Ivars Zviedris

An absurd game of “finding happiness” is being played by local Latvian coyotes* and illegal immigrants on the Russian and the European Union border. It is a game with no winner – all participants are driven to play by the sense of despair. While one side leaves home and undertakes a perilous journey to the other side of the globe, hoping to spend the rest of their lives in a free country, the other side risks their freedom to earn a chance to stay right where they are, in their homeland. *coyote – someone who smuggles illegal immigrants

People escaping from home. Escaping to a better life. Escaping from themselves to a globalized world. Over the last years, tens of thousands of Latvians have left Latvia in search of a better life in Ireland. This film reveals the way some of them live, far abroad from home and their families: their desires, emotions, life conditions and relationships.

Alekss arrives at the Murjāņi sports school to become a champion. He’s introduced to the ironclad daily routine, which starts at 7 AM and ends at 8 PM, with practices twice a day and the rest of the time filled with lessons, exams and homework, just like at any other school. He has to wash his own clothes, make his own bed and clean his own room. The second hero of the film, Kristaps, has been living at Murjāņi for three years now. He takes part in the European Youth Olympic Festival, where everyone is strong but only a select few make it to the winners’ podium. Luck is not on Kristaps’ side in this case, and what he gets are only harsh reprimands and tears in his eyes. This slice of life at Murjāņi shows the difficult path to victory through sweat, tears and hard work.

In the godforsaken land on both sides of the Latvian-Estonian border people are awaiting "the coming of Europe" in candlelight with no electricity. This film paints the difference between urban consciousness and simpler rural values.

They fell trees in the forest, work in brigades and live in trailers or empty apartments far from home. The work is heavy. During moments of respite, the loggers like to sit on the stumps and talk about life. And about women – those waiting at home, or those they imagine.

It's Latvia on the 20th of September, 2003 - the day of the referendum about joining the European Union. On the day of the referendum, twelve Latvian film directors of different generations portray twelve different characters across the country. Their life stories and environments affect their decision of voting “for” or “against”.

The monument to help is a small shop in the center of Alūksne – a social, cultural, and human place in the small city of Malēnija, where everyone knows, loves, and hates each other. The walls, floors, and communications of the former Alūksne post office have worn out. In winter, a small stove barely heats the rooms. Shelves full of various items attract strangers. Loud and energetic Ginta fits perfectly into this place and situation. She knows how to chat, criticize, and help everyone. Ginta's image complements everything that happens in this charity shop, where goods cost 20 cents. This place is like an island of the past, located next to a modern supermarket where you can buy almost nothing for 20 cents. She does not know how long she will be able to maintain contact between those who donate their unwanted items to the shop and those who come to buy them for 20 cents.

A dialogue between a mother and her son.

The documentary “Residents” probes problems in Latvia in general and Latvia’s medicine in particular with the story of two energetic young interns, Kārlis and Laura.

An attempt to understand the people chanting "Atlaist Saeimu!" (Sack the parliament!) year after year. Though rarely attracting a great deal of notice, there are always individuals collecting signatures for a referendum to dissolve the parliament for one reason or another, or simply standing outside the building and reciting their familiar mantra. Latvian governments change fairly often, but the parliament has been dissolved in line wth the Constitution only once, in 2010 (in 1934 it was dissolved unconstitutionally following a coup by Prime Minister Kārlis Ulmanis). The actual parliament building in Old Rīga was, however, attacked in January 2009 during a very rare violent protest which precipitated the fall of Ivars Godmanis' cabinet. The documentary zips back and forth in time giving portraits of various different people and political forces pushing the idea to "Atlaist Saeimu" for different reasons.

They're called water carriers, domestics, 'gregarios', 'Sancho Panzas' of professional cycling. Always at the back of the group, with no right for a personal victory. These wonderful losers are the true warriors of professional cycling.

They prepare the resting place for us all. They do their work by standing by the side of people when they are in grief, and are the last hands to touch the grave towel that lowers the deceased a meter and a half below the ground. Alongside other ancient professions, gravediggers have inherited knowledge and skills through several generations - not only in digging holes, but also in Latvia's rich cemetery culture, where everything has its own order. Latvia's cemeteries are where traditions from different centuries meet, and every gravedigger needs to know them so that he or she can continue to receive the stamps for the job of digging graves. The most experienced of them have already received 5 000 such stamps, which is equivalent to the population of one town in Latvia.

