Tag Archives: Documentary

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KinderDocs Industry Event – spotlight on Young audiences – Marije Veenstra, Head of Education at IDFAKinderDocs Industry Event

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This is the documentation of KinderDocs’ first Industry Event, titled ‘Documentaries for children and young people: International Approaches and Perspectives'. With its primary goal of illuminating effective strategies and creative approaches for engaging the coveted young audience, KinderDocs and its founder Dimitra Kouzi joint forces and invited acclaimed film professionals and representatives from prestigious festivals in the Netherlands (IDFA) and Germany (doxs Ruhr). Each presentation offered valuable insights into this multifaceted subject, encompassing filmmaking, content, programming, production, distribution, financing, and partnerships. The event took place in October 2023 at the Goethe-Institut Athen, and the Benaki Museum as part of the 8th KinderDocs International Documentary Festival for Children and Young People.

Marije Veenstra | Head of Education, International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam (IDFA) (additionally watch her interview here)

Thank you for inviting me, Dimitra. I'm Marije Veenstra, the Head of Education at IDFA, which stands for International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam. Today, I'll be discussing our approach to and perception of documentaries, particularly focusing on youth documentaries.

First, I would like to provide you with an overview of what we do at IDFA in this regard. In the Netherlands, we produce approximately 20 youth documentaries annually, funded through a pyramid scheme involving broadcasters and producers. Each Sunday evening, there's a dedicated slot on television where a youth documentary is broadcasted by the public broadcaster. Additionally, we have two major festivals for youth documentaries: CineKids and IDFA. As a new development in the Netherlands, we've also put out a call for full-length documentary films, in which Martijn Blekendaal is working as well.

At IDFA, we hold a competition specifically for youth documentaries. This year, aiming to give the youth competition a little bit of a boost, we invited Niki Padidar to be an external programmer. As a filmmaker, Niki brings a truly interesting perspective on youth and documentaries, and I'm very proud of the selection she curated. Among our initiatives are the IDFA-Junior, a family day held during the festival, and the school program, which falls under my responsibility. We also offer training programs for documentary development throughout the year, and we host a forum dedicated to youth documentaries during IDFA.

Our school program reaches approximately 10,000 students who attend IDFA over ten days. We start from 8 years old students and target all educational levels, collaborating closely with numerous theaters across the country. Film selection for the school program involves teachers and students, as we conduct test screenings at schools to get feedback before finalizing our lineup. Furthermore, we complement screenings with educational materials and post-viewing discussions. Additionally, we've launched Doc School Online, a free online tool designed for schools to utilize documentaries in the classroom. We recognize that some students may lack access to theaters or the resources to visit cinemas. The platform offers filters for various topics such as history, climate change, and justice, along with educational material for teachers.

Moreover, we organize activities for professionals, including training and pitching sessions during the forum. So, our focus isn't solely on showcasing documentaries; we also prioritize nurturing the development of youth documentaries, aiming to elevate the genre each year.

Now, what exactly do we mean by a youth documentary? We believe that one of the foremost criteria is that these films are made for children but not exclusively about them. The documentaries we showcase should leave room for imagination and reflection, avoiding fixed endings or solutions to problems. Our aim is to take the genre seriously and select films that also take the audience seriously—that’s why we collaborated with Niki this year. By this, I mean that we are open to all kinds of topics for children; there is no topic we would not screen. However, it's important to be aware of the context and facilitate discussions afterward.

Why do we do all this? Primarily, to cultivate empathy which is a vital necessity in today’s world. To broaden children’s horizons, encourage them to travel mentally and discover new perspectives. Additionally, when it comes to documentaries, an exceptionally important goal is to excite the audience, while also considering the artistic challenge of introducing them to something entirely different.

Two years ago, while already working on education and making my film selections, I was thinking of my starting point and connected it with youth literature, a significant area with ongoing research. So, three key considerations guided my program selection. For children aged 8 and above, youth literature reflects an experimental stage. Thus, we don’t have documentaries for children that are younger, recognizing the expanding worldview of an eight-year-old as an intriguing starting point for a documentary film platform. As children reach 10, individual differences become more prominent, so we aim to challenge them a bit more with the selected films. By the time they're 12, children transition to a more personalized and contemplative perspective, making it a favorable moment to introduce a diverse range of films with varying artistic values. In general, the ability to reflect increases with age, allowing us to experiment and tailor our programming as a festival.

Given my educational background, when facing difficulties, I often turn to Vygotsky, a Russian psychologist from the first half of the 20th century. Vygotsky identified different zones of learning that are well-known in the Dutch educational system. In the yellow zone, people can actually learn something but it’s important to have some guidance or a conversation afterward to reflect on the film. When selecting documentaries for schools, we can focus a bit more on the blue zone, which may offer comfort and enjoyment, but not necessarily contribute to significant learning or offer new experiences. On the other hand, films in the red zone risk leaving audiences frustrated without appropriate context or discussion afterward. As a teacher it is beneficial to focus on the stretch of the yellow zone.

Sometimes, a film initially seems suited to the blue zone. It's comfortable, pleasant, and enjoyable, but why should we actually screen it? What does it have to offer? To truly engage and facilitate learning, we need to strive for the yellow zone, which requires the assistance of a teacher, some guidance or a post-viewing discussion to enable reflection on the film. It's possible to challenge audiences and seek films in the yellow zone, but it's crucial to ensure that screenings are followed by discussions for the experience to be more sustainable. Screening only red zone films without providing the right context or post-viewing conversations can lead to frustration among audiences, who may leave the cinema wondering what they actually saw and feeling like they didn't gain anything meaningful. So, this approach guides my selection process.

Let me share some examples with you. First up is "Our Island," which we initially screened for children aged 8 to 9. However, we later found it might have been quite simplistic for 10-year-olds. While it's a delightful film, many children might find it too gentle for their age group, thus staying in the blue zone. It's perfect for 8-year-olds but lacks the challenge for 10-year-olds.

The next film, “Tungrus” is quite different. When we screened it at IDFA, many children asked, 'Why are you showing this to me, actually?' They enjoyed it and laughed a lot, but they also felt a bit disconnected. Their reaction was, 'It's not about us.' So, this was a film that required a conversation afterward. We started asking who has a pet, what kind of pet they have, how they deal with it when it doesn't behave as expected, and what the possible solutions are. This led to a meaningful discussion, transforming a film that initially fell into the red zone into one that resonated in the yellow zone, making it meaningful for many kids to watch.

Another film I'd like to share was selected by Niki this year. Initially, when we presented “Figure” to adults, particularly a special group funding IDFA, there was skepticism. As an entry for the Youth Competition, they questioned whether it even qualified as a documentary. However, through meaningful dialogue, we saw that it's possible to transition from the red to the yellow zone again. Such conversations are necessary and important for this transition. Even though it might raise questions for some people, I believe perceptions can change when engaging in an interesting dialogue with children afterward.

It would also be beneficial to have both the filmmaker and the programmer responsible for the film present in the screening room, to facilitate a discussion related to questions such as, "Why do you think this is a documentary?” Why do you think it's not?" “Is it important to have a close distinction?” ‘’How flexible can it be?” Through such conversations, we can transition from the frustrating red zone to a more engaging yellow zone. As the Head of Education, it's essential to keep this in mind when developing programs or selecting films. Sometimes, we may step into the red zone, but it's crucial to ensure that we provide educational context so that the experience is meaningful for many children.

  

As mentioned, it's both interesting and important to diversify the selection. Just as teachers approach youth literature in class by ensuring that all children are provided with something interesting to read, the same principle applies when developing an educational film selection for a festival. It's about offering a variety of films—some may be challenging, while others are more easy-going. That's perfectly fine. However, as a teacher or as the head of education, make sure that you add something to the mix, so viewers can stretch their understanding, delve deeper, and learn from the experience. Also, it’s important to note that the more a child reads, the more their ability to reflect grows. This is particularly significant when considering youth documentaries as well; maintaining a consistent presence throughout the year is crucial, rather than just once or twice annually.

So, how do we effectively reach them? In the Netherlands, broadcasters and film promoters discuss strategies for marketing these films, likening it to selling broccoli or sprouts. The notion that “they just have to learn to eat it” is quite disheartening, in my opinion. Similarly, a Danish Film Institute’s report published in May, highlighted as one of its key findings that young audiences prefer edgy narratives, genre play, boundary exploration, over social realism and 'the all-too-nice'. This underscores the importance of not underestimating our audience; they are capable of handling more than we often credit them for.

Another interesting point I'd like to share is related to the promotion of the film “Shabu”. The film also had a theatrical release in the Netherlands. I had a conversation with the person responsible for its sales, discussing her approach to promotion. She mentioned creating a commercial for a public broadcaster where she didn’t explicitly label the film as a documentary; instead, she referred to it as a family film. It's not about a definitive right or wrong approach, but rather an alternative one that may be worth considering. Ultimately, what's more important than just determining whether we’re selling sprouts is how we’re presenting and marketing them to our audience.

I would also like to emphasize the importance of keeping in mind that every child attends school. Thus, in my view, the gateway to reaching children is through schools. While it's advantageous to target families and encourage their participation in festivals, as we do at IDFA, I firmly believe that genuine change occurs through engagement with schools and the educational system.

Furthermore, it’s important for films to align with educational projects, so they are on the same page as the educational fields, enabling their collaboration and intersection. Additionally, new media and different platforms present some challenges too. At IDFA, we're still exploring ways to integrate these technologies, as it can be quite complex. For instance, while we're keen on screening VR projects in schools, it's challenging due to the required materials.

Finding suitable venues and partners interested in youth, especially when focusing on individual experiences, is also intriguing. Dimitra Kouzi asked me about the types of subjects we encounter or search for. While we come across a great amount of stories about children facing social and emotional challenges, which are both important and educational, I believe it would be equally interesting to see more films about art or history. For instance, I am struggling to find a compelling film about the colonial history of the Netherlands, that strikes the right balance between educational value and engaging storytelling—this would be valuable for schools as they are always seeking such quality content. Therefore, I believe youth documentaries should broaden their scope beyond solely focusing on children having problems that we can or can’t solve.

Lastly, empowering stories are particularly significant to me. Given the numerous conflicts in today's world, children are increasingly aware of these issues. Therefore, exposing them to these kinds of stories would be immensely beneficial, inspiring, and hopeful.

The event took place with the support of the The Dutch Embassy in Athens

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Dad’s Lullaby, Lesia Diak interviewed by Dimitra Kouzi

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I met Lesia Diak at the Doku Rough Cut Boutique workshop in Cluj in 2023. A young filmmaker, she appeared serious and was an attentive listener. Now, a year later, her film is set to premiere at the Sarajevo Film Festival. I sense it will travel far; I'm confident she'll make it to the European Film Awards. An interview is an opportunity to discuss both publishable and unpublishable matters, to foster mutual understanding. Lesia was generous and trusting. While speaking with her, I felt transported to the intimate moments captured in her film—the honest atmosphere of a small apartment and the intensity of the editing room. Lesia said, 'I need to have eye contact with my protagonist,' even as she operated the camera. Feeling responsible for sharing her subjects' private moments, she decided to reciprocate by revealing aspects of her own life as well.

