Aisha Can’t Fly Away: The Loneliness of a Migrant Woman

“Aisha Can’t Fly Anymore,” directed by Morad Mostafa, premiered in the Un Certain Regard section of the Cannes Film Festival

“Miocard” at TIFF 2025: A Tale of Bitterness and Pain in Four Stories

Miocard (Miocardio), directed by José Manuel Carrasco, was screened in the competition section of the 24th Transilvania International Film Festival in Romania—a relatively compact film that recounts a single event four times, from different angles and in various forms: a simple event, the meeting of a man with a woman who separated from him fifteen years ago, and now, it seems, a romantic rekindling is about to occur. But the film veers away from this predictable path and reaches a point the audience does not expect.

Everything could have unfolded in a clichéd fashion, but the filmmaker skillfully weaves his story with numerous twists, embedded in carefully written dialogues that reveal different facets of the characters. At the same time, in the end, through its final twists, the viewer is drawn into a world that, in fact, never existed from the beginning—and the only reality is the bitter and cold hand of life, where even the relationship between a couple—or a simple conversation between a man and a woman—becomes a dilemma.

The film begins with a writer, one who speaks in front of the camera about his story. Soon we are pulled into the story itself: the story of a man named Pablo, who has written only one book and hasn’t been able to write anything for ten years. He is battling severe depression and medication. Suddenly, the doorbell rings, and standing there is none other than Ana, who separated from him fifteen years ago. The woman enters, and it seems they still care for each other, but their conversation leads to painful memories, and she leaves. The writer gives them another chance, and everything happens again in the next take. This happens four times, and finally, when we return to the writer, we realize that not everything we were watching was real.

The repetition of events each time reveals subtle, intriguing details about the characters. In fact, each character becomes more and more familiar to the audience with each iteration—and, in turn, each time, both characters become increasingly aware of one another’s emotional states until we arrive at their fourth encounter: a confrontation this time stripped of any pretences, bold and exposed, progressing through the tears of both characters, revealing bitter truths about them.

One striking point is that the film doesn’t intend to appease its audience or send them home with a happy ending. Everything unfolds in a somber atmosphere, growing more bitter as the film progresses. In the end, we realize that the omniscient narrator is not the writer in front of the camera but rather us—examining the writer’s life and his relationship with his own work, and uncovering its sadness. Thus, we are faced with an engaging interplay of literature/cinema/reality that unfolds in several layers and draws the viewer in.

However, near the end, we encounter a sentimental scene in which the writer cries, and the interviewer sympathizes with him. This scene illustrates the film’s departure from its straightforward and compelling narrative—now dipping into overt and superficial emotional display, something the film doesn’t need—which somewhat undermines it. It seems even the filmmaker is aware of this, as the main character says in this scene: “Critics don’t like endings like this.” Fortunately, the film doesn’t end there. With one final twist, we witness another phase of the writer’s life, continuing the story he has written—and the bitterness he has endured in real life through his solitude—thus saving the film from a clichéd conclusion.

Colours of Time: Cédric Klapisch, the Impressionists, and Today’s France

Cédric Klapisch’s latest film, The Colours of Time, which was screened out of competition at this year’s Cannes Film Festival

“About Maya”: A Haunting Thriller of Identity, Exile, and Judgment | Screening at Mayfair Theatre, Ottawa – June 9–15, 2025

speak with co-director Nasim Naghavi about the creative journey behind the film, the challenges of telling a culturally rooted story

Exclusive Interview: “A Poet”; The Story of an Artist’s Defeat and Loneliness

A Poet (Un Poeta) directed by Simón Mesa Soto was screened in the Un Certain Regard section of the Cannes Film Festival

Death Does Not Exist”; Youth, Violence, and Doubt”

Death Does Not Exist is a new animated film that was recently screened in the Directors’ Fortnight section of the Cannes Film Festival. It is a different animation that tells the story of young people who, due to class differences, have turned to violence. However, the film blends the realities of society with dreams, where the main character experiences a deep sense of doubt.

