Jan Syruček

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.

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.

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.

They think as Czechs, they speak as Czechs, but they look as Vietnamese. How is the second generation of Vietnamese people in Europe?

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.

A family of five lives together in an old village house. While the parents are slowly aging, the children are growing up, and it is clear that they will soon go their own way. This unchanging rhythm of everyday life is disrupted by the unexpected news of the mother’s pregnancy, and the idea of a new sibling gradually affects all members of the household. March to May is an understated, intimate portrait of family togetherness, which is often expressed in the smallest of ways. An unassuming yet highly original story, filmed with the same tenderness and patience with which nature awakens every spring. Vojtěch Kočárník (kviff.com)