Nikola Klinger

Drugs have been with 73-year-old non-conformist Ian all his life, but times have changed. Whereas in the 1960s they were part of the counterculture, today the lavender farm is a place far from the outside world where addicts flock, not looking for different or better company, but to bring their own traumas. Nikola Klinger used Super 16 to film not only Ian's memories, but also a nostalgic chronicle of social processes. His portrait of individual and collective memory shows that there are two ways to enjoy freedom, either as a medicinal herb or a poison drug.

A platonic relationship between a young girl employed at a spa hotel and its former client develops through romantic letters full of old-fashioned respect, exchanged between the couple in the mid-50s.

In remote British Columbia, wildfires have become part of everyday life. The communities the film follows carry deep losses, visible in the burned forests and in the roadside posters of missing loved ones, many of them young women. Yet life here is shaped as much by resilience and solidarity as it is by grief. Nikola Klinger has made a film about people facing complex challenges who nonetheless believe in a better future. By weaving together the interconnected lives of the locals, the film creates a layered portrait of the landscape and the people’s bond with the wilderness, its magic and its myths. Residents live in the shadow of unsolved deaths and the disappearances of young people, finding an escape from their troubles in community solidarity and modern-day rituals, such as the demolition derby at the local wreck yard. “There is something alive out there in the bush; you can feel it, but you can’t see it.”

Drugs have been with 73-year-old non-conformist Ian all his life, but times have changed. Whereas in the 1960s they were part of the counterculture, today the lavender farm is a place far from the outside world where addicts flock, not looking for different or better company, but to bring their own traumas. Nikola Klinger used Super 16 to film not only Ian's memories, but also a nostalgic chronicle of social processes. His portrait of individual and collective memory shows that there are two ways to enjoy freedom, either as a medicinal herb or a poison drug.

Drugs have been with 73-year-old non-conformist Ian all his life, but times have changed. Whereas in the 1960s they were part of the counterculture, today the lavender farm is a place far from the outside world where addicts flock, not looking for different or better company, but to bring their own traumas. Nikola Klinger used Super 16 to film not only Ian's memories, but also a nostalgic chronicle of social processes. His portrait of individual and collective memory shows that there are two ways to enjoy freedom, either as a medicinal herb or a poison drug.

A platonic relationship between a young girl employed at a spa hotel and its former client develops through romantic letters full of old-fashioned respect, exchanged between the couple in the mid-50s.

In remote British Columbia, wildfires have become part of everyday life. The communities the film follows carry deep losses, visible in the burned forests and in the roadside posters of missing loved ones, many of them young women. Yet life here is shaped as much by resilience and solidarity as it is by grief. Nikola Klinger has made a film about people facing complex challenges who nonetheless believe in a better future. By weaving together the interconnected lives of the locals, the film creates a layered portrait of the landscape and the people’s bond with the wilderness, its magic and its myths. Residents live in the shadow of unsolved deaths and the disappearances of young people, finding an escape from their troubles in community solidarity and modern-day rituals, such as the demolition derby at the local wreck yard. “There is something alive out there in the bush; you can feel it, but you can’t see it.”