Islam Islamov

While investigating a murder case, prosecutor Halima Bazieva receives from a bandit nicknamed Black a cassette tape exposing the machinations of local mafiosi operating in the city. The mafia has its own people everywhere - from law enforcement agencies to the highest echelons of power. The forces in this mortal battle are too unequal...

An escaped prisoner, breaking the laws of hospitality, kills the dog of a boy whose grandfather gave him shelter. He placed a sharp piece of metal in a piece of meat. The police arrived and shot the dog. The boy grew into a small, pitiful, absurd, side-eyed man, who froze his genital organs while rescuing a dog, unable to have children, which his wife complains about very much. He works as a driver. While transporting a white piano from the collective farm to the club, he turns off the road so as not to run over the sheep, and the car falls into the river. A white puppy follows him everywhere and creepy and funny stories constantly happen. But he lives his dreams, writes poetry, his only friends are dogs - he gets kicked out of work, his wife leaves him. The real trouble comes - war.

After many years in a Soviet punishment camp Sadik returns home to his village. There he must learn that his brother, who has always been a conformist follower of the Soviet system, lives with the same conformism in post-communist Turkmenistan.

Dans un futur proche, le Premier ministre norvégien, écologiste convaincu, annonce l’abandon, au profit d’énergies alternatives, de l’exploitation des énergies fossiles qui ont fait la richesse norvégienne. Mandatée par les États de l’Union européenne, la Russie décide aussitôt d’occuper le pays et d’y relancer les forages pétroliers. En quelques heures, Oslo et ses provinces sont mises sous tutelle. Sans chars ni bruits de bottes, la Russie étend son emprise, mettant désormais politiques et citoyens norvégiens face à un dilemme : résister ou collaborer ? Résister, au risque de tout sacrifier à des idéaux patriotiques et démocratiques abstraits, ou s’accommoder de cette omniprésence russe qui perturbe si peu, en apparence, l’ordre des choses ?