a brutal family tragedy, two estranged brothers reunite and return to their desolate childhood home. A house heavy with remorse, guilt, and grief, reflecting everything that went wrong with them.
Mina is in Cannes to perform three nights during the Festival. She hangs out in cozy clubs and hotel rooms, moving from the arms of lovers to those of friends. There is Mina the performer, but also Mina the Italian singer of the 1970s, whom Mina summons to the stage every night.