What inspired you to create ‘Dad’s Lullaby’?

I’m not quite sure that ‘inspiration’ is the best word to use when talking about the reasoning behind the creation of ‘Dad’s Lullaby.’ I was in pain observing my boyfriend during his short rotations, when he was serving in the Ukrainian army in the East of Ukraine in 2017. The pain tripled when he came back to a ‘peaceful reality,’ and we could not reach an understanding; there was such a void in our communication. My words, my silences, other people’s words – everything would trigger and upset him, and I was the closest to deal with his reaction. The easy way would have been to leave the relationship, but I didn’t want to leave; I loved him. I wanted to try to make a film about this issue and to try to understand it deeply.

How did the film address the complex issue of war-related trauma and its impact on family dynamics?

When I started developing the project, I tried to be very gentle and not ask questions that could hurt anyone’s feelings. I consulted with a psychologist on how to approach filming kids. I was witnessing the life of this family but at the same time I tried not to intervene in their lives. I would never bring a big crew into their tiny flat; I was filming by myself. I would only come on the days when they allowed me to come. The characters were living their lives. I think that the fact that we were sharing space, time, and loneliness brought us closer. At some point in the life of the Zinchuk family, I became a family friend. Of course, for documentary filmmaking, it is a tricky path. You start wondering whether you’re compromising your art because you want to be a good friend.

Poster designed by Dasha Podoltseva

How did you prepare yourself mentally and emotionally for the exposure and vulnerability?

For the final year of my work in the communication agency ‘One Health,’ I worked on the communication of a project dedicated to mental health in Ukraine. I learned that speaking out about your issues makes you feel stronger. In 2019, I wrote a column about my depression, and it was published.

I also felt that, from an ethical point of view, I would feel better if I exposed myself as the family was filmed in a very intimate way, and I feel responsible for giving away private moments from their personal life. And I decided to give away my private life, too.

There is nothing to lose. My country suffered so many losses. I believe it is the right thing to do – to expose myself so that other people feel engaged in the Ukrainian story. We are releasing ‘Dad’s Lullaby’ four years after I finished the filming. I am in a safer place because that phase of my life and that break-up is not my present.

How did being part of the film influence your creative decisions during the production process?

Initially, I was not planning to be part of the film. Most of my material was filmed in an observational style. But in documentaries, not everything goes as planned. Towards the very end of production, I changed my approach towards a participatory film; I believed I needed to open up to Serhiy, and I saw that in that moment of sorrow he wasn’t very comfortable being filmed. I gave the camera to him and said that he could film me instead, if this would make him feel more at ease.

How has this unique experience of being both director and participant influenced your growth as a filmmaker?

I would say it pushed me to grow as a person, which is obviously beneficial for filmmaking. At first, it was a challenge to see myself on the screen in an editing room. Probably because I had a wrong image of myself, maybe I thought that I was prettier and smarter in real life. It took me some time to realise that the fragility of a young woman without makeup or things to hide is a beauty in itself.

I wish I could step into 28-year-old Lesia’s shoes again. I believe that both watching and making films have a huge healing potential in the long run, but in the short-term perspective, we can’t expect that from a film. When I think of survivors from Mariupol and the long lines for mental health care in Ukraine nowadays, I know that watching a documentary will be no cure for them.

What emotions did you experience the first time the camera was pointed at you?

I wasn’t really noticing it. I wasn’t concerned with being filmed. Documentary filmmakers should be at peace with being exposed. It’s about exposing people, so you know at some point you need to be documented as well. It’s a natural process. I didn’t really think a lot about it. But I think it was a more difficult moment when I was holding the camera and I was thinking, okay, I need to have eye contact with Serhii when I’m speaking to him. And eye contact was important, yes. Because once he was about to cry and he needed to speak about something really painful, I would rather focus on him instead of holding the camera. And it was a bit awkward.

How did you overcome this?

As you see in the film, he’s not always in the centre of the picture. I would opt for eye contact.

What were some of the most significant challenges you faced while making this film?

When Serhiy separated from the family and moved out of their home, he was feeling very down and didn’t want to socialise. He didn’t pick up the phone for half a year. But I felt that I needed to give more space to his vulnerability, that I needed to portray him with empathy, not just end the film with him leaving. I would formulate the most significant challenge like this: How to approach someone who is in grief after being separated from his family? I needed to have that final conversation, and I just knocked on the door of Serhiy’s parents’ house, where he was living, and he opened.

The other challenge came when we were showing the material during the Docu Rough Cut Boutique sessions. It came out that there are some things which are obvious for Ukrainians and other cultures that were affected by military conflicts, but not so obvious for people who have never experienced war. It was a challenge to make the visual language and the dialogues work for all audiences. However, it is an impossible task to cater to everyone’s needs. Watching a film is a subjective experience.

How about the editing process?

It was quite a journey to find an editor for ‘Dad’s Lullaby.’ During the production phase, I was editing the scene selection with Semen Mozgovyi.

Upon completion of my studies at DocNomads, I already started working with Monica, and she suggested Andrei Gorgan as an editor. We reached understanding with Andrei quite soon. He is very talented and humble. For Andrei, editing is his main craft, and he is truly devoted to it.

I think that in Monica and Andrei I found my allies in including me as a character present both visually and sound-wise. We were on common ground finding this decision organic for the story. The challenge was how to edit these dialogues in order to preserve their authenticity. We stayed with the approach of focusing on the bits where Serhiy talks about his backstory from the war front, and when his understanding of love and relationships collides with mine. Through challenging me, he challenges himself, and we realise that all these questions he asks me, he has asked himself many times before.

In the editing room, it wasn’t easy to look at myself and notice some of the reactions – for example, the expression of anger and frustration. But I managed to come to terms with it. The film needed this female director to be expressive, and I needed the viewers to realise her bitterness. We used the material showing me with facial expressions that I found unpleasant at first glance. Andrei helped me a lot to develop a distance while looking at myself in the editing room.

What impact do you hope ‘Dad’s Lullaby’ has on the current discourse surrounding the war and its consequences?

There are four levels for the impact, if not more: the international, the national, the local community level, and the individual level.

I know that there will be no impact of the film on international politics and on the destiny of Ukraine as a whole. My film will neither stop the war nor motivate the countries which are constantly creating hindrances for the weapon supply to Ukraine to simplify their inner processes. In terms of the community level, the film screenings and the discussions that  follow could give viewers a sense of togetherness, belonging, and sharing the pain. Will the film bring the couples who have similar stories back together? No. But it can create a space for dialogue, or for dialogue between those struggling to maintain relationships. In terms of individuals, I believe that the film can help people to cope with guilt and sadness, to realise that there is an external force – the war – and one single individual can’t cope with it. I do hope that my film could lead people to realise they need to ask for help from the community or mental health professionals.

I remember that once, after pitching my film in Thessaloniki, I overheard two ladies saying about my project, ‘How come he is so mean with the kids?’ I didn’t want to jump into their conversation, or to ask them where they came from. It is kind of simplistic to label people with the word ‘mean,’ though it is an instinctive response. It is much harder to try to understand different behaviour.

Being also the film’s main producer, what challenges did you face in balancing this role with your responsibilities as director?

A director needs to nurture their imagination; it is constant, very intense work, and it requires time for your mind to stay focused, and then time to rest and reinvigorate the capacity for creativity. A director needs time for emptiness, to gaze on the landscape, listen to the silence.

The producer is a business strategist that makes rational decisions. The producer needs lots of energy to drive the project, passion to develop it, to interact with experts in the field, potential partners, to present the project. A director needs a sense of security. They need to understand that things will happen. And the producer gives this feeling of security to the director. That’s a healthy way to make films. But in my case, I worked hard to enhance the film creatively, while at the same time trying to find partners in order to respond to all the needs of the film. I often remember the lyrics from Sinéad O’Connor’s song ‘8 Reasons’:

You know, I love to make music
But my head got wrecked by the business

The good thing is that at some point I had Monica, Elena, and Hrvoje, who could take control over certain areas of the project. This was bliss. Monica has been working as a director and producer of creative documentaries for more than 20 years. She knows the hidden obstacles, and she advised me on how to navigate them.

How many hours of filming did you have?

I filmed 100 hours over three years. 

Have you ever stayed over at the family’s house?

I always returned to my own place, in Kyiv. I aimed to establish a boundary. Observing what was happening in their house was sometimes upsetting, especially involving the kids, when they shared nightmares or missed their parents’ attention, who were busy working. There were different reasons. When their daughter was born, I cried inside with happiness, but didn’t show my tears. It was a complex emotional experience, very therapeutic for me as a filmmaker.

When I was 16, my mom went to work abroad, and I stayed with my father, witnessing his pain and responding to it. For men in Ukraine, it’s not easy when the woman goes abroad to work. He felt abandoned, and it was challenging for my father to raise teenagers, me and my brother. He was struggling a lot. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why I have such deep empathy for male characters in my film – and for men in general, because I witnessed it so closely, and it really broke my heart. When I witnessed similar experiences in the Zinchuk family, for instance why they are not more understanding of each other after this long separation, how they need to learn from scratch how to live their lives together again, it reminded me of many cases of separation, not least the case of my own family.

Are there any upcoming projects you can share?

At the moment, I am working on a short documentary, or docu-fiction, based on my personal analogue archive. I used an old analogue camera I had from my father for years. I participated in a residency in Finland focused on analogue film. I worked in the dark room, developed my own films, working with my hands, and it helped me recover my love for cinema. I’m currently editing this film, which is a story about a female artist who sacrificed personal happiness for the sake of her work, and I need to step out of myself to make this film good. The working title is ‘My days Are Being chopped.’

Are films made by women different?

There is a female perspective in documentary filmmaking, and it’s linked to the limits we have, in comparison with men, limits that family bonds or having a child place on us. We really need to be focused and close with the baby, with the child, if we have a family. And we can’t film in some situations that are accessible to male directors. We can’t film in a super dangerous environment, unless we have very good training. There are cases where female directors went to dangerous places, and it didn’t go well. At the same time, being a woman opens up other possibilities.

Thank you, Lesia, for the very inspiring discussion.

The conversation has been edited and condensed.

MAIN CHARACTERS

Serhiy Zinchuk, Nadiia Zinchuk, Olexandr Zinchuk, Artem Zinchuk, Nikita Zinchuk, Marharyta Zinchuk, Lesia Diak

Serhiy

A 45-year-old war veteran who served in eastern Ukraine for three years, Serhiy was a war commander, responsible for his soldiers’ lives. He is a person of heart, with a sense of dark  army humour and pessimistic views on humanity. He works night shifts at the supermarket to support his family. He is a loving father but the war experience prevents him from fulfilling his dream of living a peaceful life with his family.

