White Snail

Laika, a stray dog, was the first living being to be sent into space and thus to a certain death. A legend says that she returned to Earth as a ghost and still roams the streets of Moscow alongside her free-drifting descendants. While shooting this film, the directors little by little realised that they knew the street dogs only as part of our human world; they have never looked at humans as a part of the dogs’ world.

A finely-woven tapestry, unifying things that are incommensurate. What is it about? Something that we all know, but which resonates differently with each of us, that cannot be put into words. You could call it our inner hum.

The hopelessly romantic Lisa takes desperate measures to win her former lover back, Alf. But the fact that Alf already has a new girl at his side and that Lisa needs to bring her alcoholic father to an antivaricose-campaign photo shooting without letting him know, is not particularly helping.

A pack of strays – seven dogs and one woman live in the shadows of Moscow. Hidden from the totalitarian authorities, two species share their existence on the verge of disappearance. They are straying in constant restlessness through a savage landscape where the city is cracking. Shot from the animal’s point of view, patterns of mutual dependence and taming begin to blur.

What happens to the feelings of two people when they are poured into the official form of a marriage? Love can suffocate under the pressure of this contract or blossom into an unexpected, deep bond when confronted with eternity. Why do two people promise each other? Levin Peter and Elsa Kremser, not only two filmmakers but also a young couple, search for answers to these questions. Driven by a very personal story, the film interweaves very different couples and concepts of marriage.