Inta is a brusque, crusty woman who lives alone on the edge of a picturesque marsh. One day her solitude is intruded upon by the arrival of a documentary filmmaker. In his eyes Inta is an outstanding would-be film protagonist but the wild woman would rather put a curse on the importunate intruder than let herself be filmed. But the filmmaker's persistence finally succeeds in melting the ice of Inta's heart... just in order to break it soon afterwards.

A group of children from the capital city of Riga arrive in the small border village of Ipiķi. The townsfolk immediately know that "they aren’t locals, they’re from the capital. You can tell by the way they dress.” The differences between the city and rural children are quite evident. While the country children nimbly climb trees, play games with knives and axes, and hide in their self-made tree house, the city children buy sweets in the town store, hoping to buy the goodwill of the local children. However, gaining entry into the tree house is not so simple.

During Latvia’s centennial year, 15 filmmakers created each his own film portrait of a person living in Latvia on the background of centenary events. Documentary 2018 combines these stories into a unique poetic vision based on analogy with the documentary 235 000 000, a classic of the Riga school of poetic documentary cinema. This film is an attempt to make sure whether the codes of the poetic cinema are still relevant and accessible today.

The world is being ravaged by the Covid-19 pandemic and a state of emergency has been declared in Latvia. Street musician Normunds tries to fight the pandemic's caused depression by playing his cello in Old Riga.

The film focuses on a bizarre state of affairs in the northern city of Valmiera where the corpse of a man has lain for nine years because of complex and contradictory communications between the relatives and various responsible institutions. The situation could easily have come from the pen of Gogol or Kafka, but is all too real and prompts questions about the more general problem of bureaucracy in Latvia.

Latvian children born in Ireland are a part of the nation that dreams in English, and marks a peculiar page of recent Latvian history. Although cannot be distinguished in Ireland from English speakers, they are "on you" in Latvian.

Latvians think through mud and view the world through a “muddy” filter. Where does the mud come from, and why does it invariably remain: in this country, this language, and in our souls? Mud doesn’t just appear from tears falling upon dry earth. Mud also comes from spillover, done out of joy. And the mud itself creates happiness and inspiration for new mud.

The film begins with closing of the oldest prison in Latvia – the Brasa Prison was built in 1905 and cannot ensure normal functioning. Inmates are leaving the place that has long been their only home. Our protagonists reside in Ward 207. They have really inhabited it – there is even a fish tank in the ward! They are not from a different planet. Humanity of the inmates may contrast with their records of committed crimes. All have their small pleasures and big plans. All are longing for changes and being afraid of them. Likewise, the term of imprisonment is running out for several of our protagonists. They are getting ready for life at large. They know how to survive in extreme circumstances but are unprepared for living a normal life. One’s return to the big world is one of the most accentuated marginal situations.

Sigurds operates a hundred-year-old lift in a large hospital in Riga, absorbing the sounds of daily hospital life while between floors. Meanwhile, in the adjacent shaft, a new, automatic lift is being installed.

Documentarian Ivars Zviedris began filming Faithful unto Death after meeting a woman who unknowingly carried a surgeon's tool in her abdomen for 27 years, following an appendectomy. This discovery led Zviedris to explore the resilience of pensioners in rural areas, who survive by forming cooperative living arrangements, sharing a single household. These arrangements, driven by financial necessity, reveal the struggles of individuals who must live together despite fractured relationships, pooling their pensions to cover basic expenses. Central to the story is Mara, a woman with a tragic history of lost husbands, who remained with her last partner, Ivars, for 24 years, bound by their mutual need to survive.

A documentary about the almost mythical "Latvian gold" - where it comes from and what's being done with it.

It’s discovered by chance that legendary Finnish film director Teuvo Tulio came from a remote village in Latvia near the Russian border. During his childhood he was known by the Russian nickname, Fedya. The local authorities immediately place a memorial stone in his honour, but the local peasants are confused and even angry about the unwanted publicity and guests. They have neither heard of Teuvo Tulio, nor seen his films...