Thaiddhi

Out of work and forced to marry a man she dislikes, young San Kyi plans to run away with her best friend, but complications unfold.

Yangon, 1998. A boy and his mother are waiting for the return of the father, a civil servant, to move out another town at Upper Burma. On the last evening the boy tries to understand the complexities of relationships.

In industrial Yangon, young factory worker San Kyi dreams of returning to her native village. Her relationship with co-worker Theint Theint Oo evolves from closeness to growing distance, revealing tensions between their expectations and life prospects. Amid exhausting labour, social repression, and economic uncertainty, both women seek escape and intimacy.

Ten Years Myanmar, an omnibus film depicting a dystopian future 10 years later, tells five stories by five directors.

Wai Bhone, a young film director, has to overcome the tough realities in order to direct his debut film. The hard worked scenario is criticised and undermined by the unpretentious censorship of the authorities. The film producers constantly pressure for lack of money, and even casting actors to the unfamous director is not an easy task. With the help of friends and relatives, the hardly prepared film production begins at last. However, an accident occurs in which an expensive camera is dropped. To fix the broken camera and to escape the difficult life, he even thinks of robbing the bank and he starts to plan.

Oak Soe is a bit-part actor in the Myanmar film industry who dreams of landing a lead role. Struggling to get by with little money, he is at pains to accept that his girlfriend Honey, is sleeping with a rich older man for money. They both think they are in love and can accept each other for who they are, but the line between acting and reality is becoming increasingly blurred.

The painter Rahula lives a modest but contended existence with his family in Mingun, a village on the banks of the Ayeyarwaddy 11 km upriver from Mandalay. As a new work takes shape on a canvas in his studio next door to the towering base of Mingun's famously brick pagoda, we learn how this easy-going artist has managed to survive a sizable chunk of Myanmar's chequered history. Sawing the air with a cheroot, the jovial Rahula also reveals how he acquired his unusual name, his now successful abstract style, and his supportive wife, of whom he admits: 'If it weren't for her, I would still be painting pictures of monks and pagodas for the tourists.'