How to Be Normal and the Oddness of the Other World (Florian Pochlatko)

How to Be Normal and the Oddness of the Other World marks Florian Pochlatko's daring and dynamic directorial debut, turning the intricate subject of mental illness into a visually striking, almost graphic novel-like cinematic experience. The film follows twenty-year-old Pia, a psychiatric patient portrayed with remarkable nuance by Luisa-Céline Gaffron. Her journey unfolds in a finely crafted blend of comedy, melancholy, romance, gripping drama, and surreal visual sequences.

Rather than shying away from the challenges of its subject matter, the film fully embraces them, refusing to romanticize or oversimplify psychological turmoil. At its heart lies a poignant love story that delves into the complexities of destructive relationships—their magnetic pull, their emotional turbulence, and the painful but inevitable need to break free. Bold, visually captivating, and unapologetically contemporary, this film avoids offering easy explanations, even refraining from explicitly labeling Pia’s condition.

From its very title, the film asserts itself as unconventional, provocative, and self-aware. It subverts audience expectations, disrupting established genre norms, narrative structures, and even its visual presentation.

Rejecting conventional cinematic storytelling, the film fluidly alters aspect ratios, shifting between satire and existential drama, between grotesque absurdity and profound psychological depth, reflecting the unpredictable nature of the human mind. Beyond merely exploring mental health, it serves as a commentary on the absurdity of modern existence – examining how society marginalizes those with mental disorders, simplifies complex issues with superficial solutions, and how we all struggle to find stability in an increasingly chaotic world.

Florian Pochlatko crafts a bold cinematic experiment that provokes, unsettles, and captivates—never allowing the viewer to remain indifferent. This is more than just a film; it is a statement on an era where the concept of «normality» has become fluid, and the boundary between reason and disorder is more fragile than ever.

 

Little, Big, and Far (Jem Cohen)

The film opens with Karl, an Austrian astronomer, reflecting on his lifelong passion for the stars and his love for jazz, which he considers the perfect soundtrack for space. He recounts his journey into astronomy, and in one striking sequence, the ESA probe Philae’s footage of a comet’s surface loops on the big screen, set to John Coltrane’s Manifestation from Cosmic Music, creating a mesmerizing fusion of sound and cosmic imagery.

At 70, Karl finds himself at a turning point. His consultant position at the university is uncertain, and his physicist wife, stationed in Arizona, is fully absorbed in her work, leaving Karl with the unsettling feeling that they are drifting apart. His interactions with Sarah, an astronomer in the U.S., bring a new perspective. Sarah is deeply concerned about ecological crises in the Anthropocene era, particularly the human-induced environmental destruction evident in recent events, such as the thick, orange smoke that engulfed the Eastern seaboard due to wildfires in Canada.

Their conversations lead to a story about an abandoned telescope in New Jersey, wrapped in local myths and legends. Sarah shares this tale through the observations of her perceptive yet laid-back PhD student. The film’s title, Little, Big, and Far, reflects Karl and his wife’s philosophy—our lives may seem small within the vast, ever-expanding universe, yet they are intimately connected to the grand cosmic scale. Filmmaker Cohen, much like in Museum Hours (2012), weaves a narrative that contemplates human relationships within the larger framework of the universe, blending documentary and fiction seamlessly through interviews and anecdotes from real scientists.

As Karl travels to Greece for a conference, he embarks on a journey to a remote island in search of the darkest skies. There, he meets eccentric locals who share their own theories about the solar system and ancient methods of timekeeping. The film culminates in a breathtaking final sequence—Karl sits atop the highest hill on the island, gazing at a sky ablaze with stars. In this quiet, awe-inspiring moment, Cohen invites us to reflect on the infinite vastness of space and the profound human connections that give meaning to our existence.

