FRED Film Radio interviewed actor Taylor John Smith at the Taormina Film Festival 2025 to discuss “Warfare”, which was screened out of competition. A true story brought to the big screen One of the most interesting aspects of “Warfare” is its ability to put the viewer directly into the heart of the action to show, in the most honest and truthful way possible, its brutality. "The goal of this film wasn't to make war beautiful, nor to make it cinematic", says Taylor John Smith. "We wanted to put the audience in that room with those soldiers and let them experience the war moment by moment, as it unfolded. The entire film is made up of 90 minutes of real-time scenes. There's no soundtrack to evoke emotion. Everything was shot chronologically, so we actors were able to experience each scene as it unfolded, just as the audience would". Intense physical preparation Featuring a constantly active ensemble cast, “Warfare” is also a film to be admired for its technical complexity and ambitious staging. "We went through a three-and-a-half-week boot camp to prepare for the military aspect, speaking on the radio, handling weapons, learning to shoot, move as a team, and communicate", recalls Taylor John Smith. "They had cameras that floated from room to room, so I could be in one room filming my scene while the camera was in another part of the house. So we were all acting simultaneously. At any moment, if the camera came in, you didn't have to wait for your shot; you were already there, which was really nice for an actor because it allowed you to be immersed". The different approaches of Alex Garland and Ray Mendoza What was it like for the actor and his colleagues to be directed by two directors on set? "Alex was definitely more involved with the technical side, where to place the camera, which shots to choose, and which lenses to use for a given scene", underlines Taylor John Smith. "But as far as the acting went, it was all Ray Mendoza, because he had been there. He knew exactly what these guys were thinking at any given moment, and his wisdom and breadth and depth of knowledge were impeccable. We really appreciated his ability to tell you exactly what he was thinking at any given moment".

At the Rome Film Fest 2024, Teemu Nikki, alongside actresses Elina Knihlä and Pirjo Lonka, talk about their heartfelt dark comedy, "100 Litres of Gold". The film, set in rural Finland, follows two sisters whose legendary homemade beer, sahti, leads to a chain of hilarious and chaotic events. Sahti: A Disappearing Heritage “I’m from that culture. My family has made sahti,” says Nikki, explaining why this traditional brew is more than just a drink—it’s a cultural symbol. The film pays homage to a fading tradition and celebrates the strong identity of small Finnish communities. Laughter as a Tool for Reflection “As long as there is laughter, there is hope,” says Nikki, describing his passion for black comedy. Though filled with absurd and comedic moments, "100 Litres of Gold" also addresses personal trauma and emotional resilience. “I laugh at the things I'm scared of,” he adds. Real Chemistry On and Off Screen Elina and Pirjo’s performances are rooted in real-life friendship. “We’ve known each other since we were 13 years old,” they reveal. “This is the first time we’re acting as sisters—it was a huge pleasure.” That natural bond brings authenticity and warmth to their on-screen relationship. Writing Women with Integrity Nikki script gives space to two complex, flawed, and hilarious women who carry the film with heart and grit. "Some directors say that it's so hard to write a good script for women," says Lonka, adding, "But he just did it because you don't have to write the woman at all. There is just the person or character, then it happens." "100 Litres of Gold", directed by Teemu Nikki and starring Elina Knihlä and Pirjo Lonka, opens in Italian cinemas on July 17 with I Wonder Pictures.

