Lukas Schöffel

Piggy Bank

Filmmaker Christoph Schwarz is broke. Fortunately, he gets an offer from ORF. But does Schwarz really want to document his self-experiment as an environmental activist? Wouldn’t it be better to reorient the longterm experiment into a critique of capitalism and secretly buy the desired weekend house with the film budget? A self-mocking film about double standards, which playfully and humorously shows that the problems you clear away, are often smaller than the new ones that you thereby create.

Tomorrow I leave

Portrays the life of a woman who always has to leave someone behind. Maria is a 24 hour caregiver. Once every 4 weeks, Maria leaves behind her Romanian village and embarks on a journey of over 1000 kilometres in order to care for elderly people in Austria. In the meantime, her own aging parents are left to their own device. Her husband Daniel also looks back on many years of hard labour abroad. He now takes charge of the household. Their two sons, however, envisage a completely different future. After 4 weeks Maria returns, yet she is not to stay. One day, she would like to use the money she has earned abroad to open a small bed and breakfast in order to be able to quit traveling.

Tomorrow I leave

Portrays the life of a woman who always has to leave someone behind. Maria is a 24 hour caregiver. Once every 4 weeks, Maria leaves behind her Romanian village and embarks on a journey of over 1000 kilometres in order to care for elderly people in Austria. In the meantime, her own aging parents are left to their own device. Her husband Daniel also looks back on many years of hard labour abroad. He now takes charge of the household. Their two sons, however, envisage a completely different future. After 4 weeks Maria returns, yet she is not to stay. One day, she would like to use the money she has earned abroad to open a small bed and breakfast in order to be able to quit traveling.

Rupture

Mrs. Pospisil lives alone in an apartment in an old building in Vienna. The elderly lady's increasing forgetfulness prompts her son to suggest that she move into a nursing home. But then suddenly a crack opens up in one of the walls of her apartment, through which something enters Mrs. Pospisil's world that will change her life forever. Paul Ertl's highly efficient and picture-perfect The Crack is a psychologically underpinned mid-length horror miniature that transforms into a utopia as casual as it is original as it is gently disturbing, and is ultimately also a powerful plea for the autonomy of older people.