Virginija Mačionytė

When a tenacious tax inspector takes on another of her investigations, the success of which can guarantee a managerial post, a charming suspect on the road shuffles all the cards and recalls true values.

A set designer Gediminas lost his job just before the holidays. He decides to put on Santa's costume and work on the street. The biggest surprise for Gediminas will be a boy, who suddenly appeared in the life of a miserable man.

Timid and restrained Andrius lives in a monotonous marriage with his wife Sandra. And then there is the pressure to have a child. Father-in-law Vytautas, who lives happily with his wife Marta, is convinced that "small" sins and missteps are the basis of a strong marriage. The father-in-law wants to help his son-in-law save his marriage and advises him to relax and look around more... Soon the attractive lady Sarlote appears among the men and the situation starts to heat up.

A train pulls into snow-covered Paneriai, raising a cloud of snow in its wake. Eitvydas Doškus’s Next Stop Paneriai offers a distinctive continuation of the cinematic exploration of the city begun in Once Upon a Vilnius. This time, however, the railway becomes the axis of a story about multilayered time. Traces of the past are preserved by the Paneriai Memorial and an abandoned tunnel inhabited by bats, semi-feral cats and crumbling houses mark a vanishing present, while children playing at school turn our gaze towards the future. These layers of time overlap like images changing one after another through a train window, making it impossible to clearly distinguish what has already happened from what is yet to come. A meditative film distinguished by its evocative soundtrack, Next Stop Paneriai creates a sensory portrait of a part of Vilnius that is most often simply driven through.

A train pulls into snow-covered Paneriai, raising a cloud of snow in its wake. Eitvydas Doškus’s Next Stop Paneriai offers a distinctive continuation of the cinematic exploration of the city begun in Once Upon a Vilnius. This time, however, the railway becomes the axis of a story about multilayered time. Traces of the past are preserved by the Paneriai Memorial and an abandoned tunnel inhabited by bats, semi-feral cats and crumbling houses mark a vanishing present, while children playing at school turn our gaze towards the future. These layers of time overlap like images changing one after another through a train window, making it impossible to clearly distinguish what has already happened from what is yet to come. A meditative film distinguished by its evocative soundtrack, Next Stop Paneriai creates a sensory portrait of a part of Vilnius that is most often simply driven through.