Mexican director Michel Franco was in Karlovy Vary to present his Berlin-premiered, latest film, "Dreams", where Jessica Chastain (already starring, in a diametrically opposite role, in his previous movie, "Memory") plays a rich American woman who enjoys an affair with an enamoured, talented, and undocumented young Mexican ballet dancer (Isaác Hernández) whom she doesn't seem able to really let into her wealthy benefactress world. It seems difficult not to immediately consider "Dreams" within the context the filmmaker's body of work, for however very distinctive each new film he makes always is, since his petrifying debut "Daniel & Ana" (2009), each one also adds new layers and complexities to his often merciless and calmly drastic oeuvre, which makes it a rather vertiginous echo chamber. One of the many things "Dreams" brings in is, with Fernando, 'a strong character [who] loves [Jessica Chastain's character], but he's got dignity, so if the relationship is not on equal terms, he's not interested in being with her. And of course I'm Mexican so in a way, I wanted to build a character who is full of dignity, and talented and brave, but also a real character who, at some point in the film, makes mistakes.' We discuss the irreconcilable distances between Jennifer and Fernando, and especially her inability to escape the vertical, exploitative system of relationships she is used to, and confortable in, which makes her unable to relate to him, as an individual, on an even plainfield. Asked about the house in this film (houses being one of the spaces he likes to explore in his films), Franco also underlines the strict divide between private and public life Chastain's character never manages to abolish, and suggests that despite her maintained aloofness, she is 'lonely and sad' living this 'double life', being unable to break away from a privileged world where, when all is said and done, she does not really have 'her own voice, and she's bossed around by the men in her family.' Following this argument in 'defense' of a character whose radical act of betrayal seems nevertheless unforgivable, echoing other immoral, despicable deeds in Franco filmography, whether collective – like in the Cannes-awarded, gripping "After Lucia" (2012) or, very differently, "New Order" (2020), which floored its first viewers in Venice and bagged the Grand Jury Prize – or individual – "April's Daughter" vividly comes to mind –, the conversation veers towards the satisfying quality, for the viewer, of revenge as a response to such foul acts in many of Franco's films. Answering a question about the fact that a viewer's mind struggles to even conceive the inhumanity and violence (physical or other) often depicted in them, so inexorable it sometimes eclipses the tenderness and kindness also present in his stories – for instance in "Chronic" (2015) and "Sundown" (2021), both starring Tim Roth –, so much so that it tends to want this violence to be purely fictional and hypothetical, Michel Franco is categorical: what he is interested in portraying is, 'unfortunately, the reality of the world.'  'Some people have absolute freedom [...], but most people don’t enjoy these privileges. That’s the world, and I think that’s why people are upset everywhere, because of the social disparity. There are A class citizens [and] people having nothing, not even the minimum rights guaranteed. In the case of Mexico and the States, it’s very dramatic, because we see that on a huge border, and Mexico is treated like a backyard, and immigrants and Mexicans who support the American economy are not acknowledged and not treated in a respectful way in most cases.' As it were, the strong impact of the filmmaker films may very well stem for the painful perception, on the part of the viewer, of the cruel contradiction between the evident humanism in them and this implacable lucidity, at least when it comes to a certain part of humankind. 'The films and books that interest me, always, are those which don't shy away from the dark side of human behaviour, which we can witness it without much effort: it’s everywhere, unfortunately. [...] I am more interested in a cinema that shows a little bit of who we are than in the silly fantasy of what we should be, without any true learning of who we are. [...] If we live in such a troubled world, it is because we keep failing as human beings.'

Seti loves music and singing, and she yearns for her voice to be heard. But in Iran, it is against the law for women to perform in public, and so the young girl decides to engage in her own personal protest. The street becomes her stage, and random passers-by become her enthusiastic audience. Her star rises. Seti becomes an idol of her generation, of young people who no longer want to live under ruthless political oppression.' (Anna Kořínek, KVIFF official website) Soheil Beiraghi's fourth feature, "Bidad", was officially the twelfth title to join the Crystal Globe Competition of the 59th Karlovy Vary IFF, as the organisers only unveiled its selection a few days before the festival, to make sure that he and the members of his crew could safely travel out of Iran, especially knowing that Beiraghi was investigated by the authorities during the shoot, also pointing out that 'Bidad was made as an independent production; otherwise, it would never have been approved by the censors because of its critical tone.' Beiraghi has been portraying strong female characters since his 2016 debut feature, bearing the ultimate self-assertive title of "I", starring Leila Hatami ("A Separation"). If this first film also had a successful national release, both "Cold Sweat" (2018), an international festival darling and a three-prize winner at the Fajr Film Festival following the captain of the Iranian women's national football team, and "Popular" (2020), on a female divorcee who wants to start a new life, were banned in Iran, the latter not even getting a public screening. The title of "Bidad", in which Seti, a young, Gen Z female singer who refuses to accept the fact that women in Iran are not allowed to sing in public defies her country’s religious laws, and starts performing in the street, refers at the same time to oppression, lament, and outcry. In our conversation with Beiraghi – who not only wrote and directed, but also co-edited and produced his film, and supervised the art department –, we discuss the image of Teheran and Iran presented in the film as opposed to the old-fashioned, lifeless notion of it the international public generally sees. Elaborating on Seti's trajectory of self-assertion, the director also underlines the universal aspect of his character's search for identity and youthful energy. The beautiful innocence of her budding friendship with the unconventional, contagiously carefree boy-who-doesn't-tell-his-name is also mentioned. Beiraghi, who intends to continue to make films no matter what restrictions he may face, also points out how Seti's need to be seen by the world reflects his own. Alef Pictures, the company through which Beiraghi produced his film, also handles international sales.

