Karsten Krause

Ida lives on a sailing yacht with a crew of five men. While on shore leave in Marseilles, she becomes fascinated with the French Foreign Legion and decides to sail to Sidi Bel Abbès, the Legion's former headquarters in Algeria.

La empresa is a strange creature of a most ambiguous nature: a fiction film about documentary filmmaking as fiction filmmaking, and what it all does to a region’s economy as well as a collective psychology. Or is it? Isn’t it more to the point to say that... But before we get lost here, let’s state what La empresa talks about: how the caminata nocturna, the illegal crossing of the border between Mexico and the United States, was turned into a business that ranges from four-hour night-time tours for tourists out for a sick thrill to reenactments for film and television crews. The latter, of course, is at the core of André Siegers’ casually ironic look at this economy of disaster. When the Germans arrive in town, they meet a workforce already in place and willing to play to any national stereotype – as the French seem to get other kicks out of presenting the caminata nocturna than the Netflix internationals.

In south-western Texas, elongated mountain ranges, broad valleys, prairies and deserts pass by. At the Bottom of the Sea explores this imposing landscape and its many meanings, starting with its timeless beauty that has inspired many painters. Once, this part of the earth's crust was part of the ocean floor; the compressed skeletons of billions of sea creatures are now mined as limestone.

In south-western Texas, elongated mountain ranges, broad valleys, prairies and deserts pass by. At the Bottom of the Sea explores this imposing landscape and its many meanings, starting with its timeless beauty that has inspired many painters. Once, this part of the earth's crust was part of the ocean floor; the compressed skeletons of billions of sea creatures are now mined as limestone.

In south-western Texas, elongated mountain ranges, broad valleys, prairies and deserts pass by. At the Bottom of the Sea explores this imposing landscape and its many meanings, starting with its timeless beauty that has inspired many painters. Once, this part of the earth's crust was part of the ocean floor; the compressed skeletons of billions of sea creatures are now mined as limestone.

In south-western Texas, elongated mountain ranges, broad valleys, prairies and deserts pass by. At the Bottom of the Sea explores this imposing landscape and its many meanings, starting with its timeless beauty that has inspired many painters. Once, this part of the earth's crust was part of the ocean floor; the compressed skeletons of billions of sea creatures are now mined as limestone.

In south-western Texas, elongated mountain ranges, broad valleys, prairies and deserts pass by. At the Bottom of the Sea explores this imposing landscape and its many meanings, starting with its timeless beauty that has inspired many painters. Once, this part of the earth's crust was part of the ocean floor; the compressed skeletons of billions of sea creatures are now mined as limestone.

Tells the story of mushroom pickers who, in the summer and autumn months head, to the southern Carpathians of Romania to begin their search. Far from being a leisure activity, for many of the pickers this is a main source of income which they and their families rely on to get by. In makeshift campsites, they spend months between dense coniferous forests and the Transalpina road, where they sell the gathered mushrooms to passing tourists or people on weekend breaks. The majority of their harvest is taken by intermediaries, who sell the mushrooms abroad for many times the price.

Darío Aguirre moved from Ecuador to Germany to be with Stephanie, but from the very first day there was a third party in their relationship:the government. They issued him ten visas in fifteen years. A long trail of papers, stamps, permits, and restrictions connected Darío to Germany while also keeping him at a distance. Then one fine day the mayor of Hamburg invites Darío to become a German citizen. A confession of love? Darío responds with a tender, ironic road movie that traces his intertwined journey from the country of his fathers to the country of his children.

A person enters the frame dressed up as a bird. In a dressing room, John Malkovich sheds the costume of Casanova. A young woman's skirt is just as orange as the beak of a zebra finch singing in a cage. White lilies stand at the foot of a statue of the Virgin Mary, red roses in front of the window of an SM studio. There the quiet game of submission in exchange for money, in a museum an embrace, a poem whispered in the ear. Children playing in a forest in autumn. A forest in summer, framed by light. An orgasm and a dance.

The first day of the holidays at the campsite. Mimi wants to make friends with the other children, Karl wants to go swimming with the crocodile, Dad’s hungry and Mum left the sandwiches on the kitchen table. All of a sudden, the caretaker’s little rabbit Fernando goes missing. Not until the medieval tourists arrive does a sense of order return. One thing is for sure: the world is in turmoil.

The old paternal house of the Le family, set in a rural scenery at the fringes of the small town of Ninh Hoa, close to the southern coast of Vietnam: A household dominated by women, neither rich nor poor, with chicken behind the kitchen and rice paddies bordering the plot. Through the everyday life of the inhabitants of the house, the constellation of the extended family becomes visible. A constellation that is fundamentally marked by the course that history took in the second half of the 20th century, and that has made Germany a substantial reference point in the life of the Le family.

The contents of a black briefcase lead us into a superficially well-ordered life in West Germany in 1970, in a city that can be seen as representative of the entire country. In this briefcase: the meticulous documentation of an affair between the small business owner Hans and his secretary Monika.

Gerti Gerbert was photographed by her husband Eugen over a period spanning more than forty years. Besides the obligatory family photographs, from their wedding day until his death Eugen took countless pictures of Gerti: in her underwear, in homemade summer frocks, or completely naked; on the beach, in the woods, in the car, or on the floor at home. Using the Gerberts’ picture archive, interviews with Gerti, and Eugen’s notes, the film looks at what remains of life and love at the end.

Gerti Gerbert was photographed by her husband Eugen over a period spanning more than forty years. Besides the obligatory family photographs, from their wedding day until his death Eugen took countless pictures of Gerti: in her underwear, in homemade summer frocks, or completely naked; on the beach, in the woods, in the car, or on the floor at home. Using the Gerberts’ picture archive, interviews with Gerti, and Eugen’s notes, the film looks at what remains of life and love at the end.

Gerti Gerbert was photographed by her husband Eugen over a period spanning more than forty years. Besides the obligatory family photographs, from their wedding day until his death Eugen took countless pictures of Gerti: in her underwear, in homemade summer frocks, or completely naked; on the beach, in the woods, in the car, or on the floor at home. Using the Gerberts’ picture archive, interviews with Gerti, and Eugen’s notes, the film looks at what remains of life and love at the end.