Gennadios Patsis

A well-off young lesbian couple vacationing on a Greek island explores an abandoned hotel. An accident and a clash of different worlds set off a spiral of violence and revenge.

At age 19, Stratos committed a crime of passion. He spent half his life in prison, where underground boss Leonidas took him under his wing. One day during a rival gang attack, Leonidas saved his life. Stratos never forgot this. A free man now, Stratos works the night shift at a bakery workshop, a far cry from the killing contracts he executes by day. He gives away all his money to spring Leonidas out of prison, funding an escape plan managed by Leo’s brother, Yorgos. The fulfillment of his debt is the only thing that matters to Stratos, everything else is indifferent and he lives detached, surrounded by ghosts and fallacies. The day of the escape, the most important day of his life, is near…

After his wife died a man refuses to go out and doesn't want to talk to his only son. Life has no meaning for him. One day his son finds a baby pelican and decides to leave the bird at home. Pelican helps the boy find his father again and revive him back to life ...

Coming home to make amends with her estranged father, Eleni finds herself confronted with an unexpected kinship.

During a strange night, a prostitute, an opera singer, a fortune teller, a travel agent, a police chief and an insomniac meet by chance.

One night, a woman and a man in a house, while outside the city lives and entertains.

A husband whose young wife has committed suicide meets for the first and last time his Russian mother-in-law who has arrived to collect the coffin.

High Sabbath . The fireworks for the Resurrection feast will be the cause of a revival of an earlier, dark encouragement, between Luan and Thymios. The stranger and the locus, the atheist and the religious, the murmur and the "lamb". Our story ends in a dramatic one. Her victim, Harris, is a child immigrant. Albanian and Greek together. Christian and Muslim. The village is tall and it is FRONT.

Considering that Musakov’s Abdulladzhan (1991) was dedicated to Steven Spielberg, we might suggest that these four boys embody nothing more complicated than a conflict of youthful innocence with some ominous threat—the basic workings of E.T. (1982) or War of the Worlds (2005), say. That threat, however, is best understood not through vague nationalism or warmed-over socialism, but through the other reference-point of Abdulladzhan—Tarkovskii’s Stalker (1980). Musakov leaves his boys in a simplified radiance so bright and so overexposed that it no longer looks like the skies of sunny Tashkent, but a disturbing, borderless luminosity to match the flat tonal range of Stalker’s “Zone.” Our Uzbek boys are nowhere in particular; this is a broader domain than anything international.

This picture of Alisher Khamdamov is constructed as a legend of Bakhshi, who pulls his endless song about the brave defender of all the disadvantaged Namaz, thereby brightening up the halt of Russian officers who are serving a dull service in the Turkestan region.