Koktebel

A film by Boris Khlebnikov & Alexei Popogrebsky

Following the death of his wife and loss of his job, a Russian engineer sets off from Moscow with his 11-year-old son for his sister's house in the Black Sea resort of Koktebel. With no money nor means of transport, they drift through Russia's expansive and mesmerising landscape at the mercy of chance. The father is content to drag his feet, stopping occasionally for the odd job to raise money while the son impatiently dreams of reaching the Crimean coastal resort to see gliders fly in the wind. For the father, the journey is an attempt to restore self respect, piece together his broken life and win back the trust of his son. For the boy, the mythic coastal town holds the key to a new life and emancipation.

During their journey they are met with many hurdles but the last encounter is with Xenia, a beautiful young village doctor who tends to the father's wounds. Since she is single and lonely they begin to fall for each other and this emerging relationship, as well as the father's recovery, threatens to delay the journey until the following spring. The son, who sees Xenia as an intrusion on the only loving relationship in his life, sets off to complete the journey by himself.

With a landscape of tracks, forests and wide open spaces integral to the conception of the story, this hypnotic road movie portrays the temporary liaisons that travel brings – with an understated tone of initial threat in the encounters, which comes from being exposed and homeless. The relationship between father and son is genuinely expressed through illuminating details; the story balanced between an earthly realism and a parable open to symbolism and interpretation. The simple plot is gracefully composed, with stunning lyrical visuals and an atmospheric soundtrack by Chick Corea. Wonderfully acted, delicately observed and beautifully shot, this award-winning debut feature from 2003 is also the story of the Russian landscape and the people living in the countryside.

Voices from the Shadows

A film by Natalie Boulton & Josh Biggs

A compassionate and moving exposé, bearing witness to the devastating consequences of psychiatric prejudice and medical ignorance about ME (Myalgic Encephalomyelitis), one of the most prevalent illnesses of the 21st Century.

Hidden away in darkened, silent rooms for years or even decades, are men, women and children suffering a cruel and invisible injustice. Although shockingly ill many are disbelieved, denigrated and blamed, suffering medical neglect and sometimes even abuse by the very professionals who should be caring for them. The isolation imposed by the illness means that the daily reality of these sufferers' lives remains invisible. Their courage and determination remain unseen and unheard as many are too ill to make their plight known, and others live in fear of retribution. Few doctors are willing to speak out to protect them since by doing so they risk damage to their careers and livelihoods. It is often left to carers, to partners and parents, to act as advocates.

ME (also known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or CFS), which affects up to 250,000 people in the UK, has been systematically denied and misdiagnosed. Medical ignorance is endemic, causing irrevocable harm to many patients. International biomedical research has been stifled; deliberate misinformation and prejudice are widespread; irrevocable harm is being caused by inappropriate and sometimes enforced 'treatment'. The situation is getting worse. However, new medical research is bringing hope and highlighting this travesty, but it could be many, many years before change occurs in the UK. Meanwhile, lives are being destroyed and children and young people remain especially vulnerable.

The film presents interviews with medical experts and people with ME/CFS and their carers, together with archive and other material provided by them in a collaborative effort. All involved testify to the shocking severity of this physical illness and challenge the deeply unethical professional conduct of sections of the medical and the psychiatric professions who deny the biological basis of a neurologically debilitating, severe, chronic and occasionally fatal illness, even though it has been officially recognised as such by the World Health Organisation for over 40 years. The film shows how children and young people have been coerced or forced, under threat of removal from their parents and/or admission to psychiatric wards, to undertake exercise programmes that have resulted in years and even decades of bedridden isolation, often in darkened rooms, suffering long-term paralysis and even death. As one of the medical experts involved makes clear, these tragic circumstances are the consequence of a situation where research funding follows political policy rather than medical need.

A profoundly moving, intimate and disquieting film by two carer/patient advocates – a mother and son. It reveals the enduring love, courage and determination of five sufferers and their families as they struggle for health, acknowledgement and respect.

How I Ended This Summer

Kak ya provyol etim letom
a film by Alexei Popogrebsky

A polar station on a desolate island in the Arctic Ocean. Sergei Gulybin, a seasoned meteorologist, and Pavel Danilov, a recent college graduate, are spending months in complete isolation on the once strategic research base. Their daily routine consists of recording and processing meteorological data which they submit at timed intervals by radio to a control centre – their sole contact with the rest of the world. They also have to monitor the now dangerously high level of gamma radiation being emitted by the old radioisotope thermoelectric generator, or RTG, still in use as a power source for the nearby navigation beacon.

Pavel receives an important radio message when Sergei is away on a fishing trip, but while he tries to find the right moment to tell him, his innate fear of the older man prevents him passing on the shocking news. From this deception, lies and suspicions poison relations between the two to such an extent that Pavel is in fear of his life, not just from the polar bears that roam the island, but from Sergei.

With the atmosphere of isolation and buried tension between the two very different characters
we see how distrust can so easily grow when given the right conditions. Pavel is young, bored and resentful of Sergei's dominance yet dependent on it. Sergei has spent a great many years in service at the station and cannot accept Pavel's perceived lack of commitment and acknowledgement of his own lifetime's work. In an environment and situation which is so unpredictable, and in which anything could happen, we cannot control how people react to things – and sometimes trying to prevent bad things from happening can be the worst choice, even though it is often the choice that most people will make.

A slow-paced minimalistic psychological drama exploring themes of responsibility, generational conflict, human fragility and self-preservation. Shot entirely on location in one of the remotest and bleakest places in the world, with a striking emphasis on both sound and image. This outstanding and award-winning film becomes a stunning existential tale of survival as the two men are forced to form a relationship of trust and, ultimately, forgiveness in the desolate Russian Arctic.

Postmen in the Mountains

Nashan naren nagou
a film by Huo Jianqi

Set in the remote mountain wilderness of China's southern Hunan Province in the early 1980s, a subtle, poetic and often poignant film of life's passages and the age-old story of the relationship between fathers and sons, tradition and change.

Slowed down by arthritis and forced to retire, a middle-aged postman passes his route on to his son, whom he accompanies on his final trip. Together, they deliver mail on a three-day, 115km-long walking route into the rural heart of China, and in the process the son learns from the inhabitants of the isolated communities more about the father he hardly knew. As the pair and the old postman's loyal and resourceful dog wander over the misty terrain like figures in a Chinese landscape painting, love, pride and dedication are revealed as deep as the rich emerald backdrop.

With his father often away on duty while he grew up, the son came to resent and fear his father, and felt bad for his seemingly abandoned mother. The old postman is deeply moved as his son relates his mother's anxiety whilst she waits for him to return home from every trip. But now as they journey together through the mountains, the young man truly experiences the toil and burden that his father has carried for years. He witnesses his father's deep friendship with the villagers he serves, and participates in a wedding celebration with the Dong people. As he comes to realise that the far-flung communities along the route totally depend on the old postman for much more than just the sending and receiving of mail, the son begins to appreciate the nobility of his father's profession.

This enchanting and very beautiful film is a heart-warming insight into the relationship of a father and son getting to know, and learning to appreciate each other after long periods apart throughout the years of the boy's upbringing. Wonderfully slow-paced and serenely poetic, with visually stunning scenery and gorgeous cinematography. Huo's outstanding third feature won top prizes at the Golden Rooster Awards 1999 in Beijing, followed by numerous nominations and awards in Japan, India, US and Canada.