In Forty Days Road, two colleagues (Ali and Ian) set out on a captivating journey across Egypt to trace the long route of camels traveling from Sudan to a market near Cairo. Along the way, they uncover the tough conditions of transport and join the camels on a 24-hour journey from the Sudanese border to one of the biggest Egyptian camel market near Cairo.

The camera lingers, tracing a quiet alley where people go in and out of frame — glimpsed, reflected, and lost. A game unfolds in this stage, where shifting perspectives turn passersby into unwitting performers. Elsewhere, landscapes are slipping away and rebuilt on a cyclical pattern. A brief syncopation in a daily routine, a fleeting interplay of a place and bodies in motion.

Let me tell you a bit about the neighbourhood we didn't want to touch. 100th Year, Workers' Blocks Neighbourhood. Built for workers, squatters have been living there for years. Thousands of buildings have sprung up around it, glass towers, shopping centres, mosque projects offering donation opportunities on credit card instalments, demolitions, constructions, bars and barricades. We didn't want this; we deserved better. The year was 2013... The whole country was united around three or five trees. The wind from those trees enveloped a student and retired neighbourhood in Ankara. Do you know what we wanted? We didn't want them to build that road separating the school from the neighbourhood. We didn't want them to cut down the forest that was home to all kinds of trees and animals. We wanted to throw in your faces every day the image of the workers and women your system killed, and those you slaughtered in the name of labour, peace and democracy, erasing them the very next day. We wanted a tree planted, a field we cultivated together, a garden where we could come together and tend to the crops. We wanted a patch of land open to labour and sustenance, with no lock on its gate.

A film where fiction and reality collide; Richard and Kim decide to cowrite with the filmmaker, pieces of their future lives together. “Under my mother’s roof” is a portrait of a man who is facing his biggest fear; the diagnoses of his love with autism. A journey which will lead him back to his childhood biggest trauma, the loss of his mother.

"Son Yuva" (The Last Nest) tells the story of Ahmet Karakaya, a shepherd in Anatolia facing the harsh impact of the climate crisis. Torn between leaving his homeland or staying to fight for it, Ahmet must make a difficult choice. His struggle reflects the profound and universal disruptions caused by climate change, as well as the resilience required to face an uncertain future.

This film views the sea not as a landscape, but as a living space. Here, the sea is not a romantic backdrop; it is a life woven with sweat, patience and repetition. We approach Mavişehir Fishermen's Shelter not as a place, but as a memory. This harbour, whose location has changed with the filling of the shores, bears the traces of over a century of labour. Against concrete, time and transformation, we defend the continuity of the relationship established with the sea. This manifesto aims to make the great stories of small boats visible. The labour of fishermen who set sail in boats less than seven metres long is a form of living knowledge that is in danger of being forgotten in the shadow of industrial production. We stand against the loss of this knowledge. Repeating the mending of nets, the threading of needles, the setting out to sea before dawn... Because repetition here is not ordinary; it is resistance. This order, re-established every day, is an expression of the ancient covenant between man and the sea. While telling the story of the fishermen, this film focuses on silence, modesty, and the power of collective production. It sees accepting what the sea provides as a virtue. We take on the responsibility of photography, the camera, and witnessing. We advocate not just looking, but seeing; not just recording, but understanding. A Lifetime at Sea is not an elegy for the past; it is a mark left for the future. As long as this way of life built with the sea continues, cultural memory will also continue to live on. Some lives are not written on land, but in the wake of the waves.

"NONE" is a black-and-white documentary that explores an inner journey during the Şebi Aruz night. The film captures moments in the backstreets of Konya, where divine love and music intertwine. Focusing on this special night, it highlights how people from diverse cultures express their emotions through music. What seems like a celebration from the outside transforms into a profound spiritual quest and an exploration of the universal language of love. The film reveals the power of music to unite souls, emphasizing the common thread found in each culture's unique sound. "Hiç" offers an emotional experience that invites viewers on a journey not only through visuals but also through deep emotional discovery.

After the devastating earthquake on February 6, 2023, which affected 11 provinces in Turkey, the Kimyonok family, whose homes were rendered uninhabitable, moved into their cinema business and set up a home in the lobby.

The film was shot around the place of O Fieiro, a small village of no more than twelve houses and nine inhabitants, among them Rosa. A ninety-year-old woman who dedicates her last years to watching the rain through the window. Her father was a canteiro, a house builder, before the reservoir changed everything. Rosa remembers how her father lifted the stones and the people transported them from one place to another. It is shown as an abstract visual poem where the rain and the stones are the protagonists of the story Rosa tells us.

An American, a Japanese, a Canadian, a Frenchman and a Brazilian work as ballet dancers in very different Russian cities. The world around them collapses for reasons beyond their control, and the characters have to make the most difficult choice in their lives. A choice on which not only their career, but also their destiny depends.

The Altai Mountains, one of the ancient heritages of human history, are not only home to towering peaks and vast steppes, but also the birthplace of a culture, an identity, and a belief system. “Altai” is the documentary that tells the story of the Kazakh Turks, who carry the traces of the past forward and pass them on to future generations.

TRAINS is a found-footage documentary composed entirely of archive footage and sound design that creates a collective portrait of people in 20th century Europe, capturing their hopes, desires, dramas and tragedies. A train compartment is a place where people are taken out of their everyday context for a while. Sometimes the journey is accompanied by the hope that something will change in our lives upon reaching the destination, or conversely, by a stark absence of hope. And yet the history of the 20th century unfolds in railway carriages in a repetitive refrain. Every few years, hauntingly similar scenes play out in railway stations around the world: carriages full of men leaving for war, only to return wounded or as casualties. This cycle is followed by an exodus of civilians, evacuees mingling with prisoners of war returning from camps, and soldiers of victorious armies leading the defeated, until ordinary passengers reappear at stations.

During World War II, artist and photo montage master Alexander Zhytomyrsky uses his art to convince the enemy to end the bloodshed. Propaganda leaflets — passports to surrender — are dropped from planes in millions, aimed at soldiers on the front lines. Unlike bombs, they do not take lives, they are meant to save them. The creator of these leaflets works hard every day to see the humanity in his enemy amidst the hatred. Will he be able to preserve his talent and himself in this struggle?

This documentary shows the new popularity of thrifting; the core between sustainability and subculture creates a conflict because of the commodification of aesthetics- the perspectives of different people from different backgrounds.

Tevfik, who moved to New York with his family at the age of 2, relocated to his grandfather's home in Rize, where his father was born, at the age of 35 and started a new life there. Tevfik has been living in Rize for 19 years and is now the father of two children, working in agriculture. He sustains his life by producing tea and kiwi.

In a remote village in Xinjiang, language lost creates a quiet barrier between generations. Mountains, wrinkles, songs, children’s eyes—a bond beyond words lingers in the air.

He has amazing hands. With the most delicate gestures he directs a symphony orchestra. He worked with great people: Maya Plisetskaya, Rodion Shchedrin, Mstislav Rostropovich. He conducted at the Bolshoi Theater, the Bavarian Ballet, the Royal Swedish Opera. One of the best conductors in the world, Renat Salavatov shares the secrets of his mastery.

Ankara KuirFest transforms its 14-year history of resistance and solidarity into a queer memory space through its founders, volunteers, and artists. Despite increasing bans, the festival's continued existence as a form of cultural resistance lies at the heart of the documentary. The film makes visible both the personal and collective dimensions of queer existence by declaring, ‘We are here, we remember, we resist.’ Memory-like; a queer memory laboratory, a solidarity manifesto, and a living archive built with hope in defiance of every ban.