Nadiia

Serhiy's wife cared for their three sons while he served in the war. She is a very strong woman, a mother both strict and tender. Raising three boys made her extremely resilient. It's difficult for her to express her emotions and fragility. She doesn't work outside the home and mostly performs parental duties. She rarely has time for herself, or time alone. She gives everything she has to her children.

Sasha (11)

Eleven years old, Sasha is an introverted pre-teen who keeps his emotions to himself. He is going through adolescent insecurities and understands better than his brothers how much their father has changed. The tension between Serhiy and his oldest son, Sasha, grows throughout the film. The more Serhiy demands from Sasha, the more the boy rebels. By the end of the film, Sasha's behaviour will have changed, showing increased aggression towards his youngest brothers. Sasha also takes on more responsibility in caring for his newborn sister.

Artem (8)

Eight-year-old Artem is the most vulnerable child in the family. He is a very reflective boy. He cries and disagrees with his parents and brothers. Artem is fascinated by his father and his stories from the war; he learns war songs written by soldiers of the Russian-Ukrainian conflict. This son of Serhiy's has great empathy for his dad.

Nikita (3)

Three years old, Nikita is the youngest and sunniest child. He is the most open among all the children and the most cherished by his parents. He also becomes affected by his dad and the violence of his older brothers.

Marharyta

The newborn daughter, Marharyta – the only daughter among sons – brings hope to the family.

Lesia

A 29-year-old woman, the film director, is going through a break-up with a war veteran. She is making a film about Serhiy's family to understand the impact of war on love and family relationships.

Producers Lesia Diak (main Producer), Monica Lăzurean-Gorgan, Elena Martin, Co-Producer Hrvoje Osvadić

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Young audiences in the spotlight

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Through cinema and creative documentary – an inexhaustible genre – we get fascinating glimpses of the world in which we live, we take distance from what happens to us, and we connect with all that’s happening to others and concerns us.

Guided by this motto, the KinderDocs International Documentary Festival for Children and Young Audiences in Greece celebrated its eighth year, with a fascinating programme of award-winning, thought-provoking documentaries complemented by educational activities, exciting encounters with international guests, and in-depth discussions that push the boundaries. Over the course of seven days, from 16 through 22 October 2023, three different venues welcomed cinephiles, film professionals, and enthusiastic young people, all seeking to delve into the many different facets of reality offered by documentaries designed specifically for young audiences. From a diverse array of perspectives a shared agreement emerged: these films hold importance and relevance.

An exciting and vibrant festival week

This year’s edition of KinderDocs kicked off with a Special Screening centred around the theme In search of our place in the world. Part of our extensive tribute to Germany, the event was held on Tuesday 17 October at the Goethe-Institut Athen.

Premiering in Greece, the desktop documentary Dear Dad and the episodic observational documentary Either Way skillfully capture the diverse concerns and aspirations of today's young generation in Europe through very distinct formats. Coming from Germany, the four promising emerging filmmakers (Karoline Roessler, Eva Louisa Gemmer, Hannah Jandl, and Lea Tama Springer) engaged in a comprehensive discussion on identity politics and other explorations that arise on the cusp of contemporary adulthood. Friedrich Burschel, drawing from his extensive experience as the Director of the Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung Office in Greece, delved into the socio-political dimensions embedded in the films' themes. Moderated by the filmmaker Dimitra Kouzi, KinderDocs director, this enlightening discussion engaged the audience, providing an opportunity to draw parallels with the Greek context.

KinderDocs Industry Event

KinderDocs’ first Industry Event, titled ‘Documentaries for children and young people: International Approaches and Perspectives,’ explored strategies for engaging the coveted young audience on Thursday 19 October, hosted at the Goethe-Institut Athen. 

Acclaimed film professionals and representatives from prestigious festivals in the Netherlands, Germany, and Greece illuminated their approaches in how to make creative documentaries appeal to young viewers. Each presentation provided valuable insights into this multifaceted subject, encompassing filmmaking, content, programming, production, distribution, financing, and partnerships. Crucially, the ensuing discussion prompted insightful questions and generated fresh perspectives on current challenges and future possibilities. After eight years of working with young audiences, KinderDocs posed fundamental questions: 

What issues does documentary deal with? Are there other issues to highlight? What limitations must documentary overcome in order to mature as a film genre? What is the range of budgets in youth documentary production? Why are most documentaries for children shorts? How can you work interdisciplinarily with documentary films? What is the landscape in distribution and European co-productions in the Youth category?


IDFA, the first to feature documentaries for young people in its competition, entrusted this year's programming to award-winning director Niki Padidar (Ninnoc, All you See). She joined the KinderDocs industry event in Athens to present her vision for the future of the genre for the first time in public and posed the question on how we define a film for young people.


Marije Veenstra, IDFA's Head of Education, highlighted psychosocial approaches  and underscored the significance of diversifying genres and themes in a festival's educational programme; Having an enormous experience through her work at IDFA, she especially emphasised the importance of school screenings.

Gudrun Sommer, Director, DOXS RUHR Festival, underlined the genuine effort required at the European level in order to tell stories about specific situations experienced by young people through documentaries. This approach aims to gain a deeper understanding of their concerns, which go beyond mainstream topics and issues.
Drawing on the experience of organising KinderDocs for eight years now, and a decade of international collaborations in audience development for award-winning films such as La Chana, dir. Lucija Stojevic (IDFA Audience Award 2016), Communion, dir. Anna Zamecka, (EFA Best Documentary 2017), Radiograph of a Family, dir. Firouzeh Khosrovani (Best Feature-Length Documentary IDFA 2021) Apolonia, Apolonia, dir. Lea Glob, (EFA Awards 2023), Dimitra Kouzi a filmmaker herself works on, ‘How can we directors/producers/festivals/curators introduce creative documentaries to a wider audience, including  reaching out to young audiences, which are regarded as the most challenging to engage?
Sophia Exarchou, director of internationally acclaimed films Park and Animal, addressed the spreading conservatism in art, extending beyond youth documentaries; she discussed the implicit adjustments and moderations necessary when presenting a film. The spotlight should be on effective methods of educating the audience.
Directors Martijn Blekendaal (The Man Who Looked Beyond The Horizon) and Susanne Kim (Cabinets of Wonder) concluded with a profoundly important message that could only serve as a motivation for the industry: ‘We must take young people seriously’ – this involves not acting on behalf of them, but listening to their needs and engaging them, creating compelling stories.
Finally, director Martijn Blekendaal who starts his inspiring manifesto about youth documentaries sayig: ‘youth documentary has an image problem: it is the most underrated genre. documentary makers don’t take it seriously’ stated, ‘Almost any subject is suitable for a youth documentary; it's about how you tell the story.’ 

KinderDocs Festival Programme for Schools

Throughout the week, schools – both private and public – joined in the festival programme specifically curated for educational screenings at the Benaki Museum.

Elementary school children had the unique opportunity to meet the director Susanne Kim after the screening of her film Cabinets of Wonder. The school children that attended Sustainability: The Present Becomes the Future had an exciting hands-on experience inspired by one of the three short films they watched, Ramboy. The film explores the relationship between a grandson and his grandfather, a farmer in Ireland. The educational activity, titled The Wool Cycle: From Tradition to Today, was crafted in collaboration with The Pokari Project.

Meanwhile, secondary-education pupils attended a special screening of Aurora's Sunrise, a multi-awarded animation documentary recounting the story of a young girl who survived the Armenian genocide. Schoolchildren had a memorable Q&A with filmmaker Martijn Blekendaal (The Man Who Looked Beyond the Horizon), talking about personal fears and the limits we impose on ourselves to avoid the risk of failure. Pupils and teachers alike left the Benaki Museum enthused, inspired, and eager to continue exploring more educational material in the classroom.

The KinderDocs Festival wrapped up with the motto: EVERYBODY KinderDocs!

KinderDocs Family Weekend

The 2023 festival’s edition culminated in a vibrant weekend, inviting audiences of all ages to two days filled with back-to-back screenings at the Benaki Museum/Pireos 138. A total of 17 award-winning documentaries from 10 countries were screened in 8 thematic sections, tackling contemporary issues such as sustainable development, lesser-known aspects of world history, alternative youth pursuits, gender issues, human rights, juvenile delinquency, and the fragility of our digital selves. The films sparked compelling questions and stimulated lively discussions with guests from Greece and other countries, featuring international and Greek filmmakers (Martijn Blekendaal, Tine Kugler, Günther Kurth, Maria Sidiropoulou), historians (Serko Kougioumtzian), psychologists (Elena Koutsopoulou, Eva Spinou, Marilena Spyropoulou), and start-uppers (The Pokari Project). At the same time, participants immersed themselves in the imaginative world of youth in a unique VR experience linked to the film Cabinets of Wonder.


‘Standing in front of the camera was a form of psychotherapy for Kalle (the protagonist of the film Kalle Kosmonaut).’ Günther Kurth, Director/Producer
‘I was confronted with my own insights, because my film (The Man Who Looked Beyond the Horizon) is about being afraid and overcoming the fears that feed you. The end can also be seen as a beginning.’
Martijn Blekendaal, Director

8th KinderDocs Festival:
A genuine celebration for all creative-documentary enthusiasts,
offering a generous glimpse of what's yet to come!

Aurora’s Sunrise (97’), Inna Sahakyan, Armenia, 2022
Cabinets of Wonder (79’), Susanne Kim, Germany, 2020
Colors of Tobi (81’), Alexa Bakony, Hungary, 2021
Dear Dad (17’), Karoline Roessler, Germany, 2021
Either Way (45'), Eva Louisa Gemmer, Hannah Jandl, Lea Tama Springer, Germany, 2021
Herd (37’), Omer Daida, Israel, 2021
Ιnsight (20’), Emma Braun, Austria, 2022
Kalle Kosmonaut (99’), Tine Kugler, Günther Kurth, Germany, 2022
My Family is a Circus (16’), Nina Landau, Belgium, 2020
My Hair (3’), Max Jacoby, Luxembourg, 2021
One in a Million (84’), Joya Thome, Germany, 2022
Ramboy (31’), Matthias Joulaud, Lucien Roux, Switzerland, 2022
See you Tomorrow (20’), Kevin Biele, Germany, 2022
The Man who Looked Beyond the Horizon (26’), Martijn Blekendaal, Netherlands, 2019
The School by the Sea (29’), Solveig Melkeraaen, Norway, 2021
View (5’), Odveig Klyve, Norway, 2021
Water, Wind, Dust, Bread (25’), Mahdi Zamanpoor Kiasari, Iran, 2021    

Watch our interviews with KinderDocs 2023 guests:  

Either Way (So Oder So, Germany, 2021, 45ʹ): Interview with the Filmmakers
KALLE KOSMONAUT interview with the directors, Günther Kurth & Tine Kugler

Stay tuned, there is more coming out of the editing room!

