The Moroccan Tea

A photographer becomes his own subject after he meets a mysterious figure. He is seduced by this animal-like creature, but as his desire grows, so does his fear. Exhilarating music and provocative movements slowly guide us into a nightmare in which the character eventually loses control over his own body.

"Listen to the grass grow" is a short abstract personal memory; sometimes too emotional, sometimes too illogical. But that’s the way our thoughts are floating in the space of our consciousness. This is the story of Maria. We are observing her at the beginning of her ‘new life’ in a new and unknown place. An unfamiliar house, she has no memories here, not yet. Her past belongs to other spaces, far away from here. She’s exploring this new place with her body, in order to awaken its physical memory and to reach an inner authentic movement. Maria is trying to feel this place; her body is trying to feel this space; her movements, driven by old memories, are filling the void.

Covid-19 has made it even harder to be perfect than it already was. Here is a film that shows us how to do it. A remake of Jørgen Leth’s film from 1967, which, with a gracefully choreographed body language, places itself between dance and performance - with social distancing and masks, of course. However, the perfectionism of the black-and-white aesthetics is just as uncompromising in Maia Sørensen and Kristina Daurova’s update, which with understated humour takes a look at what it takes to be a human being (perfect or not) during a pandemic, from private dinner parties to the public space.