Marie-Magdalena Kochová

The Other One

In her feature-length debut, Marie-​Mag­da­le­na Kochová uses the character of eighteen-year-old Johanna to explore the phenomenon of “glass children” – children who, because they have a special-needs sibling, are neglected by their family, however unintentionally. They often feel invisible, their problems are always considered less important, and they are often expected to help take care of their disabled brother or sister. Johana is about to graduate from high school, and so she must decide whether to leave home to study, or stay and help her parents. An immensely sensitive account of the nature of sibling love which, for once, puts “the other one” first. Anna Kořínek (kviff.com)

The Other One

In her feature-length debut, Marie-​Mag­da­le­na Kochová uses the character of eighteen-year-old Johanna to explore the phenomenon of “glass children” – children who, because they have a special-needs sibling, are neglected by their family, however unintentionally. They often feel invisible, their problems are always considered less important, and they are often expected to help take care of their disabled brother or sister. Johana is about to graduate from high school, and so she must decide whether to leave home to study, or stay and help her parents. An immensely sensitive account of the nature of sibling love which, for once, puts “the other one” first. Anna Kořínek (kviff.com)

The Other One

In her feature-length debut, Marie-​Mag­da­le­na Kochová uses the character of eighteen-year-old Johanna to explore the phenomenon of “glass children” – children who, because they have a special-needs sibling, are neglected by their family, however unintentionally. They often feel invisible, their problems are always considered less important, and they are often expected to help take care of their disabled brother or sister. Johana is about to graduate from high school, and so she must decide whether to leave home to study, or stay and help her parents. An immensely sensitive account of the nature of sibling love which, for once, puts “the other one” first. Anna Kořínek (kviff.com)

3 MWh

A nuclear power plant worker obsessed with counting has set a maximum limit on how much electricity he wants to consume until the end of his life. In this grim but masterful 35mm film-poem with strong mathematical undercurrents, Marie-Magdalena Kochová presents to us a story of a man whose life is moving towards transformation. A loving acceptance of the fact that we are not just our bodies, but energy too.

3 MWh

A nuclear power plant worker obsessed with counting has set a maximum limit on how much electricity he wants to consume until the end of his life. In this grim but masterful 35mm film-poem with strong mathematical undercurrents, Marie-Magdalena Kochová presents to us a story of a man whose life is moving towards transformation. A loving acceptance of the fact that we are not just our bodies, but energy too.

Shells

The elevator at a nursing home is the perfect place for a dancer to explore the limits of his body, memory, and the flow of time. Imprisoned by four walls, he is forced to face the helplessness of his own weakening body. Starring Pina Bausch’s long-time soloist Jan Minařík, one of the most important Czech dancers of the twentieth century.

Shells

The elevator at a nursing home is the perfect place for a dancer to explore the limits of his body, memory, and the flow of time. Imprisoned by four walls, he is forced to face the helplessness of his own weakening body. Starring Pina Bausch’s long-time soloist Jan Minařík, one of the most important Czech dancers of the twentieth century.