We are always delighted to engage in partnerships with like-minded professionals across Europe who share our vision. If you’d like to collaborate with Kouzi Productions, we would love to hear from you!

Contact

kinderdocs.com

[email protected]
[email protected] 

EN

A Decade with Alice (Alice On & Off)

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Dimitra Kouzi Interviews Isabela von Tent, Alice On & Off before the world premiere in the international competition at Krakow Film Festival 2024

Dimitra Kouzi: What made you stay with Alice and film her story for more than ten years?

Isabela von Tent: The story goes back to 2014. I was in film school and, for an exam, I needed to make a documentary portrait of someone interesting. I had just moved to Bucharest a year before and barely knew anyone outside of school. Back in my tiny hometown in Transylvania, things were different. So, I asked my classmates for suggestions on interesting subjects. One of them, who also happens to be the sound guy on the film, knew Dorian and thought he could be a good subject. I found out he had a very young wife, and that's how I met Alice.

DK: How did that first encounter go?

IT: We were both shy. At the first shoot, I was super polite, asking formal questions, and Dorian gave these long-winded replies. Alice was mostly taking care of their child. After a few days of filming with them, I finally built up the courage to ask Alice if she wanted to talk. She said yes, but only after asking Dorian's permission, which he casually gave.

DK: And what kept you coming back?

IT: In the beginning, it was the exoticness of their lifestyle that drew me in, something completely unfamiliar to me. It took me a while to realize that we had similar pasts. I was raised by grandparents too, and my childhood wasn't easy, not like hers, but I understood her feelings – that longing for love and guidance while growing up.

DK: What exactly made you curious about them?

IT: It was the first time I wasn't being told what to do. My grandparents were very strict, and here I had this chance to explore and find out who I really connected with. Meeting Alice was a special experience. It was a feeling in my gut, a strong instinct that told me I had to stick with her. After finishing the short film for school, I thanked them and moved on. Funny how things turned out, but I randomly ran into Dorian on the street later and asked him about Alice. He told me the sad story of their breakup and how Alice had to give up her studies at the Fine Arts University to focus on taking care of the family. This news coincided with needing another documentary project for my next school year. Slowly, the idea of making a feature film about their messy but captivating life together started to form.

DK: So, how much footage did you end up with after ten years?

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IT: Not so much – around 70 hours.

DK: And did the story come together in the editing room then?

IT: Exactly. A big turning point came when my short film about Alice won a National Film Academy Award. Irina (Malcea, Luna Film) is a member of the Academy, saw the film, and someone connected us. It was a lucky break because at 23, I wasn't prepared to approach producers on my own.

DK: How much did these ten years of involvement influence your own life and decisions? What kind of mark did that involvement leave on you?

IT: A lot. I think the biggest thing that happened to me during this process was that it helped me understand why I was acting the way I was. I mean, why I just wasn't myself. For a long time, I was very very upset with how my parents and grandparents treated me. Of course, therapy is an option, but this was my process, through Alice, through our developing relationship. She wasn't very forthcoming about her past. Letting her tell her story helped me understand my own. That's why I agreed to share a bit of my personal journey in the film. Training my patience was a challenge for me as well. Throughout this process, I was constantly honing my patience while surrounded by colleagues who were actively working on various projects and films.

DK: You made the brave decision to become part of the film.

IT: Yes, but that decision came later, I guess. It was made in the editing room, because that's when a lot of things became clear. Over these ten years, I think the awakening moment, the moment I truly understood what the film was about, came during editing.

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DK: How did the producer, Irina Malcea, help you get to that point?

IT: Irina fulfilled many roles for me. She was a mentor, a sister, and a very caring and loving friend.

DK: Did you ever feel like putting the camera down?

IT: No, I never felt like quitting. However, I was always very careful about how I filmed them. We have a lot of raw footage that's more aggressive, or grounded in reality, but I didn't include it because I didn't think it was essential.

DK: How about the scene where Aristo shuts his ears while they're fighting?

IT:  When I went home afterwards, I questioned myself a lot. Why didn't I put the camera down? Why didn't I call the police? The answer is, I think I was more scared than he was. For him, this was a kind of reality, and somehow, he knew how to cope with it. If I'd stopped filming, I would have chosen not to show a very important part of this child's life. Even though it's difficult to watch, and many people will criticize me for continuing to film, I'm more than happy to answer their questions and explain that I couldn't ignore this significant aspect of Aristo's life.

DK: How much responsibility do you feel towards Aristo in general? You've followed him from birth until now, when he's a young boy aged 11.

IT: I actually feel a lot of responsibility. I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. I've heard many opinions on how to act or behave with your characters after filming is complete. But I choose to behave like a human. It's important to me to be part of his development, as much as he allows me to be, especially now that Dorian has just been diagnosed with cancer. We found out two weeks ago [April 2024]. So now I'm quite involved in what's happening with Aristo.

DK: That is very sad to hear. So what's happening with Aristo now?

IT: He's actually doing okay. He's continuing his martial-arts training, which has helped him develop a lot. He's changed a lot. He's a teenager, of course, a young teenager just starting his journey through those rough teenage years, but he's changed significantly. He looks healthier and more energetic. This sport has really helped him. I connected him with his trainer and helped him start training. It's been very beneficial for him. That's one way I'm helping him. Also, after his mother disappeared, I never stopped searching for her. We searched for her a lot.

DK: What other ethical challenges did you have to overcome? How did you manage to balance being an artist with making your film?

IT: It wasn't an easy journey to overcome the ethical questions. But most of the time, when I faced ethical dilemmas, I tried to imagine how I would feel if I were the character being filmed. I did this a lot and asked myself, 'Would I be comfortable with this?' We participated in many workshops where I shared my thoughts and fears with others, especially at Ex-Oriente and the Doku-Rough Cut Boutique. Those discussions helped us solidify the understanding that respecting the characters was the right approach. The rule, I think, was always to respect your character – respect Alice as a friend, respect her as a woman, and keep that in mind at all times.

DK: Would you say that your protagonists also learned something through this process?

IT: I want to believe that, after seeing the film, something changed within Alice. It was an hour and a half of roller-coaster emotions because it was the first time they were together in the same room, watching their lives unfold. I saw a shift in her, a sense that change might be coming. I don't know if it will happen in two months or three, but for the first time, she said to me, 'Thank you.' Just hearing her say 'Thank you' – it was very deep and heartfelt. She looked me in the eyes and said it, and that was very emotional for me.

DK: In general, Alice was very self-reflective in the film. I was very impressed by that. Do you think that's just how she is, or was it the filming process and your questions that brought that out?

IT: I think it was a combination of both her personality and her needs. The documentary process, the filming itself, became a way for her to be heard. She felt trapped in a family dynamic where she was solely responsible for providing – for the child, for Dorian – and her own needs were left behind. Talking to me, and having most of our conversations focus on her, I believe, created a balance that allowed her to be heard and to talk about herself.

DK: So, how would you describe Alice now that the film is finished? Now that you have some distance and perspective.

IT: I think Alice is an unloved girl, an unloved child trapped in a young woman's life. There's a lot of beauty within her that often goes unseen. She has a lot to offer. I saw the hope and the spark of joy within her. I truly wish that it will come back and that she will find the strength to overcome this very dark period in her life. She's vulnerable, but at the same time, she's powerful. Somehow, through her craziness and her courage to express her feelings authentically, she's grown. I saw the light in her paintings, a place where she felt safe. I saw the light when she played with her son.

DK: Can you reflect on the film's logline: 'How can you be loved if nobody has taught you how?'

IT:  It just emerged instantly. Mirroring myself through Alice's story, when I asked myself what I was missing in my personal development and what Alice was missing, the word 'love' came to mind.

DK: You refer to Dorian as an anti-hero.

IT: I appreciate him a lot for what he did for the child and how he helped Alice. When they met, she was in a very dark place, full of drugs and alcohol. He gave her hope. He had the emotional space to listen to her and encourage her to find a better path. He also gave her the space she needed to do that. But at some point, his darker side emerged – perhaps selfishness. He can be selfish when he wants to be, when his own interests take priority over their common ground. Interestingly, he was very aware of the camera.

DK: In what sense?

IT: In terms of his behavior. For example, remember the scenes where they were fighting? He was very quiet, uncharacteristically silent. I think, because he knew I was there, he put some limits on himself to avoid looking bad. During workshops, many people felt that Dorian wasn't all right, that he didn't always make good choices. On the other hand, you can't entirely blame him. We have beautiful footage of him caring for the child and taking care of Alice when she was younger. And after she left, he continued to care for the child. It's difficult to solely blame him for not always being honest.

DK: Where is Alice today? What's she doing?

IT: She has a new boyfriend, and from what I understand, he also struggles with drug addiction. She still visits her son often. I was surprised to see her at Dorian's place when I went to show them the film. She doesn't have a phone or internet access now, so I had no idea she would be there. I found her to be in a much better state than the last time I saw her, which was after an overdose. She was in a very bad shape then.

DK: Do you think there's a chance she can be saved or escape this path?

IT: She can escape it if she wants to. I can try to help her in a million different ways, but if she doesn't want, she won't be saved. 

DK: What emotions do you hope the audience experiences when they watch your film?

IT: I want them to question themselves. I've learned that uncomfortable feelings can reveal a very beautiful truth.

DK: Thank you, Isabela. It was a pleasure. I feel like I know you a bit better now. 

IT: Thank you for giving me this opportunity.

WORKSHOPS

BIOS

Isabela Von Tent, Director, DoP

Isabela's filmmaking journey began after she studied film directing and journalism.  She initially served as an assistant director on both national and international productions, collaborating with renowned Romanian filmmakers like Radu Jude and Tudor Giurgiu. These experiences provided invaluable training, but it was Isabela's unique perspective on reality and her passion for storytelling that drew her to documentary filmmaking.

Her debut in this genre, a short documentary, garnered the prestigious Romanian National Film Award. Driven by a desire to explore non-classical approaches to documentary storytelling, Isabela embarked on her first feature film. Shot over a span of ten years, this ambitious project led Isabela to participate in influential international training programs like Docu Rough Cut Boutique, ExOriente, and ZagrebDox Pro.