Since his debut solo feature in 2010, after a successful career in advertising and as a TV director, prolific Italian filmmaker and two-time novelist Paolo Genovese has conquered the public (and the box office) times and times again with his astute comedies gently exposing, through various high concept devices, the endearing flaws and vulnerabilities we all have, delivers another delightful crowd-pleaser where his interest in the meanders of the mind reaches new heights: "Madly" ("FolleMente", meaning 'madly' but also sounding like 'crazy minds' in its original language). The sentimental-driven comedy starring Edoardo Leo and Pilar Fogliati in the lead roles – revolving around a first date and shot in one single location, a flat –, already a resounding success in Italy, seems on its way to reiterate the prowess of his "Perfect Strangers" (2016), which holds the Guinness book world record for the most remade movie in cinema history (with 24 remakes). As Genovese was at the 59th Karlovy Vary International Film Festival to meet the public and show his new film, we took the opportunity to ask him a few questions about the origins of the project – an ad the filmmaker directed twenty years ago, followed by a 'small-budget film no one saw, unfortunately' – and how it evolved to become the feature he is presenting now. The director (also known for "The Immature", "Blame Freud", "A Perfect Family" or "The Place") describes what he perceives to be the more salient modern insecurities, and elaborates on the current popularity of psychoanalytical notions once widely rejected, also underlining the timelessness and universality of certain conflicts when it comes to the way the individual faces human connections. Genovese gives a few examples of what social media and text messaging have done to us, and how they lead to the construction of fake personae as well as reveal 'parts of the human nature we didn't really know existed.' We also ask him about his relationship with the public and the great acclaim "Madly" has received so far. On the most obvious new insecurities which have emerged in recent years What changed the most, says Paolo Genovese, since the first works in which played with the concept also at the core of "Madly", 'is the relationship between men and women', and although those changes are a good thing, this 'new balance in the couple' can be approached with irony. 'Men especially have developed insecurities. We now need to redefine our role in society, and with regards to the new role of the woman. Change has never happened faster than in the last ten years, so men are insecure' and don’t exactly know how to behave, about important things, but also more trivial, potentially funny situations, like paying at the restaurant or holding the door, and 'people relate a lot to that.' On contemplating our imperfections through a specific point of view 'People love when a movie talks about their lives, when it touches something deep and they think "Wow, I'm imperfect, but a lot of people are imperfect, this story is telling me that we are all imperfect!". And to understand how imperfect we are, we have to choose a new point of view from which no one has looked at things yet. In "Perfect Strangers", the point of view was the phone, where we put all of our secrets. This is also the fil rouge in "Madly": in "Madly", we try to understand the people as seen from one point of view: our head, our brain. It's the same as the phone: it’s where we put all our life, all our secrets. And when a movie presents a point of view which is inaccessible in real life, like your head, like your phone, it’s interesting.' On not feeling insecure himself when it comes to presenting the public with a new film 'If I am happy about my story,[I feel fine]. What is important is to have an audience, no matter how big or small it is, and when I finish a movie and I’m happy about it, I am sure there will be an audience.If it's big, it’s better, but if it’s a small one, it’s ok anyway.When you write a movie, I think you don’t have to wonder if the audience will like it. For me, an artist doesn’t have to give the audience what they knowthe audience will like: they have to give the audience something that maybe they could like, something new,something you can't be sure people will like because if you’re sure, it means that this story has already been done. If it’s new story, a new idea, a truly new idea, it is a risk, and you have to take that risk.' On meeting the public and different audiences 'I really go all around the world to festivals, for Q&As with the public, and it’s always interesting, because [it always allows you to understand how the public] feels about your story [...], and many times, they understand something that you never thought about but which is true, it's a new meaning, and so it’s interesting, especially seeing how different cultures react… With every culture, the reaction is different, and I find it very interesting to collect all these reactions to understand what, in the movie, is truly international, what everyone can understand and what is very local and Italian.'

Director, scriptwriter, and producer Laurent Slama is at the 59th Karlovy Vary International Film Festival for the European premiere of "A Second Life" amongst the Special Screenings. This deeply human and uplifting story, his third feature after "Paris Is Us" (2019) and "Roaring 20s" (2021) – filmed in one single shot in the busy streets and parks of the French capital –, which he both directed under the pseudonym of Elisabeth Vogler, takes place and was shot during the Paris 2024 Summer Olympics, outdoors amongst the events unfolding during this special moment in time. Laurent Slama tells us more about the shooting conditions, in 14 days on foot with limited crew equipped with backpacks, and about how he approaches production in general to make his extremely organic, seemingly free-flowing films. We discuss his characters, stressed out and depressed Elisabeth (Vogler, played by Agathe Rousselle, the star of "Titane") and the irresistible, pinked-haired, carefree Elijah (Alex Lawther) as well as the new perspective the latter brings, with contagious good spirits, to not only Elisabeth but also the viewer, as we are drawn into perceiving the agression of the world surrounding her, and then the relief which comes with letting go, taking things as they come, and having friends to help you when you fall. We also ask Laurent Slama about the idea of making Elisabeth hearing-impaired and creating sound design to capture how she hears the world with and without her hearing aids, in this film which indeed revolves a lot around the notion of perception, also expressed by recurring scenes shot amongst Claude Monet's Waterlilies (famously painted when cataract was already affecting his perception of colours) and mirroring shots of actual waterlilies in magnificent saturated colours.

