‘Dreams,' Film About Teen Infatuation, Takes Top Prize at Berlin International Film Festival
The Norwegian drama 'Dreams (Sex Love),' a tender, often funny film by the director Dag Johan Haugerud, won the top prize at this year's Berlin International Film Festival.
Part of a trilogy about contemporary relationships in the Norwegian capital of Oslo, the understated feature follows the consequences of a high school student's obsession with her teacher and her decision to write about their relationship. The other two installments, 'Sex' and 'Love,' premiered last year at the Berlin and Venice film festivals.
In his acceptance speech, Haugerud said the film was about the act of 'writing and reading.' He added that people should 'write more and read more, it expands your mind.' He also praised the film's young star, Ella Overbye, whose warm, finely calibrated performance carries much of the film.
The American director Todd Haynes led this year's jury, which included the Chinese actress Fan Bingbing, the German filmmaker and actress Maria Schrader, and the Los Angeles Times film critic Amy Nicholson.
The runner-up prize went to 'The Blue Trail,' a Brazilian film set in a society in which people above the age of 77 are sent to a 'colony.' It was one of the most praised titles in competition at the Berlinale, as the festival is known in Germany.
'The Message,' a film from Argentina about a girl who claims to communicate with animals, won the special jury prize. In his speech, the director Iván Fund said the award represented a 'counterweight' to the government's drastic cuts to the cultural sector under President Javier Milei. 'Cinema is under attack,' Fund said, but 'film cannot be undone.'
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'Ukrainians have been stripped of illusion of control' — Filmmaker Kateryna Gornostai on Russia's war, cinema and reclaiming the narrative
When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, film director Kateryna Gornostai found herself questioning whether she would continue working. "I had this feeling that life — at least professionally — had come to an end," she says. "Who needed directors or screenwriters, then? At most, volunteers were needed, but hardly anyone involved in filmmaking." The urgency of documenting the war soon became clear, but emotionally picking up a camera didn't come easily. The 36-year-old filmmaker struggled with fear and doubt, knowing any shot she filmed could be her last. "It felt scary that you're filming, and these could be your last shots because now a missile will hit here. And that's all that will be left of you." Yet, she did return. In 2023, Gornostai began working on her first film following the start of the full-scale war. Her latest documentary "Timestamp," was screened at the 75th Berlin International Film Festival — making her the first Ukrainian director in nearly three decades to compete for the Golden Bear. The last was Kira Muratova's "Three Stories" in 1997. Gornostai attended the Berlinale only briefly, arriving just for the film's screening on Feb. 20, days after giving birth to her son. "Timestamp" follows students and teachers across different parts of Ukraine, including cities regularly pounded with Russian missiles and drones, showing what everyday school life looks like in the war-torn country. The film is both intimate and unflinching, offering a glimpse into how kids endure the hardship of growing up under constant bombardment. Gornostai dedicated the film to her younger brother Maksym, killed in action in 2023 while she was still filming. On June 11, the movie premiered in Ukraine. 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More than a decade later, she sees that moment as the foundation of a powerful wave of Ukrainian cinema. "(The Euromaidan Revolution became) a separation from that post-Soviet, Eastern European blend — because it used to feel like our cinema was perceived as part of Russian cinema prior. During the interview, Gornostai's tone sharpens when the conversation turns to Russia's cultural influence. For decades, Moscow cast a long shadow over Ukrainian cinema. Even after Ukraine's independence, Russian money and distribution networks kept a grip on the country's film industry. That influence didn't vanish with the invasion — it just evolved. Since the start of the war against Ukraine in 2014, Russia's film industry has shifted to propaganda. Yet, Russian films still screen at major international festivals, and Russian actors who support the war against Ukraine continue to win awards. "Movies are just one small part of a much bigger (Russian) cultural push," Gornostai says. "In fact, there is a huge campaign that has lasted for many, many decades, involving enormous financial resources, all aimed at creating an image (abroad). This is something that we (in Ukraine) have not done. And what we are trying to do now is to build some kind of postcolonial lens through which Ukraine should now be seen." 'Most of the films that have been screened somewhere weren't made thanks to the circumstances in Ukraine, but rather in spite of them.' Abroad, she says, fascination with Russian culture persists, while the understanding of Ukraine still lags behind. "The fact that there are signs of genocide committed by Russia and that the Holodomor could have already been recognized as a genocide a century back — very few people know that abroad. But they do know the great Russian ballet, literature — all those things that were deliberately built up, promoted, and became part of a certain stereotype." 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'They were funded either by private money, individual initiatives, or through international grants, producers, or festival pitching awards that made production possible. Documentary filmmaking can survive in this way.' A standout example is '20 Days in Mariupol' by director Mstyslav Chernov, which documented the Russian siege of the city in 2022 and won Ukraine's first Oscar in 2024 for Best Documentary. 'This is a huge victory for the truth itself. It preserves and engraves the history of Mariupol and no one will be able to distort it anymore,' Gornostai says. Gornostai's new feature film, "Antonivka," is expected to be released in 2027. Set in the aftermath of Ukraine's victory in the war, the film explores death. "Even when this war ends, it won't truly be over," says Gornostai. "Because already, so much pain has touched nearly every person. Everyone has experienced some kind of loss — from their homes to their loved ones. Many have lost the most precious thing of all: life itself." She believes that once the war ends, there will be a difficult period of collective reckoning — a time when people begin to process their grief. Her film, she says, is an attempt to open that conversation. "There's this ephemeral law that time heals. It works very strangely. It doesn't really heal. That's not the whole phrase," Gornostai says. "Time simply passes, and it's as if layers of new experiences start to build up after that very significant moment in your life — for example, the death of someone close to you. These layers grow, and it's as if they gradually distance you from that moment." "That's the subject I'm grappling with now — and it's a subject many others are facing too," she continues. "How do we grieve that kind of loss? How do we reflect on it? The film deals with many kinds of deaths, but at its core, one of its central elements is the acceptance of your own death — the one that awaits you." One of the central figures in the film is an elderly man who lived through famine and war. As Gornostai speaks, she recalls her two grandfathers who passed away. "Ukrainians have now been stripped of the illusion of control," the filmmaker says. "But still, I'd like to have the privilege of dying at a time when I know that my family will remain here, that people speaking the Ukrainian language will remain here, and that there is peace and life on this land. And that I am leaving it behind. Not dying in a moment of total turbulence and uncertainty about what will happen tomorrow — as if I'm leaving everyone in the middle of that." "So this is another privilege: a privilege to die in a free country. And this is one of the motivations for making this film." Read also: Wondering where to start with Dostoevsky? Try his Ukrainian contemporaries instead Hello there! This is Kateryna Denisova, the author of this piece. As Russia's war against Ukraine grinds on, Ukrainian filmmakers like Kateryna Gornostai are capturing stories that reveal the reality on the ground. I hope many people will watch these films and learn more about Ukrainian cinema and its directors through interviews like this one. Your support helps make this work possible. Please consider contributing to sustain our reporting. We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.
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