FILMOGRAPHY

All the Names that Start with C (2016), 14 min

short fiction

  • Festivals: Anonimul IFF, Romania 2016; STIFF Student International Film Festival, Croatia 2016

Chat with Alice (2015)

short documentary, 20 min

  • Cinemaiubit ISFF 2015 Awards: Best Short Documentary
  • Gopo Awards 2016: Best Short Documentary Film
  • Visegrad Film Forum: Case Study
  • Alter-Native 24, Tg Mures: Official Selection
  • STIFF International Student Film Festival, Croatia: Official Selection
  • Toamna La Voronet International Film Festival: Special Mention
  • Astra Film, Sibiu, Romania, 2016: Official Selection
  • DocuArt Fest, Bucharest, Romania 2016: Official Selection

Alice (2014)

Short documentary, 7 min

  • Cinemaiubit ISFF 2014, Victor Iliu Prize for Best Director of Short Documentary Film
  • Premiile Gopo 2015: Nominated for Best Short Documentary Film
EN

Girl’s Stories, Girlhood Magic

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Interview

Director Aga Borzym talking with Dimitra Kouzi

DIMITRA KOUZI: You introduce yourself as a director (once), animator (in-between), editor (usually), mother (by choice), engineer (by accident), and girl (from the beginning). How did this interesting combination influence the creative process for ‘Girls’ Stories’?

AGA BORZYM: I wrote it as a joke, but it’s true. That directing is the first time I’m doing this in this project. I’ve been an editor for a long, long time, but I was editing shorter things. But my dream was to edit a documentary movie because I thought the editor has a lot to say in the creative process. I came across this documentary, I was really interested in it. And for a Polish person, it was something really new, because we don’t have such films. And it’s not so popular to have a documentary where the protagonists are kids. Generally, Polish documentaries like to show really tough topics.

It is true. Like Communion, for instance.

It’s a great movie, of course.

People often reduce the film to just one story, about the first menstruation. Which it is not.

Menstruation was something with which I really connected, with this body thinking, and I realised I wasn’t doing that when I was a young girl. And nobody talked with me about a lot of stuff. And the body was somehow like a taboo. Even my mother, who wasn’t a person who didn’t want to talk, yet I think she didn’t know how to do this.

In the beginning, a lot of people were like, are you crazy? What do you want to show? And what do you want to talk about? And I thought, yes, these subjects are very fragile. And it’s a taboo in Poland. So maybe we should see animation, not faces. And I was in really nice workshops, where there were documentary-based people, and they like animation, but they want to see people, they want to see faces. They were like pushing me, come on, just try to show protagonists, try differently. They were challenging me, so I started to shoot different girls with my friend, Karla Baraniewicz, the DOP, and we did three groups of girls. I thought the best idea would be to shoot friends or sisters of similar ages. I was looking for that. I was also looking for girls who were before their first menstruation, who were maybe during this (this was the hardest), and who were a few years after. So we did it.

Did you cast them?

Yes. I even did a post on Facebook. It was more like to show other people, my friends, that I was doing this project. Sometimes it was nice because I was talking on Facebook. Facebook is from 13 years old. So, of course, the girls who wanted to talk with me, because I also did some interviews on the phone, looking for the protagonists, they were more like 16, 17, 18. They were older but they were saying some nice, interesting stuff. It was more like this project could be showing those really different aspects of this special moment in your life. But, of course, these girls which we have in our film in the end, they were the first girls we shot.

So we had this luck somehow that the first girls, even though I kept looking afterwards, the first girls were, I don’t know how to say it – brilliant. And this first scene we have in the film, it was just happening in front of our eyes, and we were amazed with Kachna (the DOP). I just wanted to talk with them. And this boy just came!

This first scene, where he asks, ‘What are you talking about?’.

Yes. We don’t see it, but it’s Zuzia’s brother, because he was a little bit jealous; he wanted to play with them as normal. But they told him, no, no, we are making a movie. Sorry, you can’t join us. So he dressed up, ninja style. And the girls were so in the movie and that we are shooting a documentary about girl stuff. They didn’t know at the start that this was Janek. This was really funny.

I think that the important thing is that you manage to connect with them. This is the key. This is why this film is also for adults. How did you win their trust and not just become a kind of ambassador for grown-ups?

I think with Jakota at first it was quite easy because I knew her. Maybe I wasn’t a really close person to her because I was closer to her mother. But of course I knew her from when she was born, and she knew me and she felt quite safe. Maybe it was also this age that she was really joyful, she really liked it when we were there with the camera, she really enjoyed it. She was excited. At the start it was quite easy, and she was very open. I didn’t push her to any subject.

How involved were the girls in the storytelling?

I was really calm and just looked very quiet. What Jakota wanted, maybe, what it can be, I was talking with her, of course, and then having an idea: OK, you have this friend and maybe we can film with her. OK, she’s coming to you for a sleepover. So, of course, there was the material, we were looking for some friends of hers, boys, girls, because she’s this girl who has a lot of friends. In the film, we see a few of them, but she’s a really social person. And she’s also a person who does a lot of stuff, sports stuff. At the start, in the script, even, she had this idea that she would make a football team, a girl football team, in her school, because at that time she was into football. She’s a person who does a lot but also changes very quickly.

How did you crystallise the issues and how did you write the script?

The script was quite challenging because a lot of people were asking me, OK, what is the goal? I was also a little bit not sure, of course, they are kids and then they become teenagers. But what does this transition mean? The subject was the two young girls, kids, changing to adults, I mean to teenagers. And the subject was what is changing in their life when they are becoming more visible as a woman? So, yes, that was the idea which I was looking for.

I was looking for the stories of Jagoda and Zuzia alone and thinking, OK, we will have their stories because they are friends, but they are not always together and they have different lives and their schools and they have different friends. They are more like those friends from the neighbourhood and they are not together all the time, they can talk about that. And, of course, those subjects sometimes were subjects which I asked them or just provoked somehow the idea that they can talk. It was good with them that they really like to talk together. They were unique in that, because even when we were shooting Jagoda with her friends from school, it was totally different. They didn’t talk so much. They didn’t complement each other. They were more childish because Jagoda is younger. But with Zuzia, you don’t feel this because she really likes that Zuzia probably challenged her somehow. So, I couldn’t imagine what they would say because they were saying so much stuff, sometimes so mature that I was really amazed myself. There were simple subjects which I just wanted to ask them about menstruation, their body changing, but I didn’t want to push them. I was really waiting for what they would say. And maybe I was provoking those subjects. But sometimes, of course, they were just talking by themselves.

What was the process of you directing them?

I was looking for situations. It could be that something could happen, Jagoda with her friends, with boys. I knew that they spent time with another girl, whom we don’t see a lot in the film. I knew that they were doing this stuff, more doing, not talking, stuff like skateboarding, going to the river, all this which we feel we all did somehow, maybe not everyone, but it’s very connected to this moment of life. And there is some freedom and some childish feeling still. And with Zuzia, I was just looking more for the places we could go and talk. I had notes, which subjects we could discuss. And I was looking for what’s going on there, what they are talking about now. Sometimes we did sleepovers, we would just meet at Zuzia’s place or Jagoda’s place. And of course, a lot of time we met in the playground. We did some walks in the neighbourhood, going for ice cream. 

In the script, sometimes the stories didn’t work out somehow, this football thing. OK, with Zuzia, I had the school, she had exams, she was overwhelmed – a lot of stuff was on her shoulders. And she’s in this nunnery school. I knew we had to do some mornings, when she’s waking very, very early with her brother. And it was more like to get the make up, the invisible makeup to go. Of course, I was interviewing them a lot also.And some interviews I also did after the whole shooting, I knew that I needed more story to be set, because at the start I thought it would be more observational. But then it came out that maybe we need more voice off. It was a kind of collage, I would say. There was this idea that she goes asking questions to adults, and we thought there would be more of that. But I wanted those questions to come from her. After, I don’t know, one year, she told me like, oh, no, this is so childish. I don’t want to do it anymore. I thought, OK, we will start to do this and make a different situation like the talk with her father. I had some questions, but what she asked him, I mean, what she said, I didn’t know, I didn’t expect. I really had this great protagonist, I knew that when I put something in their head somehow they will manage to transform it somehow.

What were you like at that same age?

Oh, I was very, very shy. I was more childish for sure. Of course, there was no social media like today. Yeah, I think I was really shy with boys, for example. And with Jagoda I love that she’s so spontaneous with all the people she meets. And with Zuzia I love that she talks about the world in a very funny way, but very wise also.That you are laughing and you’re also reflecting. They are so special.

Do you think that Jagoda and Zuzia are representative of the average Polish teenage girl?

No, no, no. I think it would be a lie if I would try to say yes. No, they aren’t. Of course, maybe they are average girls from big cities and from those good, like typical good families somehow. But maybe on the other hand they are special together, because of how they talk and what reflections they have. Sometimes 30-year-old women say, hey, come on, they are thinking like me. How come? Of course, probably they are reflecting some parents’ ideas, or they read a lot, Zuzia reads a lot. They aren’t average.

Is this why it also works for adults?

Maybe that’s why sometimes adults like to watch it because they have those ideas, and they are teenagers and you’re amazed, like, oh, my God, I’m thinking the same. They were like, maybe it’s not only for young people; maybe it can also be for adults. 

But did you feel, because it was your first film, insecure by many different opinions and many different people who said this and that?

Yes, it was like that. Actually, I’m an editor and I’ve been one for a long time, but I’d never edited a feature film before. From the start I said I want to edit this, and everyone was saying, no, it’s not professional. Don’t do this. Please don’t do this to yourself. And I was like, what are you talking about? No, I want to edit my own film at last. But then I understood it’s really hard to forget…

To have distance?

Yes, to have this distance. And of course, and now I understand it. And I got some really nice consultants. But one of my consultants was a really good editor and really well-known person. And at the start, it was really hard when we did something because we had this three-day consultation. And after all, we had like a…

… rough cut?

Yes. Of course, it was still during filming. We didn’t have the ending and other stuff. But I really needed time to understand that I want to change some stuff. Because I was like, oh, my God, he’s such a great editor.And maybe I should leave it because he said it.

But of course, it took time for me to understand I want it different, and I want to change some stuff. It was like I had to…

… follow your instinct.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

I’m sure that your relationship also evolved during the course of shooting the film and it affected also the final project, not only the shooting. Can you elaborate a bit on how your relationship evolved?

With Jakoda, it was really, really easy to just be with her. She loved the camera, and she could spend time with me and Kachna (the DOP), just walking around, doing things, and talking. But when she started to become more of a teenage girl in her eyes, I began to be more like a mother’s friend, an adult. Also, I think she started to feel insecure about the subject of menstruation. At the start, she was very open and didn’t care. For her, it was a normal subject. But then, someone at school said, ‘oh, really, you’re doing this movie, and there is this menstruation subject. So, she became influenced by others. It’s that phase when you start listening more to your friends than your parents and stop caring about what your parents say, becoming more concerned with what your friends and people your age think. 

So, I had to step back a bit and give her time. I was waiting for her to come around, and during that time, I was also more focused on Zuzia’s story. After a few months, Jakoda changed again and wanted to be more involved in the process. It was a continuous cycle. So, it was sinusoid, somehow. And, of course, I made some mistakes sometimes. For example, I asked some boys about menstruation. It wasn’t necessarily a mistake, but it turned out to be because they were so shy about the subject. One of the boys, who happened to be a close friend of Jakoda, didn’t want to be in front of the camera for half a year. I thought maybe I shouldn’t do this so quickly at the start. We needed time for him to forget about it. With boys, we relied more on observation. And they’re different, aren’t they? 