A conversation with Brazilian director Davi Pretto about his fourth feature, “Future Future“, a visually arresting and deeply affecting dystopian film, selected in the Proxima Competition section of the 59th Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, where the past is forgotten, and the future eerily similar to the present – as a title card reveals in the beginning of the film, it was shot in Porto Alegre during the cataclysmic floods of 2024. In the film, set in a near future, markedly divided into two distinct acts set in two opposite, adjacent spaces filmed and crafted in completely different ways – between which the mind of the protagonist, K., alternates throughout the movie –, that of the poor and that of the rich, various tragedies have already happened: a virus making it impossible to form mental images and therefore to retain memories, even that of one’s own name, virus which made necessary the use of AI machines to do ‘all the work’ in lieu of the humans, but also a ‘Split’ which has isolated the hungry and poor majority experiencing the critical state of the world every day from the wealthy part of the population dwelling in the supernatural redness of cold, modern flats floating accross the tops of cities contemplating the coming apocalypse, to paraphrase the poet. On the intentions behind the project ‘We wanted to navigate through different crises that I believe we are living, these political, urbanistic, technological crises that, in some way, for me, are related. I think it’s impossible to talk about the technological crisis without talking about climate change… What I wanted to do is to put together some sort of a meditation about all these things, make the audience dive into some sort of bubble, put the audience into some sort of bubble and make them experience these things, and not only talk… well, not talk, because I don’t think the film is trying to give answers about these issues: we’re just trying to ruminate about these things.’ On the presence of AI in the film ‘AI is something we address in the film, but I decided to use AI images, I wanted to, because I think it was important not only to put the audience in front of these images, but also to give them time to really look at them, proper time – because when you watch these images online, they are quite fast. I really wanted to make something that would give the audience a space [to consider] a horror, a nightmare.’ On the striking resemblance between the reality in “Future Future” and the present ‘The title is a bit like a joke: it promises a really futuristic film, but at the end of the day, the first image that we see is the most common place in Brazil, a school, and then there is a street, and there is no element that indicates a near-future film. I think that was the goal: to really play with the audience’s expectations.‘

Greek director and musician Alexandros Voulgaris, a.k.a. The Boy, who has just world-premiered his latest work, “They Come Out of Margo“, in the Proxima Competition of the 59th Karlovy Vary Film Festival, tells us more about this undescribable, extremely rich work centered around a fictional, once prolific female composer adored by the people of Athens – born by accident after the mysterious disappearance of a sister she never met whose name she bears in shortened form – who celebrates her 40th birthday with her dearest friends in the rich universe of the flat she hasn’t left in many years. Voulgaris describes his writing process and elaborates on the seemingly dissociative, fragmented structure of the film, teeming with existential and philosophical suggestions, and how it embraces more truthfully the all-at-once complexity of daily life. We also discuss death and generativity, the elevated cinematic references present in the film, its horror-like elements as well as its uncanny lightness, and the situation of female artists in the 70s and 80s, amongst other things.

Czech director and scriptwriter Ondřej Provazník is competing for the Crystal Globe of the 59th Karlovy Vary International Film Festival with his fourth feature, "Broken Voices", inspired by the scandal of the Bambini di Praga choir, a sexual abuse case with which the director had an eery, haunting brush after the trial, reflecting the ambiguity of the reactions of the people involved towards the choirmaster even though he was indeed found guilty, almost is if he was the guru of a cult. We discuss the hints that surface and the silence that nevertheless dominates, the way Ondřej Provazník wanted to reflect the ambivalence and the toxicity of the system through his stylistic choices, the fact that beauty and cruelty often live together under the same roof, the protagonist's initial candour, her growing awareness and the importance of not making her a victim, and the attitude of Karolina's sister Lucie.

At the heart of “Son of Happiness“, a tender and moving short film by Dominik Mirecki, lies a universal story: the push and pull between protection and freedom, love and fear, and the powerful bond between a father and his son. Selected for the Future Frames – Generation NEXT of European Cinema program at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, “Son of Happiness” is more than a debut—it’s a quiet revelation. A Story Close to the Heart “It’s a story close to the heart. I think very emotional, real, and touching in my opinion,” says Mirecki as he introduces the film. In “Son of Happiness” the central character Beniamin, a young man with Down syndrome, dreams of becoming an actor. But that dream comes with a cost. His father, a constant and loving presence in his life, faces a dilemma: protect his son from the harshness of public judgment or let him pursue his passion, knowing the risks. This moral conflict is the emotional axis of the film. “If he agrees and the son tries to be an actor, he knows that in 99% he will lose. But if he says no, the boy will live all the time with the feeling that he never tried.” The Real Janek Behind the Character The inspiration for “Son of Happiness” came from a powerful encounter. Mirecki recalls watching a Polish television program called Down the Road, which followed a group of young adults with Down syndrome traveling independently. That’s where he saw Janek Skiba, the boy who would eventually star in his film. “I remember when I saw Janek, I thought, oh my God, he’s amazing. And I must make something with him.” Mirecki’s admiration is palpable. “He played in this film all emotions, in my opinion. Jokes, sarcasm—it’s very difficult even for a professional actor. And he cries. He fights with his father. I think he’s my hero.” Building Trust on Set Creating a film with both professional and non-professional actors was a challenge that Mirecki embraced fully. Working with Marek Kalita, a renowned Polish actor, and Janek Skiba required a delicate balance of structure and spontaneity. “If you work with an amateur actor, you must give him space and freedom. If he trusts you, you can do everything. Janek just plays from the heart.” Before production began, Mirecki organized rehearsals in Janek’s hometown of Gdańsk to build trust and chemistry. “We had a lot of practice—Janek, Marek, and together. Now they are friends.” That mutual respect extended to directing as well. Mirecki, who has a background in acting, brings an intuitive approach to working with performers. “Sometimes it’s better to give a simple suggestion than a 30-minute monologue about families. The most important thing is that the actors feel free. When they are open, they can also make great suggestions.” A Message Rooted in Love If there’s a central message to “Son of Happiness” Mirecki says, it’s about unconditional support. “If you have people around you who love you, you can do everything.” He shares a touching story about Janek’s father, who learned to play guitar just to teach his son—an act Mirecki calls the “definition of love.” He also draws from his own memories: “When I was 16, I acted in amateur theater. We rehearsed until 2 or 3 AM, and my mother always waited for me. She never said a word. That, for me, is love.” A Debut with Impact Being selected for Future Frames is a moment of validation for Mirecki. “It’s the biggest festival in the world. I felt that we did something amazing. This film is very important for us.” Representing Poland at Karlovy Vary is just the beginning. “It’s my first film, and I hope in the future we will meet again in the main competition.” “Son of Happiness” is more than a story about disability or dreams—it’s about recognizing the quiet power of love and the courage it takes to let someone grow. Through Janek’s deeply human performance and Mirecki’s intimate direction, the film becomes a gentle but forceful statement: freedom is an act of love

