Things Are Not as They Appear

Part home movie, part road movie, Kötting's riveting and eccentric film stars his 85-year-old grandmother Gladys - opinionated, bursting with anecdotes and contradictory reminiscences – and Eden, his eight-year-old daughter with Joubert syndrome, as they take a zig-zagging 6,000 mile trip in their campervan around Britain's coastline.

The last day of creation. A stranger arrives in London. No one knows who he is or where he has come from. By the time he leaves, the entire universe will have been erased.

In 1972 a family are on their way for a holiday in Essex. The parents argue and the son swears, making obscene gestures. So the father throws him out, drives on and crashes the car. The grandmother flags down a car with three men in it. Too late she recognises one as the man who shot a neighbour...

"A post punk piece of pagan sensibility, complete with beastiality buggery and boundless energy. Maniacal filmmaking at its best. He takes his horse with him everywhere." Andrew Kötting

From London to the far reaches of Scotland, the journey in the form of a quest for a whalebone box, related to its place of origin.

Andrew Kötting's film retraces John Clare's journey from Epping Forest to Northamptonshire accompanied by a straw bear.

A documentary examining the causes and effects of Joubert syndrome – a rare hereditary brain disorder, which affects both the motor and intellectual development of its sufferers.

In the Wake of a Deadad is Kötting's powerful, often uncomfortable reflection on the recent death of his father. His Deadad.

IVUL is the extraordinary story of Alex (Jacob Auzanneau), a young man who climbs on to the roof of his house and refuses to ever come back down to earth. His actions devastate his beloved family and we watch as their world falls apart. A dark and mysterious gardener (Tchili from This Filthy Earth) keeps watch over the family but is powerless to exorcise the curse that he feels has befallen them. Meanwhile the twin sisters (Manon and Capucine) provide light but sometimes macabre relief. The world of IVUL is a world of both fairytale and nightmare with the family manor house and forest landscape providing a compelling backdrop to the story.

Director Andrew Kötting and writer Iain Sinclair sail a swan-shaped pedalo from Hastings to Hackney in London in the build-up to the 2012 Olympic Games.

The tragic story of two sisters whose lives are disrupted by two men. Amidst a landscape of rural hardship and a community consumed with superstition, events unfurl which threaten their sibling bond.

Shot on the Island of Jura and in and around the French Pyrenees. The film is a foray into the notions of performance-travelogue-essay, it meanders hither and dither through the landscape. A DAT recorder catches fragments of the great out-of-doors which then becomes back drop to Heilco Van der Ploeug’s beautiful rendition of the folk song: ‘I wish I was a little birdy’.

Beginning in the pitch-black early hours of a September morning, the film follows a 14hr 17min cross-channel relay swim that I made along with my brothers Mark and Joey, a friend Ian Dale, the actor and comedian Sean Lock (Smart Alek and co-writer of This Filthy Earth) and the actor Tchili (This Filthy Earth and Ivul). The attempt was witnessed by the writer and wordsmith Iain Sinclair and is narrated by Eden Kötting. The film came about in 2006 (the 10 year anniversary since the release of the original film Gallivant) and the chance discovery of a boat called The Gallivant, which offered to shadow us across the Channel as a support vessel. Flotsam and jetsam in the form of conversations, field recordings and the voices of Gladys and Eden from the original film invade. The film shows scenes of explicit vomiting.

Shot in Nunhead Cemetery, South East London with Heilco Van der Ploeug and Leila McMillan. Designed to run as a super 8 projection for the performances that we were making in and around London as BEING KARNAL. Music BEING KARNAL (Heilco Van der Ploeug and Andrew Kotting)

Part home-movie, part diary, evoking the disembodied voices of the hoi polloi, manifest as an animistic presence within the landscape.

A sad tale that waxes lyrical, replete with the diabolical bastardisation of various Greek myths.