Import Games
The series zooms on the gaming industry in an already established, but nevertheless unique Slovak and Czech scene. It shows how video games made their way to former Czechoslovakia and back to the outside world. Each episode explores one topic, jumping back and forth in time to create a dialogue between different generations - the game veterans who made games from scratch as a wonder back in the bleak 80s, and current talents bringing original ideas to the overcrowded indie scene.
From game veterans such as Tibor and Zajo from Fatbot Games, who started yet as a generation without guarantees and after years of experience in emerging local studio brands they decided to be the authors of their own fates. Back in the point of uncertainty, relying with minimal resources restlessly on their own dedication and judgment, they are now developing their third game after two installments of a stylish retro sci-fi Vaporum.
On the other hand there are young creators, such as 3D artist Šimon, for whom games have always been granted and his talent and studies abroad are tempting him to dare for higher goals. Or completely DIY authors such as graphic and game designers Bára and Tereza from Circus Atos, who are using the game medium as a space for child audience and to expand the possibilities of local artistic expression.
We also meet Michal and Maroš, a dynamic duo of theoreticians and historians from Trnava and the Slovak Museum of Design. They're not just collecting artefacts; they're crafting a narrative that defines broader societal connections through personal stories, shaping the future of gaming knowledge by fostering relationships and preparing us for the ever-evolving tech landscape.
We will present a range of stories, shedding light on an otherwise insurmountable amount of information, guiding you through different directions in each episode. Think of it like a narrative divided into game levels, each with its unique target, style, and rules of progression.
From game veterans such as Tibor and Zajo from Fatbot Games, who started yet as a generation without guarantees and after years of experience in emerging local studio brands they decided to be the authors of their own fates. Back in the point of uncertainty, relying with minimal resources restlessly on their own dedication and judgment, they are now developing their third game after two installments of a stylish retro sci-fi Vaporum.
On the other hand there are young creators, such as 3D artist Šimon, for whom games have always been granted and his talent and studies abroad are tempting him to dare for higher goals. Or completely DIY authors such as graphic and game designers Bára and Tereza from Circus Atos, who are using the game medium as a space for child audience and to expand the possibilities of local artistic expression.
We also meet Michal and Maroš, a dynamic duo of theoreticians and historians from Trnava and the Slovak Museum of Design. They're not just collecting artefacts; they're crafting a narrative that defines broader societal connections through personal stories, shaping the future of gaming knowledge by fostering relationships and preparing us for the ever-evolving tech landscape.
We will present a range of stories, shedding light on an otherwise insurmountable amount of information, guiding you through different directions in each episode. Think of it like a narrative divided into game levels, each with its unique target, style, and rules of progression.
This House is Undamaged
"This House is Undamaged" is a documentary that explores the complex transformation of Mariupol, a city in Ukraine that was extensively destroyed during the Russian invasion in 2022. The film explores reconstruction efforts under Russian control and highlights the strategic obliteration of war marks through rapid rebuilding.
One of the film's main narrative motifs is the deconstruction of media narratives about the reconstruction of Mariupol. Through a thorough examination of various media sources - from social media posts, amateur footage and propaganda videos to official reports and advertisements - the film seeks to reveal how the image of the city's "reconstruction" is carefully constructed and manipulated. By exposing the flaws and distortions in these depictions, the documentary critically analyses how the media plays a key role in shaping public perceptions of urban transformation, both locally and internationally.
The film unfolds not around a single character, but around the city itself. Mariupol is both the protagonist and the stage, a body whose scars, ruptures, and forced transformations are traced through found footage, propaganda clips, amateur videos, and fragments of memory. Its streets and buildings, its ruins and reconstructions, speak louder than any individual voice. But the city is not only seen — it is heard. Its soundscape becomes the deeper narrative, the pulse beneath the image.
The city is read as topography — a map in flux, marked by shifting borders of control, layers of rubble and scaffolding, zones of habitation and zones of abandonment. Satellite images dissolve into shaky phone recordings; promotional clips overlap with whispered testimonies. The city becomes a palimpsest, where destruction and construction exist side by side, each erasing and overwriting the other, yet never fully succeeding.
One of the film's main narrative motifs is the deconstruction of media narratives about the reconstruction of Mariupol. Through a thorough examination of various media sources - from social media posts, amateur footage and propaganda videos to official reports and advertisements - the film seeks to reveal how the image of the city's "reconstruction" is carefully constructed and manipulated. By exposing the flaws and distortions in these depictions, the documentary critically analyses how the media plays a key role in shaping public perceptions of urban transformation, both locally and internationally.
The film unfolds not around a single character, but around the city itself. Mariupol is both the protagonist and the stage, a body whose scars, ruptures, and forced transformations are traced through found footage, propaganda clips, amateur videos, and fragments of memory. Its streets and buildings, its ruins and reconstructions, speak louder than any individual voice. But the city is not only seen — it is heard. Its soundscape becomes the deeper narrative, the pulse beneath the image.
The city is read as topography — a map in flux, marked by shifting borders of control, layers of rubble and scaffolding, zones of habitation and zones of abandonment. Satellite images dissolve into shaky phone recordings; promotional clips overlap with whispered testimonies. The city becomes a palimpsest, where destruction and construction exist side by side, each erasing and overwriting the other, yet never fully succeeding.