At Full Throttle

Franta and Ondra, eternal children and inseparable twins, live in a quietly magical world with their beloved animals. They share every moment, every thought, every routine. Outwardly they appear identical, yet inside they are two entirely different souls. Over time, their closeness begins to suffocate. Franta yearns for freedom, for flight, for life beyond the walls they share. Ondra remains rooted, content in the familiar, closed to change. Their bond begins to fray. Can they ever truly separate? How do you escape a world that wears your face? In the end, will love endure or will only death set them apart?

The film gives a complex insight into the gap in political reality of Slovakia - one of the EU countries - which became visible after an investigative journalists Ján Kuciak and his fiancée has been brutally murdered at their home. Following mass demonstrations led to substantial changes in the country's government, but the film doesn't follow history, but much more the universal processes behind the curtain. Journalists, (ex?)-officers of secret services, lawyers and analysts helps to reveal detective story in search of whom ordered to murder a journalist and an innocent girl. But main concern of the film is to reflect mechanisms of oligarchy and mafias (including the Italian) to blackmail key players of the system, to influence public perception and to penetrate police, judiciary and the government in their efforts to rule the country in the ways leading to their profits.

In the past ten years, the Slovak citizens’ trust in justice has fallen sharply. Thanks to the access to Threema messages of Marian Kočner, a businessman under investigation in relation to the murder of the journalist Ján Kuciak and his fiancée Martina Kušnírová, a vast corruption network within state administration and the justice system has been revealed. Disintegrating the merciless machinery including corrupt judges, rich and influential businessmen, mafia, politicians, and innocent citizens alike, is all but an easy task. Reflecting on the long-term crisis of the Slovak justice system, Zuzana Piussi’s investigative documentary asks whether the justice system with its many failures can ever be corrected.

For 25 years, Richard Müller has been a key figure in the Czech and Slovak music industry. Despite quitting music once, he returned to the stage while battling untreated manic depression and drug use. The documentary offers an intimate look at his artistic journey and personal struggles, amidst constant fan and tabloid attention. Filmed over three years with over 200 hours of footage, it includes home videos shot by Müller. It follows the tradition of Czech artistic documentaries like Amy and Nick Cave: 20,000 Days on Earth, exploring themes of inspiration and loneliness.

The film is a story of a mother and her son Lubos who lives in a world turned upside-down, or, arsy-versy. Lubos broke free from the world as generally conceived by others to arrive at the supreme human-nature symbiosis; he flew away to a planet purely inhabited by butterflies - intelligent beings. The sole focus of his life energy, enriched by a great deal of empathy, is being channelled into his amateur photography and film making, the climax of his fascination with natural phenomenon being his unique study of bats. By way of communicating with the upside-down creatures he is fascinated with, he attempts to achieve the utmost understanding between man and beast. He is assisted by his mother who has been a great research and life.

The forest is cultivated with a saw. At least that’s still what forestry schools teach. But what does a healthy forest actually need? Foresters and hunters see the forest as an agricultural commodity and nature as something that must be constantly regulated and managed. On the other side stand conservationists – advocates of non-intervention, who believe the forest can take care of itself without us. Where does private ownership stand in this conflict? And is a human’s right to use natural resources in their surroundings superior to the bear’s right to do the same? Slovak forests have become a battleground – but also a proxy issue of a social conflict that runs much deeper than it first appears.