Would you say that boys, in general, approach this subject differently?

Yes, I think it’s not easy for them either. In school, they often segregate into groups, boys and girls, and talk about gender-specific topics. While segregating might help due to shyness, perhaps they should also discuss what girls go through during this time or what they feel. The same applies to girls; they should know what’s going on with boys. It’s a challenge in Poland; people often forget that it’s okay to address these subjects with boys. 

I believe this is a universal issue, not unique to Poland. How did you deal with the possibility that Jakoda and Zuzia might dislike the film in a few years or be embarrassed by it?

I was quite apprehensive about that. But on the other hand, it made me more cautious not to push them. While making a documentary, there’s a temptation to condense the subject.

It’s my first film, and it was really like stepping back and looking at them. But I felt that sometimes you may need to step back and give them space to express themselves. I believed they should be the first ones to decide how they wanted to present the film, after the shooting. We watched the film together, the three of us –me, Jakoda, and Zuzia, at Jakoda’s house. It was crucial for them to see if there was anything they didn’t want to share with their parents. I wanted them to feel that I was with them first and foremost. Of course, their parents were involved, but the focus was on the girls.

Is this the main difference when making a film for young people, that they become the primary decision-makers on the content and the final film?

In the end, they really loved everything, and we only removed one scene because Jakoda’s mother wasn’t sure about it. I understood that it might make someone feel uncomfortable, not the girls themselves, but someone they talked about in that scene.

Tell me about the animation. Did you create it yourself? Why did you incorporate these animation clips between scenes?

No, the animations were created by Monika Kuczyniecka, an animator with years of experience, specialising in clay animation. I love her work. The ideas were mine, and we had a script, but we collaborated closely, and sometimes, we made changes based on Monika’s suggestions. It was a wonderful collaboration.

The initial idea was that the animations would serve as metaphors and sometimes lighten the subject. They could also address topics that were challenging to discuss directly, like changes in the body. At times, they would convey emotions. It was more about conveying feelings than telling a story. Clay was something that I was dreaming about because it’s malleable, it’s childish work, and also has structure, like the human body. There’s a connection with the body. At the beginning, while I was making a trailer and we had a few days of shooting, I made a few suggestions for animations from the internet, just to show the feeling. I felt that it was really nice, clay added depth to the scenes and served as metaphors, nightmares, they often show us the subject of the scene before or after. It was like colour, sometimes. Editing this is sometimes quite hard… It’s like a moment from life. 

And what about the song, ‘Essa, Essa’? Was it written especially for the film?

Yes, it was, it was my dream to have a song written specifically for the film. Initially, I wanted a pop, empowering song for girls. The girls often used the word ‘Essa’ during their conversations. It became a sort of teenage word in Poland. It was interesting because when we first used it in the film, it became the teenage word of the year in Poland. It’s typical for teenagers to have such trends. Some people were concerned that we used it in the movie. However, this word was already being used by the girls themselves, especially as they transitioned into teenagehood. I think it’s associated with joy, relaxing, being cool. It’s hard to translate it into a single word. The word existed before; it wasn’t invented for the film. Basia Wrońska, a Polish songwriter and musician, crafted the lyrics based on what she heard from the girls while watching the movie. The song is also about friendship, which I adore.

Girls’ Stories has already seen success in Poland. What are your hopes for the film’s future?

I’m thrilled that the film will be available for educational projects, which makes it watchable in schools. It’s great to see it in that context. I’ve noticed that when children watch it in class, it offers a different experience compared to watching it with their parents. They become more reserved during discussions afterward. Maybe it can make a difference, encouraging them to open up.
The reactions have been varied. Some boys asked when we’d make a film for them, like a second part for boys. Some girls felt empowered by the film. In Poland, it’s not common to openly discuss such topics, especially in films. It’s a blend of conservatism and Catholicism, exacerbated by the current very right-wing government. Women’s rights are underrepresented, and young people are becoming aware of it. One girl told me she was amazed it was a Polish movie and that a boy was discussing women’s rights in it, giving her hope. Jagoda’s school may not be typical, but there are many young people who want to bring about change.

Did making this film change you?

It was quite a journey for me. When I was starting, I was really feeling insecure. That’s probably why I thought that I would make a short documentary for kids. And at the start, I thought it would be a docu-animation, because I’ve been doing animation for a few years now.

For sure, making this film has changed me. I feel more confident that I’m capable of making films now, more secure to create documentary films. I hope it was not just this one. It’s a growing experience, I feel more sure of my ideas. I feel more like a filmmaker.

I’m sure you’ll go on to make more great films. You are a great storyteller.

Follow the film on sm

EN

Lie to Me Interview with Bår Tyrmi and Dag Mykland

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by Dimitra Kouzi

Bår Tyrmi, director and co-editor, ‘Lie to me’

Dag Mykland, producer and co-director, ‘Lie to me’

Dimitra Kouzi: What initially drew you to the story of the OneCoin scam?
Dag Mykland (D): It’s actually quite a story. I remember the date well. It was 6 June 2020, and I was walking to the office, when I got a phone call from an unknown number. I picked up, and this guy just told me: ’My name is Bjørn Bjercke. I’ve sent you two messages on LinkedIn. Google me, and I’ll call you back in 20 minutes.’ I remember thinking: ‘Who the hell is this?’

Bår Tyrmi (B): Yes, I remember you phoned me just after that. We both googled and decided this was extremely interesting.

D: That phone call sent us straight down the OneCoin rabbit hole! 

Bjørn Bjercke is a central character. How did you gain his trust and convince him to participate in the documentary?

B: We had previously made two other feature docs on blockchain technology: 'The Bitcoin Experiment' in 2015 and 'The Code of Trust' in 2019. They both screened on the national broadcaster NRK, and Bjørn had watched them. He liked our approach to the technology and how we  made documentaries. He basically chose us to make the film about his story.

D: It was how we portrayed and explained crypto technology that caught his attention. I guess making hundreds of movies for educational purposes back in the day really paid off.

'Lie to Me' follows Bjørn Bjercke for over three years. What were the biggest challenges in capturing his journey in terms of your or other people’s safety? Did you as filmmakers ever feel unsafe or under threat?

D: Bjørn has received serious threats to himself and his family, and is still living at a secret address. This meant we could never disclose the real locations when filming, and we had to keep the shooting dates and places secret.

B: I remember meeting Jamie Bartlett with Bjørn in London. He is the journalist behind the award-winning BBC podcast 'The Missing Cryptoqueen,' and has been researching the OneCoin case for years. He had his doubts whether Bjørn was exaggerating the security issues. But after Jamie started receiving threats himself, he told us he was so happy to be protected by the BBC. That made him think how brave Bjørn was to stand up to these people.

D: We have not received threats. But when we went to the Stockholm event in 2022 and confronted the OneCoin leaders, they were quite angry with us for spreading 'lies.' But it’s really Bjørn, Jonatan, Duncan, Layla, Daniel, and Amjad who have been the brave ones. And for us as documentarists, such discoveries are golden!

How did you distinguish the truth from all those lies while doing the research? 

D: That is really difficult because the information about OneCoin comes from so many different sources: social media, blogs, online newspapers, court documents, emails, chat groups… There are so many stakeholders. Some want to clear their name, some want their money back, some want to keep on scamming, some want to bring criminals to justice. They all have their own side to the story.

B: You have to double-check the information.  When the same facts appear in different places, different sources and stakeholders, you can kind of conclude that they are true. It’s very time-consuming, and you can never be one hundred per cent sure that what you’ve found is true. You have to go for what is plausible and most likely to be true.

D: I remember us saying, 'It’s hard to spot a scam in a room full of liars.' That was our working motto while researching this story. But after working on it for more than three years, we have formed quite a good picture of what really happened.

The film explores the psychology behind the scam. Can you elaborate on the specific techniques used by OneCoin to manipulate investors?

D: The people behind OneCoin were very clever; you have to give it to them. It was the first scam that really combined crypto with multi-level marketing. At a scale never seen before. Erica says in our film, 'Not only are you gonna get rich, but if you get your friend to invest, you'll get loads more money, and if you get other people to invest, you'll get lots more money.' It really hit people in a psychological weak spot. That, combined with the insecurity and hype around Bitcoin’s  investment potential – it really hit hard.

B: The combination of social psychology with branding, group and cult mentality, and prospects of getting rich quick was brilliant. If you just add a bit of scarcity or exclusivity to it, it creates a massive FOMO (fear of missing out). It’s all very emotional; it gets you hooked. And that cocktail spread like wildfire.

In terms of storytelling, can you elaborate on the specific techniques used to build the story? 
B: A challenge with ‘Lie to Me’ was that it is a complex, multi-character story. It stretches over a period of eight years, and the starting point of the film is in the middle of that timeline. But to fully understand who these people are and the plot, we take leaps forward and backward in time… We worked a lot with the narrative structure, when to provide and when to withhold information. Our editor, Jo Eldøen, has really done a fantastic job structuring the film.

We wanted to keep our audience in suspense throughout the 90 minutes, and make them feel the same way as we did while we worked with the film. When we thought we knew where the story was going, a new surprise would pop up out of nowhere. It is a real rollercoaster!

That emotionality was one of the things we tried to bring to the film through the use of archive footage and graphics.

D: It’s been a thrilling ride for sure. We also worked with the scriptwriter Siw Rajendram Eliassen as a consultant for the narrative. She really helped us figure out the main sentences of what we were looking into. That helped us when we had to make decisions on the fly.

B: I remember her saying, 'Somebody has to die in the fourth act.'

Does anyone die?

D: I guess you have to watch the film to find out.

The banker Duncan Arthur, a former OneCoin insider, is also featured. How did his perspective contribute to the film's narrative?


D: Duncan has been extremely important for the film. On one hand, he gave us a lot of inside information we could use to verify the actual story. He also made us realise that this story is kind of a tragedy for everybody involved, including the people behind it. Everybody loses on a scam like this.

On the other hand, his dubious persona impersonates the OneCoin scam, in a way. He’s selling, funny, open, and you kind of want to trust him – but can you?

The documentary highlights the international reach of the OneCoin scam. How did you approach filming across different countries?

B: The OneCoin scam is global, so we soon realised we would have to travel. We would research online, and reach out to people that had expressed interesting views in chat rooms or online publications. Sometimes it would take months to get a reply. A lot of people have been hesitant to participate. It is quite an undertaking to come forward in a case like this. It was also challenging because we never offered sign-off fees to participate in our film as many other production companies do. We wanted people to talk with us for the right reasons.

D: But when a person finally agreed, we would act fast to secure the shoot before they change their mind. This has been quite risky, economically, because we are a small production company on a low budget. Luckily most trips ended in solid stories and have ended up in the final edit.

