Kyriaki Tsitsa

Películas

Not Tomorrow
Production Design
Michalis has barely 24 hours to redefine his life and make up for his close ones. That same night he meets a girl. He only wishes that the morning never comes.
11.20 a.m.
Production Design
Olga, a domestic worker originally from Albania, finds herself in a house she works in downtown Athens, at the right time. Or at the wrong one?
Umbrella
Production Design
An umbrella protects from the rain, but also gets people together.
Canino
Assistant Costume Designer
Un matrimonio con tres hijos vive en una mansión en las afueras de una ciudad. Los chicos, que nunca han salido de casa, son educados según los métodos que sus padres juzgan más apropiados y sin recibir ninguna influencia del exterior. Creen que los aviones son juguetes o que el mar es un tipo de silla forrada de cuero. La única persona que puede entrar en la casa es Christine, guardia de seguridad en la fábrica del padre.
Valse Sentimentale
Costume Design
Constantina Voulgaris’s first feature film is a delightful anomaly in contemporary cinema, sort of like a Cat Power song. Raw, earnest, melancholy, awkward in parts, razor sharp in others, it's lyrical, yet with an undercutting touch of offbeat humor. And more than anything it's unapologetically a girl's bedroom song, an utterly sincere home movie. Made with the ever-generous currency of a cast and crew of friends, and the ample downtime that Greek summer-in-the-city affords, when everybody else is sunning and hooking up out in the islands, it's a film about two exiles -- in Athens, in summer, in love. A sentimental dance between a girl and a boy who could be stuck in downtown any-ville, yearning to be with each other but too cool to dare, too chicken to admit it, too clumsy not to step on each other's Doc Martens, and too damn sentimental not to surrender, in the end, to that old-fashioned thing called love.
Valse Sentimentale
Set Decoration
Constantina Voulgaris’s first feature film is a delightful anomaly in contemporary cinema, sort of like a Cat Power song. Raw, earnest, melancholy, awkward in parts, razor sharp in others, it's lyrical, yet with an undercutting touch of offbeat humor. And more than anything it's unapologetically a girl's bedroom song, an utterly sincere home movie. Made with the ever-generous currency of a cast and crew of friends, and the ample downtime that Greek summer-in-the-city affords, when everybody else is sunning and hooking up out in the islands, it's a film about two exiles -- in Athens, in summer, in love. A sentimental dance between a girl and a boy who could be stuck in downtown any-ville, yearning to be with each other but too cool to dare, too chicken to admit it, too clumsy not to step on each other's Doc Martens, and too damn sentimental not to surrender, in the end, to that old-fashioned thing called love.