After premiering in Tribeca, where the film owed its main actresses, Andrea Riseborough and Brenda Blethyn, the Best Performance Award of the International Narrative Competition, Paul Andrew Williams' "Dragonfly" is gracing the screens of the 59th Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, amongst the Special Screenings. We met the director and scriptwriter revealed by "London to Brighton" (2006), joined by seasoned stage and screen thespian Jason Watkins (recently seen in the gripping TV series "Coma"), who plays a crucial role in this unconventional 'love story'/tragedy, for an in-depth conversation unpacking some of the many subtleties and possible readings of the film. Williams, who has since his debut authored some of the grittiest and yet most compassionate examples of British social realist cinema (also including "Cherry Tree Lane" or, more recently, "Bull"), tells us more about the setting of "Dragonfly", two cottages located next to each other, the modus operandi adopted during the shoot to observe the relationship between Elsie and her much younger neighbour Colleen, whose pitbull is the only companion she needs, the situation of the elderly and their carers, the choice of having DoP Vanessa Whyte shoot on 16 mm. Watkins and him also discuss the tremendous work done by both Blethyn and Riseborough and the many dimensions of the film. The pivotal role of Watkins' character John, Elsie's son, described by both he and Williams as 'materialistic, cynical, childish and very selfish in a very childish, unhappy way,' and the ensuing shattering of the love that had been slowly building leads to reflections on the various layers of meaning of the film and the many genres "Dragonfly" embraces. On the beautiful reciprocity of Elsie and Colleen's relationship P.A.W: 'For me, they both provide something for each other: it’s something really important to be wanted and to be needed, and to have a value. What Colleen gets through her relationship with Elsie is a value, because what she is doing is valued by Elsie, very much so, and that’s a really beautiful thing, to feel like you’re necessary for somebody. And Elsie, she’s getting [...] companionship. [...] So I love watching them. They really value each other'. On accessing intimacy without being intrusive P.A.W: 'The idea was always to try and just observe these characters. We didn’t do loads and loads of cuts and loads and loads of coverage. The idea was to just see them interact, see what their day is like, just to build up a view of their relationship. It was important to observe these two characters just at ease in their life, and to not be trying too hard as a director, and as actors and as the writer… not over-egging it for the audience and let them discover them, take their time to see what they do. And then you get to know them.' Jason Watkins on the incredible writing of the characters 'You can see the film on lots of different levels. It’s an incredible character study, in what people called a thriller! If this is a thriller, how many thrillers can you see with characters that are so detailed?!'

German director Simon Schneckenburger is taking part to the 8th edition of the Future Frames Program at the 59th Karlovy Vary Film Festival with his short film "Skin on Skin". With the Future Frames Program for talented young directors, the European Film Promotion EFP takes ten outstanding film school graduates from throughout Europe to the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival (Czech Republic). The directors get the chance to present their short films to the international industry and the public at the prestigious A-list film festival. "Skin on Skin" has been screened at top short film festivals such as Vienna Shorts FF, where it won the audience award, Brussels Short Film Festival and  Busan International Short FF and now it is landing an A-list Festival as KVIFF. The film is about a love story set in the most unexpected and inhospitable environment ever, a slaughterhouse and it explores the possibility that love, tenderness and passion can still come out in the worst situations. Starring Jonas Smulders as Jakob and Jurij Drevensek as Boris, the film relies on their chemistry and evokes different films with its delicate but passionate approach, such as "Pride and Prejudice" by Joe Wright or "Call me by your name" by Luca Guadagnino.

Catalan director Nausica Serra is taking part to the 8th edition of the Future Frames Program at the 59th Karlovy Vary Film Festival with her short film "Dissection of an incoherence in Crisis".  With the Future frames program for talented young directors, the European Film Promotion EFP takes ten outstanding film school graduates from throughout Europe to the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival (Czech Republic). The directors get the chance to present their short films to the international industry and the public at the prestigious A-list film festival. "Dissection of an incoherence in Crisis" delves into the human inability to accept the superiority of others by showing the interactions between three girls playing together and their parents arguing/ discussing the route for a road trip. Nausica Serra shows us a world in which behaviors are inherited faster than genes, especially the inability to manage envy and ego, as seen in the two central characters, Aran, the youngest daughter, and Artur, her father.

