Balkan Film Week 2026

Solidarity is a word often evoked with nostalgia in the Balkan region. A speck of the past ideological and social system that once strived to promote and ensure connection, empathy and support between its citizens. Solidarity signified a moment for joint recognition of each other’s struggles and offered (even if sometimes only symbolically) comradeship in times of need. It meant; one is seen in their state of existence and if that sight denoted a requirement for assistance, it would be provided by the other. Albeit solidarity has a more proactive tone of engagement, one can also read into it a will to participate in others’ lives by sharing the same humanness and by recognising all that this entails. In that sense, assisting, sharing, and learning were all signs of the shared experience of ploughing through life.  Nowadays, unfortunately, solidarity sounds archaic or alludes to political leanings. In a world shaped by capitalism of extreme heights and newly awoken national aspirations, being there for another is often seen through an ethnic lens, “distracting” or even “inefficient”. Yet, if there is one guiding idea that the states of the wider Balkan region are able to relearn for themselves, and to teach others – it is the importance of community and participation.

This year’s Balkan Film Week theme is concerned with conversations led between the younger and older generations in the region. What and how does solidarity contribute to this generational cinematic conversation? Solidarity does not only contribute to the conversation but paints the engagement with a colour of genuine interest and attention. For what use are stories and storytelling if not to engage one another in a process of listening, reflecting and ultimately caring for that what is shared. We often forget the importance of personal curation; choosing ideas and memories that are close to us or that we find important to share with others as a response to their actions or worries. Nowadays, contributing attentiveness to the stories told is an act of solidarity in itself. What can happen when generations talk to each other, or better yet, listen? The older generation could teach the younger one about wars, survival and resistance, about the pains of the body and heart, about failed ideologies and expectations. They could speak of failures and aspirations, but also also reflect on passed experiences, reinforce calm and a believe and faith in human values that matter and which lead forward, rise above and gather all that is chaotic and unpredictable. On the other hand, younger generations could share their current hopes and fears for the future, their challenges and milestones; their wins that enrich their lives and the obstacles they strive to move out of their way. A pathway that has been passed by the older generations and that was perhaps not expected to be revisited again.

The Balkan Film Week programme opens with the film Fantasy by Katarina Rešek (AKA Kukla). Fantasy is the name of the protagonist, but it can also allude to a space where one can imagine, reinterpret and redefine the identity frames one grows from or into. A fantasy can come true, or it can show itself as cruel and false as Lauren Berlant[1] would warn. Is the community we belong to safe or unsafe, and who is our community? Is it our families or those we choose on our own terms? The questions of belonging, family and negotiation are the themes of the films Lavender’(Mateja Raičković), A Whisper I Hear (Aleksa Bujišić ), In Hell with Ivo (Kristina Nikolova) and Graduation by director Cristian Mungiu.

Today, connection feels all-pervading in this digitally imbued reality. The concerns are global, the trends are common, and the desires are cloned. However, this is not the reality for the majority of youth still struggling for opportunities. The film I Have Never Been on an Airplane addresses the issue by following a group of friends from Kosovo in their desire to see Berlin. It can be easy to take things for granted if one is in the privileged position, yet, films like these show that the best stories lie in everyday quests and desires. Thinking about travelling, it is perplexing when the stories of the younger generation meet or even clash with those of the older generation. Questions of movement, sexuality and love, but also workers’ rights, have been addressed decades ago, yet today it seems that these rights have never been addressed and have evaporated.

It is exactly here at this threshold of past and present that this year’s programme invites the viewer to explore the memories of the older generation. Brave, longstanding and courageous in their past endeavours but also fatigued. The latest release by director Želimir Žilnik, Eighty Plus, follows an older gentleman who returns to the land of his roots, seeking justice for his home, but also finding love. Žilnik’s new film evokes the past yet is happy for the future that lies ahead; a wise contribution of a cineaste in his own right and his own legacy. Bringing the past also back to the frame with a mixed sense of nostalgia, sadness and potential, is Jasmila Žbanić in Blum, which pays homage to a once successful company and a labour system that worked with and for the people engaged in it. There is a sense of awe and despair when one compares the current state of labour markets and human rights in relation to the ones depicted in this film. In this respect, the winner of this year’s European Film Award for Best Documentary – Fiume o morte!, is a cleverly made film that reflects the local history of Rijeka (Croatia) as a response to global governance failures; reminding us all how fascism operates, deludes and destroys. In the same manner, but with a bit more fun, the short films Koki, Ciao! by Quenton Miller and Granny’s Sexual Life by Urška Djukić and Emilie Pigeard, contribute to the way in which the past can be interesting to experience through the eyes and mouths of those who witnessed it.

We live in a world where attention is monetised and profitable for those who do not consider the impact of their actions on the community. Questions about where and how one invests time and one’s attention have been, and now more than ever, political. In that sense, making, sharing and witnessing films that enhance connection and reflection between different generations, groups and communities is a political act that continues to be a mark of solidarity, humanity and hope for us all.

[1] Berlant, Lauren, ‘Cruel Optimism’, Duke University Press, 2011.