Veronika Janečková

The film takes place on the eighth day of Russia's war campaign in Ukraine. Eight Ukrainians residing in the Czech Republic – a businesswoman, cleaning ladies, construction workers, and bus drivers – make their own diary-like observations of the events in their homeland. They continue to bury themselves in their work, unable to afford to withdraw themselves from their current lives. In their minds, however, they've transported themselves hundreds of kilometers away, helping their fellow countrymen and women by any means necessary. They provide accommodation for refugees, scout for bulletproof vests, and call their loved ones who’ve taken shelter from falling bombs. They have a hectic and emotionally overwhelming 24 hours ahead of them. But it’s not the first 24 hours and it won’t be the last.

Aren't the deformed images of Marx which we often come across in the Czech Republic, a manifestation of the fact that we have not yet come to terms with the communist regime, asks Michael Hauser, philosophy lecturer from the Charles University in Prague. Filmmakers took his question and transformed it into a film. They followed a protest with their camera, they caught Slovenian philosophy bear Slavoj Zizek in a Prague archway. For those, who might get bored, they used colorful filters. Besides that, they invited a rat to participate, an animal that knows how to listen.

The generation conflict present in the daily disputes of a grandmother and granddaughter, the film director, lead to her decision to leave; the compact images of the gradual moving out of the house, bound by place and time, and the long, agonizing dialogues become a basis for the cruelly intimate documentary within private reality, where feelings mingle with reproach; and where, despite mutual blame, nobody is guilty, as the captured situation is accompanied by nothing but misunderstanding.

The generation conflict present in the daily disputes of a grandmother and granddaughter, the film director, lead to her decision to leave; the compact images of the gradual moving out of the house, bound by place and time, and the long, agonizing dialogues become a basis for the cruelly intimate documentary within private reality, where feelings mingle with reproach; and where, despite mutual blame, nobody is guilty, as the captured situation is accompanied by nothing but misunderstanding.

The generation conflict present in the daily disputes of a grandmother and granddaughter, the film director, lead to her decision to leave; the compact images of the gradual moving out of the house, bound by place and time, and the long, agonizing dialogues become a basis for the cruelly intimate documentary within private reality, where feelings mingle with reproach; and where, despite mutual blame, nobody is guilty, as the captured situation is accompanied by nothing but misunderstanding.

The generation conflict present in the daily disputes of a grandmother and granddaughter, the film director, lead to her decision to leave; the compact images of the gradual moving out of the house, bound by place and time, and the long, agonizing dialogues become a basis for the cruelly intimate documentary within private reality, where feelings mingle with reproach; and where, despite mutual blame, nobody is guilty, as the captured situation is accompanied by nothing but misunderstanding.

The generation conflict present in the daily disputes of a grandmother and granddaughter, the film director, lead to her decision to leave; the compact images of the gradual moving out of the house, bound by place and time, and the long, agonizing dialogues become a basis for the cruelly intimate documentary within private reality, where feelings mingle with reproach; and where, despite mutual blame, nobody is guilty, as the captured situation is accompanied by nothing but misunderstanding.