We've Got to Frame It! (A Conversation with Jiří Bartoška in July 2021)

A man who deals with parcels at an airport cargo company finds that he likes planes more than people.

A train dispatcher encounters a mute stranger who appears out of nowhere, and finds himself mysteriously involved with a murder in Poland. The end of the eighties in the twentieth century. Alois Nebel works as a dis­patcher at the small railway station in Bílý Potok, a remote village on the Czech–Polish border. He's a loner, who prefers old timetables to people, and he finds the loneliness of the station tranquil – except when the fog rolls in. Then he hallucinates, sees trains from the last hundred years pass through the station. They bring ghosts and shadows from the dark past of Central Eu­rope. Alois can’t get rid of these nightmares and eventually ends up in sanatorium. In the sanatorium, he gets to know The Mute, a man carrying an old photograph who was arrested by the police after crossing the border. No one knows why he came to Bílý Potok or who he’s looking for, but it is his past that propels Alois on his journey…

Documentary maker Jan Holman follows the ultrafamous singer/songwriter Jaromír Novahica during his tour with the band Cechomor. The combination is very succesful, but it draws a heavy toll on the band members and Jan Holman.

Ice hockey is a Czech national obsession, and the country's victory over Russia in the 1969 World Championships, the year following the Soviet invasion, is a celebrated moment in its history. In Marek Najbrt's black comedy, the heroic exploits take place only on a black and white tv screen as a group of representative misfits gather and watch the game in a desolate village on the Czech border. While consisting of recognisable types, Najbrt's bleak portrait reveals a world of alcoholism, debt, racism, bigotry, and infidelity that trails behind the dreams of nationalism and bears little resemblance to the fantasies of the new consumerism. A clever and multi-levelled film, it provides a sharp antidote to the reconciliatory charms of the conventional Czech comedy.

Do not look. Do not ask. Don't click. Fifteen-year-old Marty had his whole life ahead of him. But now he's dead. All he had left was a series of frosty videos he had shot shortly before his death. The grieving father puts together fragments of Marty's online life to reveal the circumstances of his tragic end. Inspired by real cyberbullying cases, the eight-part thriller #martyisdead won the main prize at the Serial Killer international festival. (MALL.TV)

Sir "P" a 90 year old gray parrot, formerly living with Edouard Daladier, the French prime minister responsible for signing the Munich Treaty, comes to Prague to give his "account" of the past events. But can he do it, being just a bird? In a series of weird events sir is kidnapped by a Czech journalist undergoing his midlife crisis. The guy has him publicly say some really controversial statements, causing a diplomatic scandal. At the end of the day it is the French who decide to assassinate their own national hero....And that's only the half of the story.

Johanka and Matyáš have an unusual home. The two live among the animals and plants of an enchanted botanical garden in the middle of the city, but this idyll is under threat. To the children’s horror, the mayor wants to build a theme park on the same spot. The Blue Tiger, an animal with magic powers, comes to their aid. Only he can protect the garden, but Johanka and Matyáš must now stop the mayor from capturing their newfound friend. MODRY TYGR is a colourful, atmospheric and imaginatively told animated fairytale that inspires the viewer to reflect on natural resources and habitats.

Anna is a controversial influencer and best known for her provocative online content, but suddenly she goes silent on her social media profiles and mysteriously stops posting any updates. When 15-year-old Nina finds a half-naked photo of Anna on her dad's phone, she decides to track down the missing influencer.

A Czech journalist joins a Prague radio station what broadcasts Nazi propaganda in order to protect his Jewish wife. However, as the Nazi rule over Czechoslovakia calls for more and more collaboration, his relationship with his wife spirals downward.

Documentary.In its catalogue, a Czech travel agency offers a "journey into the unknown", a tour of North Korea. That spring was the second time since 1990 that a group of Czech tourists set foot in the DPRK. The film follows twenty-seven Czechs who have decided to spend approximately 2,600 Euros on a sightseeing tour of a country which cultivates a cult of personality, maintains concentration camps for its citizens and doesn't hide its development of nuclear weapons. Foreign visitors are only allowed a view of a carefully prepared illusion, thoroughly supervised by "guides". What is more, the North Korean system is starkly reminiscent of our own past. Which emotions do our travellers experience: sympathy, nostalgia or, in contrast, happiness that "we already have this behind us"? How does a Czech person, after being accustomed to eighteen years of freedom and democracy, come to terms with the directives and restrictions of a totalitarian system?

“The fact that I’m playing myself doesn’t mean that it’s me.” Four old schoolmates, today well-known Czech actors (Pavel Liška, Tomáš Matonoha, Josef Polášek and Marek Daniel), decide to make a movie together. Their ambitious colleague Jan Budař takes up directing duties and financing has arrived from Poland. What started out pleasantly enough, however, soon goes awry. Liška’s pronunciation difficulties, Daniel’s alter ego Havlát, and Matonoha’s financial machinations turn the shoot into a fight for survival. More than just a film about friendship and the absurdity of actors’ lives, director Marek Najbrt gives us a witty meditation on reality and illusion, and a unique take on the reality film genre. One of Pavel Liška’s on-set comments (“I didn’t know if I should act as if I were acting, or act as if I weren’t acting, or just not act at all”) illustrates the provocative nature of Najbrt’s subversive, quasi-documentary game.