Sylvia Baan

When he sees members of the audience crying while he’s performing his dance, Xavi is a bit disappointed. If they’re crying because they’re moved by his dancing as an art form, that’s fine. But if it’s out of pity because he’s in a wheelchair, they can “fuck off.” A similar attitude can be detected in Jos de Putter and Clara van Gool’s portrait of the Catalan dance collective Liant la Troca, whose members include people with a physical disability. One by one, they spotlight some of these intriguing personalities.

Every love, no matter how happy, sooner or later ends unhappily; either due to loss, due to death, or due to a broken bond. These are all sides of the same medal. Why do we love others if love can hurt us so much? Wouldn’t it be safer not to love? In this documentary, several people who have been profoundly confronted with love and death in their lives, provide glimpses of the enigma of love, based on their personal stories. On Freud’s famous couch, they are questioned about their experiences. Their stories are interwoven with timeless works from the history of painting and music. When words are not adequate, there is art and music.

The relationship between the humans and animals at a large animal shelter in the Netherlands is one of extremes. On the one hand, this is a place for new opportunities, where both parties can find unconditional love. On the other, the problem cases lead to despair among their caregivers, who have to face the limitations of the system in which they work.

Роберт Соко, бывший беженец из Югославии, ставший музыкантом, путешествует по Европе в поисках связей с музыкой нового поколения беженцев.

Based on the struggle of young people in Goma (Northeastern Congo) against the prevailing Western reporting about war and misery, Stop Filming Us investigates how these Western stereotypes are the result of a skewed balance of power. Stop Filming Us creates a cinematic dialogue between Western perceptions and the Congolese experience of reality. While the Congolese perspective becomes increasingly clearer in the film, questions arise about the perspective of the film itself; is a white director able to make a film about the new Congolese image or is it primarily a story created by his own Western perspective?

"Everything in me said I had to do it." Martin de Vries decides, without any preparation worth mentioning, to walk the Camino, the famous pilgrims’ way to Santiago de Compostela. From Le Puy-en-Velay in central France to north-west Spain; a journey of 1,600 kilometres, taking almost 70 days. He films himself while walking – his feet, his shadow, the path, the fields and woods – and tries to get to the bottom of why he set out on this adventure.