Raid
Twelve years after a brutal police raid shattered his dream of becoming a teacher and leaving the Romani settlement on the outskirts of a small eastern Slovak town, Igor has found his calling as a mediator between the world inside and outside the settlement, helping local Roma with official matters and advice. He also supports his sister Veronika in raising her four sons, determined that his eldest nephew Martin will be the first in the family to make it out. But during the hot summer holidays, school and learning are the last things on Martin’s mind. With his brothers and friends, he escapes to the river and the cornfields, where battle games follow their own rules.
Although Igor’s case ended in his favor at the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg, the police officers remained unpunished and active in the region. When disturbing testimonies of new police brutality against Roma settlers begin to spread from a nearby village, Igor must confront not only the violent images returning to his mind but also the limits of the help one can offer while living on the margins of society.
Through the observation of children’s games and the magical dimension of recurring nightmares, the film highlights the importance of collective memory in a place where life is lived day by day, as well as the need for understanding across a deeply divided society.
Although Igor’s case ended in his favor at the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg, the police officers remained unpunished and active in the region. When disturbing testimonies of new police brutality against Roma settlers begin to spread from a nearby village, Igor must confront not only the violent images returning to his mind but also the limits of the help one can offer while living on the margins of society.
Through the observation of children’s games and the magical dimension of recurring nightmares, the film highlights the importance of collective memory in a place where life is lived day by day, as well as the need for understanding across a deeply divided society.
I had a Dream about an Elephant
On the Slovak–Hungarian borderland, far from both Bratislava and Budapest, Mikuláš Vareha built his own "state within a state". The former policeman made his fortune on multimillion-euro tax fraud, handed out jobs, food and village parties, and became the "King of Zemplín" – worshipped by people the state had forgotten.
The film captures him after nearly a decade in prison. His kingdom lies in ruins, yet his ego refuses to surrender. He plans a comeback amid mud and rust – starting dead limousines, summoning his people, dreaming of a zoo with an elephant in the middle of the Zemplín plain. But his properties keep crumbling, and so does his body.
In early 2026, reality delivers an unscripted cut: Vareha dies suddenly while feeding his chickens. Everything he left behind passes to Daniela, the partner who stood beside him for decades – the only person whose voice he truly listened to. She does what he never could: she accepts the end. She auctions off the cars, sells the buildings, tears down what cannot be sold, and finally parts with the legendary petrol station where it all began. Yet in a tragicomic paradox, she commissions a larger-than-life statue for his grave, works on a book about his life, and lends her patronage to songs about the "King of Zemplín".
The empire ends up as scrap. The myth around him keeps growing. The film is a study of populism, of how a man like Vareha rises to power, and why his myth outlives him.
The film captures him after nearly a decade in prison. His kingdom lies in ruins, yet his ego refuses to surrender. He plans a comeback amid mud and rust – starting dead limousines, summoning his people, dreaming of a zoo with an elephant in the middle of the Zemplín plain. But his properties keep crumbling, and so does his body.
In early 2026, reality delivers an unscripted cut: Vareha dies suddenly while feeding his chickens. Everything he left behind passes to Daniela, the partner who stood beside him for decades – the only person whose voice he truly listened to. She does what he never could: she accepts the end. She auctions off the cars, sells the buildings, tears down what cannot be sold, and finally parts with the legendary petrol station where it all began. Yet in a tragicomic paradox, she commissions a larger-than-life statue for his grave, works on a book about his life, and lends her patronage to songs about the "King of Zemplín".
The empire ends up as scrap. The myth around him keeps growing. The film is a study of populism, of how a man like Vareha rises to power, and why his myth outlives him.