Lehen begiratuan, Kameleoik eta Kiwik bikote bitxia osatzen dute: lehenengoak atentzioa ematen du bere kolore aldakorrekin, Kiwi burusoilak, aldiz, ihes egiten dio arretari eta beti dago beldurrak jota. Baina hurbiltzen ari den ekaitz batek teilatua birrintzen duenean, ez dago desberdintasunentzako lekurik: elkarri lagundu behar diote itsasertzean zain dagoen ontzira iristeko! Ez da zeregin erraza, ordea! Arka hautatutako bikoteentzat soilik da eta, Kameleoi, bere mingain handiarekin, eta Kiwi begiokerra ez daude hautatuen artean. Azkenean, ontzian sartzea lortzen dute, baina arazoak hasi baino ez dira egin: Kiwi eta Kameleoi nahi gabeko eta ustekabeko zama bihurtzen dira, eta ontziko ordena hausten dute. Arka jada itsasoratu da eta lurra azkar gelditzen ari da urpean…
This short animated film about a little boy who longs for deep-sea adventures in a snow-covered city is a homage to Jacques Cousteau.
It's the last day of the month. Bowlers flock to the lanes of a bowling alley that has seen better days. Mira, the manager, decides to close early.
She's awaiting the arrival of a special visitor.
X is growing up in the 1990s, she makes prank calls as a child and gets her first job in telephone sales as a teenager. Office smells, heavy breathers, and meaningless greetings follow her from one workplace to another. Through archival material and amateur video footage, the narrative reflects X's actions as a faceless subject playing with her voice as a commercialised asset. Am I Calling You At A Bad Time is an experimental documentary with fictional elements based on recollections of true events.
Inside my head, there's a cat, a dog, and a pile of rocks.
Starting with an excerpt from an Albanian feature film from the communist era in which a boy dreams of the construction of a modern city, EVERY EPOCH DREAMS THE NEXT reflects on how a cityscape changes as power structures shift and how these power structures can override the common good and the general public.
A day in the life of a woman who is busy taking care of her obese dog. Her lovely show of affection towards the animal is interrupted by the arrival of her partner, who, in need of the woman's attention, affects the cozy atmosphere of the house.
In Slet 1988, the dancer Sonja Vukićević (74) moves through the utopian architecture of socialist modernism—her aging body is an archive of the last mass performance in Yugoslavia. Her gestures echo past rhythms and present realities, intertwining with a teenage girl’s diary from 1988 and exposing the shift from socialist collectivism to rising individualism while a new national collective body was creeping in, soon to shape the future of the country.