'Lie to Me' is troubling because the scam persists despite being exposed. What do you hope viewers will learn from this aspect of the story?


B: Even if it can be shameful to realise that you have been scammed, it is never too late to pull out. Too many people continue just because they do not want to realise that they have been wrong.

D: It’s sad to hear and see all these people who have lost money but still have hope. I guess when you’re too far down a scam like this, it’s sometimes easier to accept another lie than to face the truth.

You mentioned the film utilises graphics and archive footage. Can you give some examples of how you chose them and how  these elements enhance the storytelling?

B: We wanted to reflect some of the tackiness and larger-than-life nature of the whole OneCoin environment in the visual style of the film. The OneCoin people live on lies, and that is reflected in how they present themselves. Gold, champagne, fast cars, Hollywood glam… but in a tacky way. This has inspired us in choosing the archive and the use of stock footage, and editing the sequences as compact film trailers.

D: Internally, we have referred to the archive sequences as 'film-poems.' We are not so concerned to illustrate exactly what the different persons in the film are talking about, but more about finding the feeling and deeper message in what they say.

The production spanned three and a half years. Were there any surprising discoveries or developments during filming? 

D: Too many! Basically we set out to make a retrospective film about a fake cryptocurrency already exposed as a scam, with the people behind it in jail or missing. Yet we ended up following an ongoing scam for more than three years… so the film was full of surprising discoveries for us. Even now, there’s new developments in the case against the leaders of OneCoin. This story never ceases to surprise us.

How did you work together as the  film’s two directors? 

B: Dag and I have been working together for almost 15 years, and for the last 10 years we have run the Hacienda production house together. In most productions, we cooperate on scriptwriting, production, directing, and editing. We have a saying that no ideas are too small, irrelevant, or crazy to be discussed.

Investigative documentaries are hard and expensive to make. What would make your work easier? 

D: We’re lucky to have a wide range of funding opportunities in Norway. But working with investigative documentaries, the lines between development stage and production are often blurry. It’s an ongoing process and story, and you never know what comes next – you simply have to be aware and throw yourself at what you believe is important to catch on camera. We all know shooting days are expensive, and I believe having access to more of the film’s total budget earlier in the process would make it easier and less financially risky for small production houses such as Hacienda. However, I must also give credit to some of the consultants at Norwegian Film institute and Sørnorsk Film Centre, who have been with us in every step. Especially how they are so open and helpful in creating the best story by adjusting budget, production plan, partnering in narrative and plot-talks along the way.

The documentary has already been acquired by TVE, NRK, SVT, and Al Jazeera. What is your vision for the film's future?

D: We hope the film can be screened in more festivals in North and South-America, Europe, and Asia. The topic is global, so I hope it would attract an audience that either wants to watch it or perhaps needs to watch it.

The ambition is that when financial opportunities like OneCoin or any other scheme come along, you’re able to see the red flags and keep away.

Looking back, is there anything you would have done differently in making this documentary?

B: There are always many things that could have been done differently. We should have aimed for a higher budget to allow ourselves more time in post-production. And there were some leads and possible shoots that we had to cancel for financial or risk reasons… Looking back, it would have made the film even more global.

'Lie to Me' goes beyond simply exposing a scam. What is the larger message you want audiences to take away?

D: If something looks like a rat, walks like a rat, and smells like a rat… it is probably a rat.

B: There are a lot of people and organisations that want our attention, time, money, and endorsement. We all need to be aware of the red flags. If something looks or sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

EN

Interview by ‘Silent Trees’ Director, Agnieszka Zwiefka, to Dimitra Kouzi

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Dimitra Kouzi: You were impressively confident from the beginning about what you were doing, in a situation which was utterly chaotic. How was that? What drew you to Runa’s story?

Agnieszka Zwiefka: I try to follow impulses, instincts in my work. When I heard about the refugee crisis on the Polish-Belarusian border, I had an impulse to just go there. I had no idea whom I would meet and what story I would find. We started to volunteer in a refugee camp. I remember when I saw Runa and her family for the first time. They had just arrived, and their mother was still alive, in a hospital. I felt this impulse yet again. To follow them, especially Runa as a teenage girl. I immediately understood that showing the refugee crisis through the eyes of the refugee children is the most powerful way to tell this story. After all, they are the ones affected the most by this humanitarian crisis. From the moment I met Runa I knew she should be the main protagonist. She had this unbelievable strength in her, this silent resilience. I think it was love at first sight. I believe that you need to fall in love at first sight with your protagonist.

Dimitra Kouzi: You left your hometown, your daughters, who are teenagers, and went far away to the border to help. Is this how you normally operate?

No, I’d say it was a state of emergency in a way. Me and my friends in Poland were shocked by what was going on at the border – the refugee crisis we knew from the Mediterranean suddenly was ‘next door’. But what was even more shocking was the reaction of the Polish government, which immediately restricted access to these people. Volunteers, medical aid, journalists, no one was allowed to enter, no one was allowed to help. And for me, that was so inhuman that I knew I had to do something about it. I guess deep inside I’m a punk. And whenever someone tells me not to go somewhere, it becomes very tempting to actually go there, to tell the untold stories. So that was the beginning.

DK: When you met the family, you immediately started filming. We all know how difficult it is to gain the trust of somebody we want as a protagonist. How did that work out, with the DOP, the camera?

AZ: I’m always very honest with my protagonists. I told the family I was not going to be there for a week, or two, or a month. It’s a long, long journey together. I used the help of an interpreter through the phone, so they were aware of what I was planning to do. But we were filming without the support of an interpreter, following our instincts. Later, when we translated the footage, we discovered that in most cases our instincts were correct. I also choose my crew very carefully. My DOP, Kacper Czubak, is a very kind and empathetic person. On an everyday basis, it was just me and him.

Establishing a bond with documentary characters usually takes a long time and requires patience, trust. I am always prepared for that. But in this case, it all happened very quickly. I guess being together with someone during the most traumatic events of their lives creates this bond very quickly. We were together with them at the very moment they learned about their mother’s death. We cried together. Of course, we didn’t film everything. We tried to carefully choose what to film and what not to film. And this is also one of the methods of working in such situations. But just being with them in this groundbreaking moment in their lives, created a much stronger and deeper bond.

DK: On one hand, you are empathetic and on the other hand you need to create scenes, to find these moments which will enable you to build the story. How do you deal with these issues and the ethical questions involved?

AZ: One issue was that we filmed in a language we didn’t speak. We didn’t have an interpreter on set because access to this refugee camp was restricted. But I think intuition helped us. There is an international language of emotions. In some of the scenes with Runa and her father, we didn’t know what was being said, but we could sense it was important. That was the biggest challenge. You need to develop another sense to pick up these elements. Baravan, Runa’s father, is an amazing protagonist because he is totally sincere. He never tries to pretend, to be someone else. He’s the first protagonist of any of my films that completely doesn’t have any mask on; he wears his heart on his sleeve. That also helped us to have a little light in the darkness we were filming in, because it was really filming in the darkness.

DK: What other challenges did you face during filming?

AZ: Filming the most emotionally difficult moments – especially the mother’s funeral. They actually asked us to film it. I was filming it myself and I remember I wasn’t even sure if the footage was in focus or not because my eyes were so full of tears. I didn’t know what to do, grab the kids and hug them, or film the scene, which was very important for the story. This kind of schizophrenia, I think, is embedded in every work of a documentary film director that touches upon tragedies, traumas, dramatic events, because we have to be at the same time a psychologist who knows how to approach people and open them up, a friend who is there to support, an ‘engineer’ who takes care of the film’s construction, and an artist who has a vision. A lot to handle.

DK: You must also be distanced, not emotionally involved.

AZ: But very often it’s the friend who wins. And that’s when we put the camera away. I always try to explain why we need to film some scenes. It got better with time because the kids started to understand first English, then Polish. Now we have a fluent communication. In fact, they watched the film last week.

DK: That’s also another crucial moment, when they watch the film.

AZ: It was an amazing evening for us because Runa was enchanted by the animations. And when she saw her drawings come alive, she had her mouth wide open and told me, ‘That’s exactly how it was in my head.’

DK: Nice! What is the message you hope the audience will get by watching ‘Silent Trees’?

AZ: I wanted to show the human face of the refugee crisis. Not numbers, not distant stories. Now the European Union is debating legalising pushbacks. That means that people will be sent through the freezing forests, through the Mediterranean, back to their home countries because some bureaucratic system decides so. I wanted to give voice to the people that very often don’t have a voice.

DK: How did you work with animators to balance and bring Runa’s feelings to life?

AZ: The reason we created these animated parts was to enable the audience to see the world through Runa’s eyes, to enter her mind and experience the world through her imagination. Of course, animations are not realistic; they give us the possibility of creating worlds that don’t exist. But we based them very strongly on Runa’s drawings. She had a sketchbook filled with disturbing images, such as trees swallowing people and spitting out bones, a girl sitting on the verge of an abyss. We wanted to bring these images to life. I knew that this world, the sub-world of the film, had to be black and white, harsh but sometimes also poetic. We were visually inspired by Marjane Satrapi’s graphic novel ‘Persepolis,’ which also uses a young girl’s perspective. Our animation studio, Yellow Tapir, is one of the top studios in Poland. They were very engaged with the film because of its subject matter, as they were also shocked by the refugee crisis. They studied Runa’s drawings, and we slowly developed a style based on them.

The way we worked on combining the two layers of the film is that we first filmed all the documentary scenes and only then started to work on animation. We were looking for documentary scenes that could lead into the animated world, places where animations can add something, at the same time taking care of their rhythm.

DK: You often focus on girls and women, on the female perspective. Is it a statement you want to make by telling their stories?

AZ: I think women are still not portrayed in films enough, and if they are, they are often shown as victims only. One could argue that Runa is also a victim of circumstance, yet she’s so powerful and strong, being the leader of her family and taking care of her brothers and father. This is why I fell in love with her as a documentary character, because of this strength inside her. I want to tell stories about strong women. But there is also another topic I am a bit obsessed with: outsiders. Actually, all my films in one way or another showed people outside of the mainstream – whether it’s a gypsy community (‘The Queen of Silence,’ 2014), female fighters from Tamil Tigers, an organisation designated as terrorist (‘Scars,’ 2020), or an elderly DJ (‘Vika!,’ 2023). The elderly are often outsiders as well. And Runa, as a refugee, is an outsider in our society. I think this comes from the fact that I also used to be an outsider. I was a migrant child as well, I emigrated with my family to the USA. It wasn’t the same situation Runa faces, but I found myself in a completely different world with no familiar ground beneath me. I think I empathise with people who are in situations like that. I understand what it’s like to suddenly have your life as you know it radically end.

DK: You also tell stories about stateless nations.