In her dazzling and original short film “Karaokiss“, Belgian director Mila Ryngaert brings to life a vibrant, surreal world where emotions are expressed not only through words but through music, fantasy, and the glow of a disco ball. Selected for the Future Frames – Generation NEXT of European Cinema at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, the film tells the story of Lucette, a quiet 20-year-old working in a karaoke bar, where her only constant companion is a fairy determined to help her navigate life, love, and self-expression. A Love Story Told Through Music and Metaphor “It’s a love story in a karaoke with a fairy,” says Ryngaert when asked to introduce her film. “Karaokiss” is a musical short, filmed in French, where the return of a long-lost lover turns Lucette’s world upside down. The karaoke setting is not just a backdrop; it becomes a central metaphor for self-expression and vulnerability. “That’s one of the only places where you can just go on stage and sing your own life… without anyone judging you,” Ryngaert reflects. The karaoke bar serves as both a physical and emotional stage where Lucette confronts her fears and desires. Initially quiet and reserved, Lucette finds her voice through the music, sometimes quite literally voiced by her ever-present fairy companion. For Ryngaert, this contrast between internal inhibition and external performance is at the core of the story: “In real life, it’s much more like your own inhibitions and fears that can make a relationship not work.” The Fairy: A Voice, A Conscience, A Character A standout feature of the film is its magical realist tone, embodied by the presence of the fairy. Far from being just a fantastical flourish, the fairy is deeply symbolic. “I think we all have a fairy in our heads,” Ryngaert explains. Originally imagined as an inner voice, the fairy was transformed into a physical character to visually capture the psychological forces that shape Lucette’s choices. Creating that contrast on screen required delicate and layered direction. “It was really complicated to direct, like do nothing,” she says of working with Agathe, who plays Lucette. “She had to be really quiet, really calm.” Meanwhile, the actress playing the fairy had to learn to be expressive without taking emotional center stage: “I don’t have any proper emotions—I’m just there to talk for someone,” she recalled the actress saying. A Musical from the Ground Up Karaokiss is more than a story—it’s a fully realized musical universe, built from the ground up with original songs created before the film even secured funding. Ryngaert’s passion for the musical genre is palpable, and she cites influences such as Jacques Demy (The Young Girls of Rochefort, Donkey Skin) and Olivier Ducastel and Jacques Martineau, whose experimental approach to musicals inspired her. “The songs were actually on the script,” she reveals. “And like you can have like the script and then you can just like click on the link and have the songs already made.” Each moment in the film is built around a unique musical tone, echoing her desire to give every scene a distinct emotional rhythm and style. “Every song is in a different musical style,” she explains, ensuring that each scene feels emotionally specific and sonically unique. Creating a Dreamlike but Tactile World Building the dreamy, saturated, yet intimate feel of the film took close collaboration with a tight-knit creative team. Ryngaert worked with two cinematographers, Manuel Canfran and Ilona Marbot, both longtime friends. “They have this ability that when I say something crazy, they make it happen,” she says with gratitude. The editing process was equally collaborative and instinctual. Her editor, Morgan Crenn, quickly understood the vision: “When I said something kind of crazy, she was like, ‘Yeah, okay, let’s do it,’” Mila remembers. This trust allowed for a seamless blend of magic, emotion, and visual cohesion. Future Frames: A Platform for Growth For Mila Ryngaert, being selected for Future Frames is a significant milestone both personally and professionally. As a young filmmaker, she’s especially eager to connect with the other nine directors in the program. “It can be quite a solitary experience to be a young director,” she admits. “I’m happy to have the chance to talk with others who are living the same fears, the same questions.” When asked what she wants viewers to take from the film, Ryngaert says simply: “Maybe to be less hard on themselves.” “Karaokiss” may sparkle with disco lights and musical flair, but at its heart lies a profound message about fear, vulnerability, and the courage to reconnect with others and with ourselves.

