Marta Dauliute

The documentary filmmakers Marta Dauliute and Viktorija Šiaulyte step into the closed-in collective with as much curiosity as much-needed skepticism. Here, capital is synonymous with the individual’s ability, and innovation is the confounding keyword. At the same time, we get to know those who rent a little “pod” that barely offers space for a bed and desk, raising questions about how the entrepreneurial ideology affects us as people. Good Life reflects on a modern phenomenon, where community has become the product of a company, but which at the same time reminds us of other collectives from a completely different time.

We follow a maternity group for a year. Parents and babies who are put together in groups of the health station and who meet at each other's home and eat lunch. Some of them have big plans. They will buy and sell property. Some are concerned about doing things right. Can babies eat cucumbers? What about cheese?

An office gets furnished. Shelves, chairs and a projector. Then it's filled with people who practice pitching sales at each other over the phone.

Two Swedish directors set off for Greece to find out how the local residents feel about the media images of the crisis.

'Do you feel cheaper?' We are filming young Lithuanian men working in Sweden. They do not want to be caught on camera, they do not want to participate in creating yet another media image of guilt and pity. They film us. We empty a bottle of moonshine, we dance on their porch. They might let us film them tomorrow. Second Class is a time document about class, respect, the value of work and human being.

'Do you feel cheaper?' We are filming young Lithuanian men working in Sweden. They do not want to be caught on camera, they do not want to participate in creating yet another media image of guilt and pity. They film us. We empty a bottle of moonshine, we dance on their porch. They might let us film them tomorrow. Second Class is a time document about class, respect, the value of work and human being.

'Do you feel cheaper?' We are filming young Lithuanian men working in Sweden. They do not want to be caught on camera, they do not want to participate in creating yet another media image of guilt and pity. They film us. We empty a bottle of moonshine, we dance on their porch. They might let us film them tomorrow. Second Class is a time document about class, respect, the value of work and human being.

'Do you feel cheaper?' We are filming young Lithuanian men working in Sweden. They do not want to be caught on camera, they do not want to participate in creating yet another media image of guilt and pity. They film us. We empty a bottle of moonshine, we dance on their porch. They might let us film them tomorrow. Second Class is a time document about class, respect, the value of work and human being.

'Do you feel cheaper?' We are filming young Lithuanian men working in Sweden. They do not want to be caught on camera, they do not want to participate in creating yet another media image of guilt and pity. They film us. We empty a bottle of moonshine, we dance on their porch. They might let us film them tomorrow. Second Class is a time document about class, respect, the value of work and human being.

They go sledging behind a car. They earn extra by fixing the roof of a neighbor's house. They are young and want to fulfill their dreams, but before them an uncertain future prevails. We are there as one of them, equally present, equally absent.

They go sledging behind a car. They earn extra by fixing the roof of a neighbor's house. They are young and want to fulfill their dreams, but before them an uncertain future prevails. We are there as one of them, equally present, equally absent.

They go sledging behind a car. They earn extra by fixing the roof of a neighbor's house. They are young and want to fulfill their dreams, but before them an uncertain future prevails. We are there as one of them, equally present, equally absent.

Three unconnected scenes; each a study of betrayed friendships, too much alcohol, the hurtful exercise of power. Somewhere in Sweden, sometime in June.

Three unconnected scenes; each a study of betrayed friendships, too much alcohol, the hurtful exercise of power. Somewhere in Sweden, sometime in June.

Three unconnected scenes; each a study of betrayed friendships, too much alcohol, the hurtful exercise of power. Somewhere in Sweden, sometime in June.