Šimon Dvořáček

A wealthy middle-aged man at the airport witnesses a tiny incident involving an unknown, perhaps Arab, young man and airport staff. After the young man is confronted directly at the airport toilets, he feels himself subject to an indefinable but increasingly serious sense of danger. The fear of the evil that had, as it were, encircled the man since then, gradually becomes an obsession. The urgent desire to see the evil, to confront it and destroy it.

Even after more than 25 years since the dreadful war crimes had been taking place in former Yugoslavia, this tragic history is far from over – be it for the victims’ families, conflicting nations or for a Czech investigator who comes back to the region to carry on in his work after so many years. The documentary return voyage follows not only the paths of fleeing war criminals, but is driven by an effort to capture a part of the ethic mission of the then newly formed International Criminal Court in The Hague along, in its double nature: based on an independent investigation of war crimes, to strive for reconciliation in cases of multifarious ethnic, national and other conflicts.

Orion, Vladimir 518 and Mike Trafik are Peneři strýčka Homeboye (Uncle Homeboy’s Hoboes). Three lads from Prague, legendary rappers on the cusp of middle age, friends. Graffiti, the first attempts at rap, parties, fame, booze and drugs. Sky-rocketing popularity (but well-earned), downfalls, crises and comebacks. A cleverly shot, incisive triple portrait that flouts all the taboos.

The Hanuliaks, a couple from Slovakia, have decided to bring up their son according to Kamevéda, a complex approach to developing the child’s motor abilities and intellect. Unique in its depth of focus, this reflection on child-rearing documents a year in the life of four-year-old Miško, where not a minute is wasted since there is no room for boredom and moments of rest are merely preparation for the next achievement.

Láďa is always joking. Petr has his own incomprehensible dictionary. Jana seeks a partner via a dating service. They are linked through their joy in music and their involvement in the group founded more than 20 years ago by bandmaster Šimon Ornest. Strictly, almost despotically, without pity but with great energy and understanding, he not only leads his musicians to a place on the music scene but is also their support and friend.

A man follows a group of workers coming for daywork in an industrial area. Soon, he’s stripped from his clothes and identity, dressed in a military uniform and armed. His determination not to fall behind the others is then tested by a series of unsettling events.

As if directing a science-fiction film, Johana Ožvold dissects the story of electronic music. From the pioneer sound engineers working behind the Iron Curtain, through the French avant-garde composers, up to the post-modern creators of digital sonic artefacts, the first-time filmmaker summons an abstract landscape that is haunting and yet achingly beautiful. A voice appears from old television screens forgotten in the maze of some futuristic archive where past and future seem to coexist in a complex and multi-layered way.

When the junior ice hockey team from the small town of Náchod, in the Czech Republic, sets off in a bus to Morocco to play the away game in an exchange programme, the players and their coach expect an easy victory and a cultural shock: “bring ear plugs”, the coach suggests them with a touch of undisguised condescendence, so as not to hear the call to prayer early in the morning. Both on and off the ice, Rozálie Kohoutová and Tomáš Bojar’s camera focuses on a few teenagers and their exchanges, simultaneously funny and cruel, in a clumsy English.

Olda, a seventeen-year-old teenager, awaits his trial in a detention center for juveniles. There, he tries to fill the void of prison’s monotony and reminisces about the brutal assault he committed on a homeless man, that resulted in his death. However, his memory is just as imperfect and incomplete as the effort to understand his unreasonable violence.

A kidnapped bride. A distraught hero. Odysseys through surreal worlds. Menandros and Thaïs are freshly married, but the wedding day ends bloodily. Thaïs is abducted by pirates. Searching for her, the bridegroom becomes a bloodthirsty monster, his horse grows wings, a witch promises him to another woman, King Xerxes unmans him, but everything comes to an happy end. Or does it?

A surprisingly intimate portrait of how the dream of running one’s own business can take on monstrous contours. Managed by the father of one of the singers, over the course of five years the girl band 5Angels had reached the gates of pop fame. But it is a path paved not only with the songs of Michal David, but also with the dogged determination of a man who loses any notion of where his role as manager ends and his role as parent begins. An emotionally moved Karel Gott, five angelic girls, and one overly involved father, thanks to whom the behind-the-scenes pre-Christmas atmosphere melts away just as rapidly as the fat should disappear from the belly. “A singer can’t be a lard bucket!”