January, the deeply moving short by Jetske Lieber, premieres in the Future Frames section of the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, a program spotlighting the next generation of European filmmakers. A raw and tender portrait of post-breakup identity and quiet emotional repair, "January" follows Willem, a young man navigating heartbreak, friendship, and selfhood in the coldest month of the year. Lieber’s film is a celebration of subtlety, queerness, and the small relationships that carry us when romantic love fails. January: More Than Just a Month “January is the worst month to break up,” Lieber admits, reflecting on the inspiration behind the film. Originally intended to be a summer story, Januarywas forced to embrace the cold, both literally and metaphorically, after production requirements led to a winter shoot. “It’s also a feeling — cold, blue, still.” The film follows Willem, freshly out of a relationship, trying to make sense of his life by reconnecting with friends, housemates, and his parents. “We really see him being like an extra in his own life, trying to get the main character role back,” says Lieber. A Study in Quiet Heartbreak Willem is portrayed with aching vulnerability by Bram Flick, an actor Lieber directed with incredible sensitivity. “He doesn't say a lot in the film. All the people around him talk, so he had to express everything physically — with his body and face,” she explains. Connection Beyond Romance At its core, "January" is about more than heartbreak. It’s about how we rebuild ourselves through non-romantic relationships. “When I broke up, I realized I’d been focusing on just one relationship. And then I saw how many different kinds of love can save you,” Lieber says. Whether it’s friendship, family, or simply sharing space with others, the film shows how healing is communal. “Romantic love can be intense and overanalyzed, but friendships can be light and humbling,” she adds. This quiet embrace of platonic intimacy is what gives January its emotional gravity. An Actor’s Director Lieber’s past experience as an actor shaped the approach on set. “It’s very vulnerable to act, especially with a crew watching. I never forget that,” she says. “I give my actors long takes. I want them to own the scene.” Her direction is deeply actor-centered, prioritizing authenticity over technical perfection. What Jetske Lieber Hopes Audiences Take Away “Even the smallest steps can keep you walking,” Lieber says. January doesn't offer a neatly tied resolution, but something better: hope. “It’s okay not to know who you are in a couple of weeks or months or even years.” She hopes viewers will recognise something of themselves in Willem — and feel understood. Future Frames: A Platform for Emerging Voices Being selected for Future Frames is a dream come true for "Lieber". “It can be quite intense to be a young director, but this platform lets us be real directors for the first time,” she says. Meeting peers from across Europe and sharing her work with new audiences marks an exciting chapter in her filmmaking journey. With "January", Jetske Lieber delivers a deeply personal and understated story of heartbreak, identity, and quiet connection. It's a film that lingers — not because it shouts, but because it listens. As she puts it, “If Willem can handle January, maybe we all can.”

At the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, Finnish filmmaker Veera Lamminpää presents her poetic stop-motion short "Fish River Anthology" as part of the Future Frames: Generation NEXT of European Cinema program. This lyrical and surreal animated musical follows a group of dead fish in a supermarket as they reflect on life, death, and their own value. A Musical Lament in the Supermarket Aisle In "Fish River Anthology"  Veera Lamminpää turns a mundane grocery store into a stage for existential musings and absurd elegance. Set in the cold, fluorescent-lit fish counter of a supermarket, her characters are fish — freshly caught, already dead, yet bursting with thoughts and songs. “It’s a stop-motion animation musical that’s set in a supermarket,” Lamminpää says. “People are lining up to get their fish, and the fish are waiting to get picked up.” The idea, she explains, came from a surreal moment of reflection in the grocery store. “They are clearly dead, but they’re very fresh. So they must have been swimming just a few moments ago… Then you go down the rabbit hole of existential thinking — or at least I do.” Humor Meets Melancholy in the Cold Counter Balancing the absurd and the profound, "Fish River Anthology" invites audiences to laugh, wonder, and reflect. Lamminpää believes humor is essential to navigating even the darkest thoughts. “I think there is no situation in life where there is no humor, no matter how sad or profound it is,” she says. “You can find beauty in negative emotions, even if they’re not something you wish to feel.” Through song and stylized movement, her film becomes a melancholic elegy and a comedy of the absurd — a reminder that even the forgotten have something to say. Why Stop Motion? A Medium of Freedom Lamminpää embraced stop motion for this project, both for its expressive potential and its practicality. “I thought it would be very different from live action, but it wasn’t. It was the same, just frame by frame,” she notes. “You’re not limited by reality — you can do whatever you want.” Working with recycled materials and a small team of student collaborators, she created a richly textured world on a minimal budget: “It was a very budget-friendly option. We could do more with less.” Songs of the Sea: Music as Emotional Core The musical dimension of"Fish River Anthology" came to life through a close collaboration with Finnish composer  Iiti Yli-Harja, known for her love of the ocean and its creatures. “I wrote the lyrics, and we talked about references,” Lamminpää recalls. “Then I got this beautiful demo in my email… I just started crying because I thought it was perfect.” The film’s soundtrack serves not only as narrative but as emotional anchor, turning the inner lives of fish into hauntingly beautiful songs. More Than Just Fish Lamminpää hopes that audiences walk away with a deeper sense of connection, not only to the food we eat, but also to one another. “Everyone and everything that has been alive at some point has a story, memories, and a purpose in life,” she says. “That relates to the strangers we meet, but also the food we consume — not just animals, but also plants and everything.” This awareness permeates the film, giving voice to the voiceless and prompting viewers to reflect on the value we assign to life. Future Frames: A Platform for New Voices Being selected for Future Frames is a meaningful milestone for Lamminpää, as she transitions from student to professional filmmaker. “It means a lot. The film industry needs new voices. But it’s not easy for young filmmakers to make themselves known,” she says. “Future Frames and Karlovy Vary are doing a great job of keeping the industry alive and refreshing it with new talent.” What’s Next for Veera Lamminpää? Lamminpää is currently working on multiple new projects, including a sci-fi satire and a hybrid stop-motion/live-action film. “I wanted to combine puppetry and stop motion with live action. I think it’s going to be something very interesting.” She’s also developing a new short film, supported by a screenwriting grant from the Finnish Film Foundation, which is expected to enter production by the end of the year.

