Supposedly, all it takes is 36 questions and you’ll fall in love with anyone. Marie (Alena Doláková), a dancer who has just turned thirty, and her boyfriend František decide to check out this scientific theory for themselves. Yet can we rely on our love for other people if we don’t even know ourselves? A supremely contemporary view of 30-something individuals trying to navigate the way ahead.
What do you do when love simply isn’t on the cards and keeps passing you by? 60-year-old Kristýna has lost her last ray of hope, so she goes off with her daughter Sára to talk to a fortune-teller about her sorry lot in life. One year on from Mirrors in the Dark, Šimon Holý brings us another wholly independent film about life’s traumas as seen from a female perspective, this time with a liberal dose of esoterica on top.
After years together, Petr and Hana, partners in work and in life, share their unspoken erotic fantasies. What begins as an innocent conversation gradually turns into curious experimentation with a non-monogamous approach to their relationship. But sexual freedom tastes differently for each of them. Without resorting to exploitation, Tomasz Wiński’s feature debut considers questions that are taboo for many couples. Borders of Love explores not only various forms of intimacy but also ways of depicting it on the big screen, since, among others, the protagonists themselves film each other on their mobile phones. Appearing in the main roles are Matyáš Řezníček and Hana Vagnerová, who collaborated on the film’s story and script as well.
Three young actresses go to the Karlovy Vary Film Festival together. The successful Adéla will present her new film. The burnt-out Ema goes to support Adéla. And carefree Soňa just wants to enjoy movies and parties. But the days at the festival don't go as expected and the three women's friendships and careers are put to the test. Can they still manage to outwardly act like they're happy and at ease? Šimon Holý's comedy shows the harsh truths about the film industry and the acting profession. It describes authenticity as a goal that is hard to achieve.
Zdena, a woman in her mid-fifties, lives in a small Czech village near the Slovakian border. Her quiet life is disrupted when her son, Lukáš, returns home from abroad, claiming to have found success on the Canary Islands. Lukáš’s return is prompted by a peculiar request from Zdena’s elderly mother, Věra, who, nearing the end of her life, asks for a visit from Czech pop singer Helena Vondráčková. This request triggers events that expose Lukáš’s secret life as a drag queen, testing family bonds and challenging the social norms of their rural environment.
Our hero is 25-year-old Štěpán – a nice enough guy but a bit of a waster who doesn’t have a clue what to do with himself. At the call centre where he works, he is jolted out of his lethargy when he takes a call from the mysterious and seemingly level-headed Marie. This playful flick revolves around young protagonists full of insecurities who are struggling to break out of the crushing stereotypical mould. And although Štěpán might not know exactly which path to take in life, the mere decision to put one foot in front of the other indicates a certain degree of progress. In its chosen stylisation the film opts for bizarre condensation and, in places, ventures into absurd poetics; even so, it reveals great understanding for its characters’ faltering moves.
Relationship between two women – mother and daughter in the second half of the 20th century. The story takes place in a old family house. The mother is confined to bed unable to move in her daughter's custody. The daughter comes in her mother's room to take care of her with a confession to tell. Something happened with her son and her mother's grandson three years ago.
Mischievously self-assured Mára and somewhat eccentric Heduš set out into the frozen wastes in search of adventure – by car, naturally. After all, Mára’s turning fifteen soon. A road movie about the flies that occasionally buzz around even in winter, and a story that tells of the elusive bond of boyhood friendship and the irrepressible desire to experience something, even if you don't exactly know what.
