Sometimes we have to act scary to feel safe. A film about scaring birds so that we wouldn’t feel afraid of ourselves.

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

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

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

An absurdist farce centering around a school in post-Soviet Latvia. After a rather disgusting prank (someone defecates in the school attic), the tyrannical headmistress deems that no one can leave until the culprit is caught. When the photographer's pet python escapes, havok breaks loose.

Playfully avant-garde and exhibiting an intriguing sense of humor, PIZZAS offers a puzzle of widescreen imagery, brash pop moments, and road movie ambience. Pakalnina, Latvia’s best-known director, spun this cryptic but airy comedy/tragedy from a news item about two 18-year-old fast-food workers who robbed their employer’s safe and split. (Gene Siskel Film Center)

Based on a Soviet propaganda story about Young Pioneer (the Soviet equivalent of a Boy Scout) Morozov, who denounced his father to Stalin’s secret police and was in turn killed by his family. His life exemplified the duty of all good Soviet citizens to become informers, at any expense. In our film, 75 years later, we call him little Janis. He is a Pioneer who lives on the Soviet collective farm “Dawn”. His father is an enemy of the farm (and the Soviet system) and plots against it. Little Janis betrays his father; his father takes revenge upon his son. Who then in this old Soviet tale is good and who is bad? This film reveals that a distorted brain is always dangerous. Even today.

终点站像一个圈，因为那是事物转动的地方。这部纪录片就是在“绕圈运动”过程中拍摄的。不断地移动，看着人们逐渐靠近、或渐行渐远。在终点站遇到的人是非常重要的人。也许是因为终点站是一座城市结束或开始的地方。即便与城市无关，那至少也是有些故事结束或者开始的地方。

Waterfall and I, and – no, the other way around! This film is, of course, about nature – human nature. Or – what a human can do with the widest waterfall in Europe.

A ferry crosses the river. The work of the ferry is never-ending. It is a boat that transports people from one shore to another, from one country to another, without ever stopping, regardless of the changing seasons. It is a brief portrayal of Piedruja-Druja, on the border of Latvia and Belarus, at the beginning of the 1990s, when the Soviet Union began to crumble and Latvia gained its independence.

The camera stands in a house, the lens pointing through the window, outdoors, where the occupants of the home are standing. They respond patiently to the camera operator’s directions: a small step to the left, a little bit forward, no, back just a bit, yes, that’s perfect. Dozens of people pose in this way for a full minute. There’s a man who lives alone, a large family, an older woman on a trampoline. Some are entirely at ease, others more self-conscious. Rabbits, dogs, and cats are allowed to join these portraits, too. All of them are captured within the natural frame of the windows, along with the lace or floral curtains. The result is a succession of countless moving portraits in perfectly framed black-and-white. The disarming, gently surrealistic tableaux vivants reveal the elements that make a house a home: the simmering casserole, the sound of the radio, the way the light falls, the rustling of the trees. The simplicity of the structure allows the smallest details to emerge. Limitation reveals the master; the power lies in the repetition. “Look!” the Latvian filmmaker Laila Pakalniņa seems to be whispering, “Listen! Observe!”

The Krāslava bridge is the first bridge crossing the river Daugava in Latvia’s territory, it is the Daugava’s gateway to Latvia. Here the bridge is the same as everywhere – it both unites and divides. The most important is – from which side one is looking at it. From this side, from that side, from the bridge’s side (and – which), or from under-the-bridge side. When all the sides come together, the film will be finished.

The Hijacker lands the plane at the Rīga Airport. 7 year-old Tom, travelling on his own, voluntarily becomes a hostage. Along with the traditional demands, the Hijacker adds the demands of the little hostage – beginning with some local chocolate and a self-instruction tape for learning the native language, and ending with organizing a Song Festival and a special biathletes’ performance – all ideas originating from a CD on Latvia.

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

A CrossFit trainer becomes the father of a baby girl, Snow White. Snow White’s mother dies, and her father marries a young woman obsessed with CrossFit and herself. She works out all the time in order to be the best. And she really is the best – she can do 50 burpees.* In the meantime, little Snow White plays and grows up in the CrossFit gym. All of those ropes, bars, balls, and jump ropes are her toys. Time passes, and one day it is revealed that while the Stepmother can do 50 burpees, Snow White can already do 53 burpees…

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