Félix Dufour-Laperrière director of this film, discusses the details of the film in an exclusive interview with Mo Abdi.

“No Beast. So Fierce”; Shakespeare, Women, and the world today

Borhan Ghorbani, in No Beast So Fierce, brings Shakespeare’s Richard III into present-day Berlin. Once again, Berlin — vast, intricate, and sprawling — emerges as one of the main characters in the first part of the film. Here, Shakespeare’s tale of the crown is replaced by a power struggle between two immigrant families who control Berlin’s mafia. This terrifying tension lasts from the very first moments of the film to its end, immersing the audience in an atmosphere of brutal and chilling violence. The film opens with murder and bloodshed between the two families, followed by a complex web of relationships involving two brothers and their sister, Rashida. These scenes, captured during a party with a camera that snakes through the characters, hint at an even darker conflict: Rashida intends to usurp power from her older brother. In fact, the tension within this family turns out to be more violent than their feud with the rival clan. From here, femininity becomes entangled with Rashida’s ruthless ambition, gradually escalating into overt violence that dominates the entire second half of the film. In this exclusive interview, Borhan Ghorbani speaks with Mo Abdi about the details of the film.

Turnip Faced C-Word – Bring Them Down Review

April, directed by Dea Kulumbegashvili from Georgia, shares an astonishingly realistic image with its audience; a compact, raw, harsh, and gripping film about abortion that extraordinarily penetrates the feminine world of its protagonist, who finds herself at odds with the masculine morals and beliefs of the world around her. With an observant camera that does not interfere in the events nor tries to dramatize the scenes, it features an apparently raw yet calculated and unforgettable scene of abortion that will remain in the viewer’s memory forever.

In an exclusive interview with Mo Abdi, Dea Kulumbegashvili discusses the making and nuances of the film,

Time, Memory, and the Art of Getting Lost: Miguel Gomes on Grand Tour

In this conversation with acclaimed Portuguese filmmaker Miguel Gomes, we explore the layered world of Grand Tour, a film that slips between 1918 and the present, between colonial fantasy and fragmented memory. Known for films like Tabu, Gomes reflects on the influence of silent cinema, the ghosts of Chris Marker and Alain Resnais, and the burdens of cinematic memory in a time of increasing cynicism. Through evocative landscapes, missing characters, and a mosaic of documentary and fiction, Grand Tour resists narrative closure, opting instead for a fluid meditation on time, displacement, and the limits of storytelling. We also speak about tourism as a metaphor, the ethics of representation, and why cinema should never preach.

Championing Queer Cinema: An Interview with Bard Ydén of the Oslo/Fusion International Film Festival

In this conversation, Bard Ydén, the festival director of Norway’s only queer film festival, discusses the origins of the Oslo/Fusion International Film Festival, its approach to film selection, and the importance of supporting queer cinema. He also reflects on how the festival navigates difficult or controversial topics, secures venues, and overcomes staffing challenges, all while celebrating diverse voices and narratives in LGBTQ+ storytelling.

Amir Ganjavie, UniversalCinema Magazine (UM): Can you introduce yourself and tell me about your role in your organization?

Bard Ydén (BY): My name is Bard Ydén. I’m the festival director of the Oslo/Fusion International Film Festival. It’s the only queer film festival in Norway.
It was founded in 1990. It was called “Homofilmklubben” (the Gay Film Club) when it first started. Then it became “Skeive Filmer”, which simply means “queer films”. And then in 2015, we changed it to Oslo/Fusion so we could expand more on the programming, it felt like it was the right time.

(UM): And can you say more about the selection process? How do you pick movies? Is it through open submission?

