Ágnes Máhr

The heart-wrenching story of The Citizen begins with a citizenship exam, where the examination committee rigorously questions a middle-aged African man. No matter how beautifully he recites Hungarian poetry, Wilson, a political refugee in his late fifties, fails the exams for the umpteenth time, because he doesn’t know where the periodical ‘Magyar Közlöny’ got its name from, and what the Corvinae are. Moreover, inspired by Vörösmarty’s poem, the committee chairman even questions his reasons for leaving his mother country. Wilson argues that his reasons include his fellow citizens cutting pregnant women in half, yet he doesn’t manage to soften the heart of the committee members.

A young female interpreter meets her former great love, who now lives abroad and is married, yet she is completely convinced that there is still a chance for a fresh start.

Russians, westerns and Hungarians live unique moments in post-89 Hungary.

A generous and stubborn elderly boxing coach gets along with everyone except his own son. They're reunited after the death of the old man's wife and forced to face old grievances.

As a result of a medical drug experiment, Misi will be able to travel through time, but only if he drinks from a special homemade spirit.

No equal signs of justice can be drawn between those who are accused of a crime, those who are convicted of a crime and those who are the true offenders. That triangle always contains the accused who are not guilty and true offenders whose guilt cannot be ultimately proven. Throughout history, one of the greatest deviations in the strive towards equality has occurred in the triangle of guilt in sexual crimes, where guilt is largely proven on the basis of a woman’s will.

The mother loves her daughter; the daughter loves her mother. The tragedy of misunderstood love. The adaptation of Magda Szabó's novel translated into twelve languages.