Chanting of the Dunes has so far won over 40 awards and 20 nominations! The film takes viewers on a dazzling journey through multiple countries and during momentous world events that extend from the Levant in the 1920s to the U.S. and China in the 1990s. Chanting of the Dunes recounts the life of Wahbi Al-Hariri-Rifai who was an accomplished international artist, architect, archeologist, and author. It is told through the mixed perspective of his wife, Widad Marachi, who married him at the age of 15. The fascinating storyline is full of unexpected turns and is accompanied by a superb award-winning soundtrack. The film is beautifully illustrated through hundreds of meticulously restored black/white and color archival photographs and original footage. According to festival managers, the film exceeds all expectations and represents a new cinematographic genre between narrative feature and documentary. Many have called it “extraordinary, moving, mesmerizing, full of messages...”

I am a documentary filmmaker living with bipolar disorder. I have turned the camera toward myself and begun documenting the process of making my first feature film. Throughout this journey, bipolar disorder and the shifting conditions of my country have been my greatest challenges, while inner reflection and artistic creation have been my strongest sources of support. In this sense, the documentary offers a sincere companionship both to those on the path of self-discovery and to individuals going through similar experiences.

Evara, which means gift of God, deals with the cycle journey of our character who finds herself in the middle of the climate change crisis in the conflict between city and nature. Based on the philosophy of second nature and social ecology, Evara is a critique consisting of questioning, resistance, observation and feelings and is reflected through performance art.

Through the eyes of the Karşıyaka Sports Club announcer, we witness the club's story, its history and culture, touching on the passion of its supporters, in an unconventional account of Karşıyaka Sports Club's one-season tale.

What happens if older people challenge stereotypes in films about aging? Six seniors re-perform scenes of poor health, sexual invisibility, and gendered stereotypes of the wise old man and the bad witch. Toward the end of the film, the participants rebel against these cinematic images, proving that older age can be associated with love, sexuality, and self-revelation.

Kamikia and Lewaiki, from the Khĩsêdjê people, are forced to abandon their largest village after detecting pesticide contamination that poisons their land, rivers, and food. Surrounded by monocultures of soy, they fight to protect their culture, their families, and their territory, facing an invisible enemy that threatens their very existence.

Le chien qui boit le thé, is a film that explores Beninese Voodoo as it is lived on a daily basis. It's a rare immersion in cults and ceremonies, in traditions shaped by men for men. Populated by magical and supernatural creatures, voodoo enchants photographer Jean-Claude Moschetti, who for over 20 years has been making visible to the uninitiated a parallel world that is superimposed on reality. The face of the Dog who drinks tea, he is the one who opens doors, knows secrets and codes. Neither an ethnologist nor a researcher, he is simply on a quest for magic. In his lens: mermaids smoking by the ocean, the dead dancing, a bird-woman spreading fear... His studio is in the modest ghost convent of Affinon, his friend and Egungun dignitary. It was Egungun who initiated him into the secrets and sacred cults of the ancestors. But this year, their destinies take opposite paths: one rises to the sacred, the other is struck by a curse. Fate or destiny? Voodoo offers those who dare to step forward the chance to negotiate their path. But beware of the unwary: a vengeful pig is on the prowl, stalking evil.

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.

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.

"Bocuk" traces the remnants of a Balkan-Turkic belief said to date back to the Middle Ages, still alive in a remote village of Thrace. This docudrama explores the contemporary meaning of an ancient winter ritual and documents the local narratives surrounding it. Blending fear with tradition, the film invites viewers to discover the extraordinary Night of Bocuk, a practice still observed across generations in Turkey.

“Tight Lines” tells the story of a woman whose life is woven with nets, beginning each day with the sea. She does not merely make a living from the sea; she speaks to it, challenges it, and endures alongside it. Fishing is often perceived as a man’s profession, yet in this documentary, the hands guiding the nets belong to a woman. Rastgele goes beyond the act of casting nets into the water, revealing a quiet yet powerful resistance that makes the unseen visible.

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.

Radio, My Love is an investigative documentary that frames radio broadcasting as an arena of struggle. The film revolves around the experiences of women who entered the profession in the 1970s by taking exams to join TRT, first established as an autonomous broadcasting institution. The documentary is based on the oral history project titled “Women Radio Broadcasters in the History of Turkey. It weaves together archival recordings with contemporary interviews, bringing voices from different eras together to reveal how these broadcasters shaped both the sound of radio and the cultural landscape of Turkey during a pivotal period.

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.

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.

"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.

A woman who lost her father follows the historical route that she and her father used to follow. During the journey, she tries to understand her own connection to the city. While she compares her father's Istanbul in his youth and today's city, she ironically conveys the problems such as unplanned urbanization, ecological distortions, and crowd. Throughout the journey she talks to her father, while she uses the city as a metaphor for remembrance and nostalgia in relation with grief and loss.

"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.

Angie (34) takes her father Mansour (74) on a roadtrip from Brussels to Beirut by car in an attempt to retrace the same path he took 42 years ago. However, the route is no longer the same, and neither is their relationship.

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.