At the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, director Terézia Halamová premieres her short film, "Dog and Wolf", in the Future Frames: Generation NEXT of European Cinema section. Supported by European Film Promotion and Allwyn, the program highlights promising new voices in European filmmaking. With "Dog and Wolf", Halamová offers more than a film — she delivers a visceral meditation on identity, silence, and the unstable boundaries between reality and performance. A Portrait of Identity in Collapse “The film follows the different stages of his sleep deprivation and takes us through his chaotic life,” Halamová says of Rudo, her 25-year-old protagonist. This male stripper has abandoned sleep and stability in favor of a spiraling, nocturnal existence. But beneath the neon lights and club rhythms lies something far more fragile: a young man dissolving under the weight of his own disorientation. Rudo’s story is told not in the language of exposition, but through image, rhythm, and absence. "Dog and Wolf" refuses to frame identity as fixed or knowable. Instead, Halamová suggests it is a mask worn in the service of others — and often, worn so long we forget what’s underneath. “Their daily routine is to change costumes and pretend, and to fulfill other people's fantasies,” she notes. In Rudo’s world, the act of stripping becomes a metaphor for something far deeper — the emotional exposure of a man who no longer knows who he is when the lights go down. A personal and generational metaphor The film’s title, "Dog and Wolf", draws from a twilight idiom that exists in French, Slovak, and Czech — "the hour between dog and wolf", a time when darkness distorts perception and friend becomes foe, safety turns to threat, and clarity fades into confusion. For Halamová, the metaphor is deeply personal and generational. “It’s this stage of life for many people in their 20s when everything feels chaotic... and the search for identity gets very messy,” she explains. Silence as a Language “Silence... is one of the most powerful tools in cinema. It can say so much more than any dialogue,” says Halamová. In Dog and Wolf, silence becomes a weapon, a refuge, and a mirror. The film builds emotional tension not through exposition, but by contrasting scenes of chaotic movement with moments of near-absolute stillness, inviting the viewer to project their own emotional interpretation into the gaps. A Platform for Connection Being part of Future Frames is more than a career milestone for Halamová — it’s a moment of shared visibility. “I’m 100% so honored and happy to get this platform,” she says. It’s not just about showcasing "Dog and Wolf" but about connecting with audiences and fellow filmmakers who recognize the emotional undercurrents running through her work. Her hope for viewers? “Hopefully, they feel lighter about life,” she says. “If you leave the cinema somehow feeling lighter or seen or understood, that’s the most I could ask for.”

Emerging film director from Ljubljana, Jan Krevatin is taking part to the 8th edition of the Future Frames Program at the 59th Karlovy Vary Film Festival with his short  film "Greek Apricots". With the Future Frames Program for talented young directors, the European Film Promotion EFP takes ten outstanding film school graduates from throughout Europe to the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival (Czech Republic). The directors get the chance to present their short films to the international industry and the public at the prestigious A-list film festival. "Greek Apricots" is a story of alienation, about two people, a female truck driver and a sales clerk forming an unexpected bond over their Macedonian roots. The film stars Labina Mitevska, who made her debut in 1994’s Oscar-nominated Before the Rain. With his previous short film, "JOŽA", Krevatin received the “Jelena Rajković” Award for Best Director Under 30 at the 32.Days of Croatian Film.

In this interview Palestinian filmmaker based in the Netherlands Sabrine Khoury, talks about her short film “The Miracle of Life”. Combining animation and reality, the film explores authentic emotions such as fear and doubt, and the difficulty of recognising oneself in an often idealised and stereotyped depiction of motherhood. In the context of the ongoing atrocities in Gaza, Khoury reflects on the right to experience pain and the privilege of those who can live safely. The film is also an open letter to her son, encouraging him to proudly embrace his Palestinian identity in a world scarred by conflict. “The Miracle of Life” won both the Best Documentary and Audience Awards at the 19th IFF – Integration Film Festival

“The End“, Joshua Oppenheimer’s first fiction film, will be released in italian cinemas with I Wonder Pictures from July 3, 2025. The two-time Oscar nominee for the documentaries “The Act of Killing” (2012) and “The Look of Silence” (2014) brought, with the help of I Wonder, an exclusive group of italian journalists right on the salt mine in Sicily where the film was shot. We watched the film there and right after that, we had an exclusive interview with both Oppenheimer and actor George McKay playing in the film along with Tilda Swinton and Michael Shannon. The film is set in a post-apocalyptic world where only one family is living underground trying to survive and live a “happy” life and it is, without doubt, a metaphor for the process of dehumanization we’re all experiencing right now. About that, Joshua Oppenheimer comments: “My work is always about rehumanizing the people that we would be tempted to dismiss as monsters. They’re humans, these characters are nameless because they are us”. “The End” is a mix of thriller, dystopian future drama and musical and its themes such as climate change resonate with today’s world.