On Rubik's Road

Little Anna is waiting for her first Christmas.

This documentary follows a bustrip from Tallinn to Kaliningrad. A route that was so common in the Soviet times now passes through 4 different countries and crosses 3 different borders.

The oak tree in Seja is roughly 700 years old. Around this monumental tree, the peaceful and repetitive life goes on in the village, a group of houses in the middle of the forest. It is an almost unworldly existence in a condition of absolute simplicity where people are grateful for a hot cup of coffee and a good potato harvest.

A film about everything changing while remaining the same. Or rather – everything remaining the same while changing. We observed this (and wanted to share) while standing (standing regularly and for a long time) on a road rather close to the Eastern border of Latvia, because we followed the suggestion of the locals who asked to shoot “that horrible road”.

A film about the daily life of Martin, a handicapped child who will always be dependent on his parents. Ever since he was very small, Martin has had to get around in a wheelchair and has needed the constant help of an adult. Martin’s parents, Inga and Andris Skesteri, tell about their life, about their son’s character and about their hopes for the future.

Every day, come rain or shine, Theodore used to bike the seven kilometres from his house to the centre of the village to sit and drink beer in the bus stop. For him, no doubt, this place was the centre of the Universe. With his death, the centre has moved elsewhere, and the bus stop is just a bus stop again.

The First Bridge is a film about frontiers, barriers, the ways to cross over and see what goes on, on the other side. But it also a film about time, as it was shot on Kodak Negative Films acquired in the year 1997 and discovered intact in 2018.

The ferry crosses the river, transporting people from one shore to the other, from one country to another. It runs year round, never stopping. The footage was filmed on the Latvian-Belarussian border in the early 1990s - a time when the Soviet Union began to crumble and Latvia regained its independence.

Santa Claus lives on the fourth floor of an apartment block. Santa owns seven dogs, six cats, two rabbits, one crow, one pigeon, one chinchilla, one guinea pig, ten degus and some fish.

Twenty-five films from twenty-five European countries by twenty-five European directors.

The late 1950s. Every night, Soviet tractors comb the coast of Latvia looking for signs of anyone who could have infiltrated the Soviet border from the sea. One morning, three Soviet patrolmen discover a woman’s shoe in the sand and footsteps leading to the quaint little village of Liepaja.

The camera stands in a house, the lens pointing through the window, outdoors, where the occupants of the home are standing. They respond patiently to the camera operator’s directions: a small step to the left, a little bit forward, no, back just a bit, yes, that’s perfect. Dozens of people pose in this way for a full minute. There’s a man who lives alone, a large family, an older woman on a trampoline. Some are entirely at ease, others more self-conscious. Rabbits, dogs, and cats are allowed to join these portraits, too. All of them are captured within the natural frame of the windows, along with the lace or floral curtains.

Three elderly country bachelors idle away their time amidst semi-wild nature, closer to birds and pond fish than to humans.

A film about a plastic spoon and a society that has reached a high level of development – oil is being retrieved from subterranean depths, transported to processing plants, turned into plastic, transported to another plant, where it acquires the shape of a spoon, transported to convenience stores, where we buy it, and is then soon tossed into the trash. In other words, this is a film about the efforts put into making a spoon that can be thrown away so effortlessly.

Those of us who fly in airplanes probably don’t think about those who fly through Riga Airport on their own wings. But on any given day, up to 30,000 birds might visit the airport. And it would only take one… Airport wildlife control employee Mareks would like to go to church and light a candle for luck before he goes to work every day. In fact, all of us need that luck – it’s just that we’re not aware of it. Maybe that’s a good thing. Understanding wildlife that might turn up at the airport and making sure that the paths of birds, animals and airplanes don’t cross is a very real job.

Just like ordinary people, whole nations often wonder why their neighbors are living better than they are. For example, where did the Estonians living on Mohni Island suddenly get bicycles and sewing machines? Could the answer have some connection with the Latvian cargo ship "Rasma", which sank near Mohni in 1941?