 

Dear Beautiful Beloved (Juri Rechinsky)

With Dear Beautiful Beloved, Juri Rechinsky seeks to reveal the unseen realities of the war in Ukraine—an ongoing conflict frequently covered by the media, but with far more devastating dimensions than what can be captured in headlines or news reports. His camera follows the harrowing experiences of volunteers evacuating elderly and sick individuals to safer locations, young mothers desperately trying to escape by train with their children, and a man and woman whose grim daily task is to retrieve the bodies of fallen soldiers, prepare them for burial, and await grieving families who must identify their loved ones.

Rechinsky employs a stark and minimalist cinematic approach, delivering images that leave an indelible mark on the viewer. These are moments that we would rather not witness, yet they serve as a painful reminder of the destruction that war brings. A woman suffers a heart attack while being transported to safety. A mother collapses in anguish over her son’s coffin. And as the van carrying a soldier’s body passes through villages, the locals kneel in silent tribute, their reverence underscoring the deep collective grief.

Despite the unflinching depiction of loss, Dear Beautiful Beloved does not entirely abandon hope. There are glimpses of resilience, as elderly women in shelters find brief moments of joy while getting their hair cut. The documentary closes on a poignant yet fragile note – a young mother finally boards a train bound for Budapest, singing a lullaby to her child. As we watch the sleeping children on the journey, we cling to the hope that they, at least, may inherit a future free from war.

The power of Dear Beautiful Beloved lies in its raw and unembellished storytelling—no need for excessive captions or explanations. The images alone carry immense weight, conveying emotions that words often fail to express.

 

Girls & Gods (Arash T. Riahi & Verena Soltiz)

Girls & Gods, directed by Arash T. Riahi and Verena Soltiz, is a thought-provoking exploration of the complex relationship between feminism and religion. The film follows Inna Shevchenko, a key figure in the Ukrainian feminist collective FEMEN, as she embarks on a journey across Europe and New York City, engaging in deep conversations with women from diverse backgrounds. Shevchenko, a staunch atheist, confronts not only fellow activists who see religion as an instrument of patriarchal oppression, but also theologians, priests, imams, and rabbis who argue that faith and feminism are not mutually exclusive. Rather than presenting definitive conclusions, Girls & Gods thrives on questioning, treating the subject with an open-ended, philosophical approach.

Throughout the documentary, Shevchenko meets women who have escaped oppressive religious laws, visits mosques, synagogues, and Bible study groups, and engages with members of Catholics for a Free Choice, an American movement advocating for abortion rights within the Catholic Church. Each interaction forces her to reconsider and refine her views, revealing a wide spectrum of perspectives on whether religion can be reformed to support women’s rights or whether it is inherently at odds with feminist ideals. The film does not attempt to reconcile these conflicting viewpoints but instead offers a space for dialogue, making the audience reflect on their own beliefs.

Ultimately, Girls & Gods challenges viewers to grapple with the same fundamental question that Shevchenko herself faces: Can feminism and religion ever truly coexist? The film does not dictate answers but instead fosters critical thought, pushing beyond simple binaries. Through its rich tapestry of voices, it reveals the tensions, contradictions, and unexpected commonalities between faith and gender equality, leaving us with a broader, more nuanced understanding of both.

 

Scars of a Putsch (Nathalie Borger)

Nathalie Borgers’ documentary Scars of a Putsch, premiering at Berlinale 2025, tells the story of former Turkish political activist Abidin Ertuğrul, who fled to Austria after the 1980 military coup. The film explores not only his personal history but also Turkey’s ongoing political struggles.

Ertuğrul bears seven bullet wounds, a haunting reminder of when he and fellow students were attacked by fascists in the late 1970s. Despite barely surviving, he continued his opposition against oppression. Now, decades later, he reflects on how history repeats itself in Turkey, where political suppression persists under changing regimes.

Using a mix of archival footage and present-day interviews, Scars of a Putsch connects Ertuğrul’s past with Turkey’s current reality. His journey back to Istanbul and encounters with surviving witnesses add depth to the film, making it a poignant reflection on resistance, memory, and the scars—both personal and national—left by authoritarian rule.