Olivér Csendes

At a dusty crossroads in the Soviet Union villagers surrender their possessions - a horse, a samovar, a goat - to the state. The train which takes them away brings to the village a physically and mentally handicapped woman, barely able to speak. She makes herself bracelets of burrs and studies herself in a cracked and cloudy mirror. Befriended by very few, teased and tormented by many she seeks protection at a huge portrait of Stalin.

1989 in Budapest. A gang of teenagers is roaming about in the city. They are hanging around, longing away from here, their parents do not care about them. They sustain themselves by breaking up cars and by minor robberies.

Few writers today tackle sweeping, multigenerational family sagas, work that demands vast life experience and insight. József Attila Prize–winner Árpád Thiery has done just that: his two published volumes of the Freytág Siblings’ story (1943 through the late 1960s) have been adapted by Hungarian Television into a five-part series slated for January 1989, and he’s already completed the trilogy’s final installment. Thiery describes it as a historical family novel, tracing postwar Hungary, from the Stalinist 1950s and the 1956 uprising’s aftermath to the upheavals of 1968, while celebrating freedom, truth, hope, boundless faith and innocent responsibility.

The story shows Emma's and Böbe's fight for survival, for keeping their position in society which they achieved with hard work in the previous regime. They don't want to lose their place and become village girls again.

Middle-aged writer (Kornél Esti) travels to Germany to deliver a lecture. During the long journey he recalls the memories of an other journey he made thirty years ago.

At the time of the regime change, Imre Kopa travels to Austria with three suspicious characters to buy various items for his client. But in Vienna, nothing goes as planned.

The film has a broken meaning, the last time he was a proofreader for a book publisher, he is now unemployed. Ever since he was a child, he has always been the one who pulls the short one, and he takes the wrong one. At the beginning of the film, he finds himself in such a "bunbak" situation again, and then he decides to become a professional bunbak...

Eckermann (Laszlo Kistamas) is a listless computer whiz who spends most of his time lounging in a bathtub holding imaginary conversations with cartoon characters usually more popular with children than grownups. He has some friends who want to use his skills to steal some money from a local gambling joint. He works out a scheme for his friends and returns to his tub. At some point along the way, he is joined in the water by a lovely Czech refugee, who (perhaps inadvertently) makes it possible for him to die there.

A cross-section of the relationship between the two great figures of French symbolism, Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine.

The Witness (Hungarian: A tanú, also known as Without A Trace), is a 1969 Hungarian satire film, directed by Péter Bacsó. The film was created in a tense political climate at a time when talking about the 1950s and the 1956 Revolution was still taboo. Although it was financed and allowed to be made by the communist authorities, it was subsequently banned from release. As a result of its screening in foreign countries, the communist authorities eventually relented and allowed it to be released in Hungary. It was screened at the 1981 Cannes Film Festival in the Un Certain Regard section.[1] A sequel was made in 1994 named "Megint tanú" (English: Witness Again).

A tale about an independent-minded university professor who leaves her family to travel across the countryside to visit a friend.

This Hungarian comedy depicts the exploits of 8 members of a travelling troupe of actors and musicians as they move about the country performing a series of one night stands.

1942. Owing to a stolen mink coat, Süti, the young poet and journalist, gets acquainted with Katalin, the idolated singer. Before being drafted to labour service, he shows the actress the song he composed for her, entitled Smouldering Cigarette.

The true story of Giorgio Perlasca, an Italian cattle dealer and avowed fascist who — trapped in Nazi-occupied Budapest after Italy's armistice with the Allies — nevertheless saved more than 5,000 Hungarian Jews from the Holocaust through a combination of lies, bribery and derring-do.