Good Old Czechs

A time-lapse documentary about Zuzana Čaputová's tenure as President follows her political work, personal dilemmas and the difficult challenges facing Slovak society.

Artistic endeavour isn’t about competing; even so, applicants still have to be placed in order of merit at the academy’s entrance exams. But how do you assess artistic talent? And what role can art play in today’s world? A layered, observational documentary which presents a portrait of an institution and a light generational statement in one.

A team of Romany football players try to overcome prejudice in this Czech documentary.

Father and son Vít and Grisha travel to Russia to visit the boy’s mother and sister. Why did their previously harmonious family split in two? A documentary road movie about the distance between two Slavic countries, the difficulties of fatherhood and puberty, and the alienation between people who should, in theory, be the closest of all.

Overwhelmed by motherhood, Ester steals a caravan and flees to southern Italy with her son David, with an intellectual disability. They meet a young drifter whose open heart transforms their makeshift family into something freer, lighter, and full of unexpected hope.

When the junior ice hockey team from the small town of Náchod, in the Czech Republic, sets off in a bus to Morocco to play the away game in an exchange programme, the players and their coach expect an easy victory and a cultural shock: “bring ear plugs”, the coach suggests them with a touch of undisguised condescendence, so as not to hear the call to prayer early in the morning. Both on and off the ice, Rozálie Kohoutová and Tomáš Bojar’s camera focuses on a few teenagers and their exchanges, simultaneously funny and cruel, in a clumsy English.

First documentary about the Czech hip hop scene shows how close the Czech rap can come to humour and irony. Three protagonists of the film, James Cole, Hugo Toxxx and Orion appear in situations where they are confronted with a professor of linguistics, children of a Romany quarter, a strict birth registry clerk, classical music trio, a statute of national revival hero Josef Jungmann, and the chanson singer Hana Hegerova, with whom they have a chance to sing the national anthem: "mimino mi mele nohu máma mele maso a máma mele sele kde domov můj?"

Luisa and Erika are prototypes of young women who plunge into relationships with the "wrong" men. Luisa wants to become an actress, which upsets her husband Igor to no end. Erika is trying to work as much as possible so that she can afford to study and thereby achieve a better outlook on life, but she unfortunately runs up against a boss who doesn't have the best intentions with her. Ultimately Luisa's husband demonstratively commits suicide. Erika accidentally kills her boss in self-defense... The women blame themselves for all these failures, and that has got to change. Both have to grow up and start living again. Perhaps even together.

A carefully composed observation of two newsrooms which, in March 2017, were avidly chasing after information about the Czech president’s decision whether or not to run for re-election. Two teams of reporters, one extraordinary event, and two takes on one "objective" piece of news.

Pavel Abrahám’s football documentary offers 22 different viewpoints of who is watching. At a match between Sparta and Slavia, the filmmakers used 22 cameras to film the spontaneous reactions of various visitors, fans, tourists, VIPs, intellectuals, and security guards over the course of the entire game. This experiment with the Czech Republic’s national sport shows football as a game around which the viewers create a whole range of other, highly diverse games.

The film takes place on the eighth day of Russia's war campaign in Ukraine. Eight Ukrainians residing in the Czech Republic – a businesswoman, cleaning ladies, construction workers, and bus drivers – make their own diary-like observations of the events in their homeland. They continue to bury themselves in their work, unable to afford to withdraw themselves from their current lives. In their minds, however, they've transported themselves hundreds of kilometers away, helping their fellow countrymen and women by any means necessary. They provide accommodation for refugees, scout for bulletproof vests, and call their loved ones who’ve taken shelter from falling bombs. They have a hectic and emotionally overwhelming 24 hours ahead of them. But it’s not the first 24 hours and it won’t be the last.

Two new flatmates are not even looking for an exit from the lockdown - which becomes more of a backdrop outside the windows of a one-bedroom Prague apartment. Shot on an ever present handheld camera, the reality of the (non)passing time of the pandemic slowly reveals itself. As the protagonists mutually confess and unmask each other over past unfulfilled relationships, we witness how they naturally complement one another in the household. The look inward, at ordinary events, gradually transforms the apartment into an autonomous world of imagination and song. The film thus serves as a manifesto of creation as an escape from an otherwise closed-up world. With giddy exaggeration, the emerging friendship opens up more general questions of the human need for social interaction and sharing life.