AZ: Yes. Roma, Tamils, Kurds…  They are also outsiders wherever they go. The need for a home is something that is very much present in my films. I think home is a basic human need, and Runa is willing to sacrifice everything to build a home for her brothers.

DK: What other aspect binds your main characters together throughout your body of work in your perspective as an artist?

AZ: I look for protagonists who have light inside them, this kind of light that shines even in total darkness. But it’s always a subconscious choice. It’s not like I set out to do an anthology about specific groups or countries. I think it’s intuition, really.

DK: Do you plan to continue making documentaries, in addition to the fiction film you are currently preparing?

AZ: Honestly, I think this is my last documentary.

DK: You’re a successful documentary filmmaker with a unique style, and now you’re venturing into fiction. Why abandon documentaries?

AZ: Because it’s just too demanding psychologically. I find myself deeply affected by the stories and characters I follow. My filmmaking process involves staying connected, not disconnecting, from the world I portray even after the editing is finished. This constant exposure to trauma is psychologically draining. We, documentary film directors, while not experiencing the same level of trauma as the victims of the conflicts we cover, are still affected by it. When you accumulate this over years and years, at some point it becomes too much. This story with Runa nearly broke me, especially being with the children on the day their mother died.

DK: Why did they ask you to film the mother’s funeral?

AZ: Their future was quite uncertain, and films can sometimes change people’s lives for the better. I don’t believe that we can solve global problems and humanitarian crises. But we can help individuals. And they felt that bringing attention to their fate, their tragedy can help them be more secure in Poland.

DK: Do you always work with the same team – the same cinematographer, editor, and composer?

AZ: Choosing a team is crucial. It’s like a marriage, working with the same people for many years as we always do in observational feature-length documentaries. With Kacper Czubak, my DOP, it’s our second film together, and we already have some new plans. But I am also open to new collaborations – as in the case of our composer. We are very lucky to have Niklas Paschburg on board. He is a very well-known musician, a true star of the arthouse music scene.

DK: What creative choices did you make about the music?

AZ: We wanted it to be subtle, minimalistic, and to evoke emotions. Through simple sounds, we wanted to make our audience feel the pain or the joy our protagonists are experiencing. It was more about subtracting than adding.

DK: How is Runa today? How is she today, how are things with her family, her father, and brothers?

AZ: Most of the film was shot in 2022. The situation is basically the same as you see at the end of the film. They have received temporary asylum. Runa is still going to school. Now she speaks perfect Polish. She still wants to become a lawyer.

Time heals, so they are a bit better now, but still moments come when this forest just enters Runa’s head, and I can see her disconnecting from the world around her. It’s a trauma that will keep on hitting back for years, if not for ever.

The film ‘Silent Trees’ is having its World Premiere at CPH:DOX in March 2024 and the Polish Premiere at Krakow Film Festival in May 2024.

Articles, Doc-making, EN, Festivals, People

passage To Europe wins Special jury award for BEST documentary at los angeles greek film festival 2021

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The film was also screened at the San Francisco Greek Film Festival on 16–24 April 2021. In San Francisco it won as BEST DOCUMENTARY the jury wrote about it: 'Passage to Europe' is an intimate portrait of Fotis Psycharis, whose passion for teaching is matched only by his compassion for his charismatic students. The filmmaker’s extraordinary access and skilled technique takes the viewer past the inflammatory rhetoric surrounding global refugees to open hearts and minds to the resilient children facing unimaginable hardship. https://grfilm.com/awards/

read more on how and why the film passage to Europe, 48', 2021, directed by Dimitra Kouzi was made after Good Morning Mr Fotis, 70', 2020 HERE

Articles, Doc-making, EN

Art Crimes shoot in Greece

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This is the protected Delphic Landscape and us (Jacob Stark, Stefano Strocci and Dimitra Kouzi) while the shooting for part of episode 3 of “Art Crimes”, a documentary series about some of the most spectacular art heists of the 20th century! The series is produced by Stefano Strocci (Unknown Media) in co-production with RBB/ARTE, SKY Arte and will feature dramatic reconstructions of thefts, with input from those involved: the investigators, prosecutors and some of the thieves themselves.

Episode 3 brings us to Greece and the city of Itea. This is the small Greek city (15 Klm from Delphi by the sea in Fokis) were the oil producer, Ephthimios Moscadescades lived. He and his brother requested the prestigious Renaissance paintings, including two Raphael artworks. The paintings were stolen by a group of Italian and Hungarian thieves from the Museum of Fine Arts in Budapest in November 1983. After an anonymous phone-call the paintings were found in a suitcase in the garden of the Tripiti Monastery in Aigio.

We shoot (also with a super 8 camera) in Itea, the breathtaking area around it towards Aigio (on the Peloponnese) and then in Athens, where we interviewed the judge Leandros Rakintzis. Save the date the amazing series will be broadcasted in more than 15 channels across Europe in 2022.

https://variety.com/2019/tv/news/art-crimes-van-gogh-the-scream-picasso-documentary-arte-sky-1203410253/

Articles, EN, Festivals, Guests, People

Withered Flowers

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Jahanbakhsh Nouraei is a renowned Iranian film critic and lawyer. He has written vastly on movies for many years. This is an English translation of his review of Radiography of a Family by is Firouzeh Khosrovani.

Two kinds of people use x-rays films: physicians, to diagnose distortions of the body —especially broken bones— and trouble- shooting locksmiths, to open closed doors. 

(They insert the x-rays film through the narrow opening that the naked eye may not see). 

Radiograph of a Family is Firouzeh Khosrovani's feature documentary that has both skills. It shows both that which is broken, and the opening of a door to the sad garden of memories. The break and the opening of the door are both symbols of a world wider than the family home and its four walls. 

The film goes from the particular to the universal and becomes the story of numerous other families. But the small and real world of the husband and wife of this family is drawn so softly and justly that similarities, and the visible and hidden looks at the tumultuous world outside the wall, fall into place naturally and without exaggeration. 

The woman and man's beliefs, attachments, and values slowly end up in opposition to one another. The beliefs of each one is not fake, but genuine. They emerge from within and inevitably drag the family into a war that, despite attachments, has no result other than the reversal of the man and woman's positions and their emotional separation. Both are flowers whose petals are scattered by opposing winds, in a marriage that began with love. 

The father has Western beliefs and behaviors. He is happy and filled with vigor. He has studied in Switzerland and become a physician there. The mother is religious, God-fearing, and worried about falling into sinful behavior. In between the two, their daughter is a neutral narrator who opens the faded notebook of days, and tells of the events and struggles, alongside mother's and father's voices.  

The father does not resist the course of events; as he loses everything that he loves, he slowly withdraws into himself and, with melancholy, prepares to leave a world that is no longer his. 

From the narrator's viewpoint, father and mother's union began with a visual attraction. The very first sentence we hear from her at the beginning of the film is "Mother married father's photograph." Father has taken one look at his future wife and mother has seen a photo of her future husband, they like each other and get married. But the photo portrait of the groom that takes the place of his warm body and breath at the wedding ceremony, bodes a cold future.

In this film, photographs are the instruments and links of a tense union between two different cultures and beliefs; the cracks in this union, brought about by a slow domestic rebellion, meanwhile find their wider reflection out on the streets that are brimming with revolt and social change. Home and outside the home are two parallel worlds that reflect each other like intertwined mirrors. The photos, aided by the spoken text and the simple, meaningful dialogues, communicate like the beads of a rosary, become memorable, advance the story, converse with the music, fall silent and finally collapse and surrender to being burned and torn to pieces. The broken-hearted father dies quietly in his sleep and the mother stays behind to move about in her wheeled walker, to seek refuge in her usual, old sacred ideal, and to have her life continue in this way. 

The walker as a real object acts as a cane for a weak human being; yet at the same time represents the paralysis of a rebellious soul, and speaks of the fate of a woman of traditional beliefs who was forced to go skiing in Swiss mountains, an act that damaged her body and soul — the damage that stays with her to the end, and is irreparable. This X-rays image aligns with father's profession, radiologist; and the real distortions of a wife's spinal column link symbolically to an intellectual and social current to which the mother takes part, finding broader meaning.

After her skiing accident mother said repeatedly that it was as though her back were split in two. Thus, she seeks peace of mind and the cure to a split identity in the therapeutic space of the Revolution. The ideals are expected to help her heal the spinal column of her oppressed soul, release her from the wounds of a foreign culture, and with God's help, to allow the withered flower to blossom again in the passion and zeal of revolutionary romanticism. 

The anti-tradition culture did not suppress her in Switzerland only. In the time that she was made to live in that country, where their daughter was conceived, the signs of Western culture began to influence and infiltrate her home land at great speed also. The land of her ancestors now looked like Geneva. 

Still, Fortune favors the mother, and her rebellious desire, after returning to Iran, finds a suitable outlet in the enthusiastic slogans of Dr. Ali Shariati, flag-bearer of anti-government religion. This revolt becomes more audacious daily, and a spring that had been pressured into coiling begins to expand. 

It does so within the family, it accelerates, the power equation collapses, and mother forces father — whom she often calls "monsieur" -- into sad retreat. The rearrangement of furniture according to mother's tastes causes father's decorations to fade, the balance of power is disturbed. Mother's progress is guaranteed just like the relentless victories of the trenches in battle scenes. The colors at home tend towards grey; a feeling of mourning and the absence of passion, delicacy, affection scatter over the home.  The re-arrangement of furniture causes destruction and renovation to intermingle, and recalls the verses of the poet M. Azad that: "From these rains – I know – this house will be ruined. Ruined." 

The climax of events occurs when the mother says good-bye to her unpleasant and "sinful" past in the effort to solidify her new position, and she tears up the photographs that, for her, represent giving in to sin and to foreign influences.  

Mother's act creates the impression that one of the aims and advantages of toppling values during revolutionary zeal is to deny the past and burn its signs, both in matrimonial life and in society. Here, the narrator's role becomes slowly more prominent and she does not remain silent faced with the ruin of the home and the removal of the past.  The narrator enters the scene and we witness her small hands connecting the fragmented pieces of the family's heritage and memories; if she cannot find a missing piece, she paints it in herself with the help of her imagination and her longings.  White and red and green, accompanied by engaging majestic music, take the place of the cold and empty area, and the space takes on a hopeful tone. It is as though the past of a family and a country whose to be recognized again wins over to be forgotten and thrown away. 

The form and narrative of the film do the same, by juxtaposing retrieved photos and faded old films, giving the past new life, making us look at it differently and ask where we stand. 

At the end of the film, which is a new beginning, the viewpoint changes and the camera looks from above, as though through the invisible eye of history, at the girl who lies in a white dress among an ocean of torn up photographs and is busy reconstructing and breathing new life into them. This delicate and effective scene can become a positive sign for a new generation, to bring one's home back to life; a home that, with all its joys and fleeting happy moments, in the end had nothing but bitterness and despair neither for itself nor for its wandering inhabitants.