(BY): We accept submissions through FilmFreeway. And then, I have a small team of screeners. So they watch the films. I watch obviously as much as I can. I watch all of their recommendations and then additional films. I’m also the senior programmer for international shorts at the Norwegian Short Film Festival, which is the only Academy Award qualifying film festival in Norway. So obviously, I get a lot of films from there as well. I’m in the middle of that programming process now. And of course I visit other festivals. I watch films, and then I have the final say in the programming. Summers are never a holiday. It’s programming time for me.

(UM): And do you have any kind of definition of what constitutes a good theme? What kind of movies are you mostly looking for when you say to yourself: “Okay. It’s a good movie for my festival”?

(BY): I don’t have a background in film. I met the director of my festival in 2003, and became part of the programming team the next year. So I learned by doing.
Now I pretty much just go by my personal taste and I listen to my team and the audiences.

What constitutes a good film? Storytelling is important, obviously. It can be low budget or big budget, if there’s talent and a great story, I wanna screen it. And there are so many different ways to tell a story. A couple of years ago, The People’s Joker premiered at TIFF. It’s a highly original film by young filmmaker Vera Drew. It was pulled from TIFF after one screening after threats from Warner Brothers, because it was all based in the DC universe with Joker, Batman, and many original characters. It was an homage, directly tied to her journey as trans, and I am very happy we managed to show it in the end – and it won the Grand Jury Award. It’s a pretty good example of a DIY filmmaker who makes it work.

This year, we’re also gonna show Luca Guadagnino’s Queer, which I find absolutely mezmerizing. So we will as always present a combination of indie film and studio films, in many genres. In addition, we screen between 80 and 120 short films every year.

(UM): Is there any kind of region where you showed more interest or became a part of your festival in the countries?

(BY): I’m always looking for more films from the African continent.

(UM): Films made there are very few.

(BY): I mean, they have a big production, but not many queer films. And it’s been hard to reach, but through partnerships and friendships, I hope that we will make that work. But it’s important for me in the process to have as many countries represented as possible, because I don’t want us to… I mean, as a festival, we should experience other people’s cultures and expressions, not get stuck in our own bubble of white privilege. You know? So, yeah, I think between thirty-five and fifty countries are represented every year in the program.

(UM): And in terms of political stance, some festivals, for example, don’t accept movies right now from Russia or, for example, from some countries with authoritarian regimes. What about your event?

(BY): We don’t accept Russian state-funded films. But usually, Russian state-funded films aren’t really queer. Israeli state-funded films are also on the boycott list, but that doesn’t mean a personal boycott of Israeli or Russian independent filmmakers. Last year we had an Israeli filmmaker visit with her film she made at a French film school.

(UM): And when you are saying that you are, for example, supporting queer cinema, do you have any kind of definition of what you mean or what for you represents queer cinema?

(BY): You know, anything that strays from the heteronormative lifestyle can be seen as queer.

(UM): For example, I saw a movie in which the main character was in love with a chair. So I’m just curious.

(BY): I mean, sure – that could be something to consider. Absolutely. Amanda Kramer had a film, By Design, at Sundance this year, where Juliette Lewis became a chair.

(UM): Yeah. Yeah. I watched that movie. Very beautiful. I loved it.

(BY): I don’t think we’re gonna show it, because I don’t think we’re gonna have an audience for it. But that’s a film that could… I mean, we’ve had… probably a little bit controversial, but we had an Austrian film called The Outing. It’s about a young man who discovers that he has feelings for younger boys and he tries to get help. He’s never acted on his desires, never assaulted a child, but he’s struggling to get help from the system. And he thought by being open and making this film, that would help him, you know, not commit a crimes. And it was interesting to see how we’re so quick to label them monsters, yet not offering any help. So it’s an important film in that respect, too. And it was well received by our audience, which was good. It’s important to include difficult films as well because we are very often compared to paedophiles anyway. So, just shedding light on difficult topics and addressing them.

(UM): This is very interesting because the problem that sometimes I have with some festivals is that they are trying to promote a kind of left or liberal position, but they are mostly following a kind of state agenda. So they are following what the state is saying, and they are trying to define according to that, what is normal and what is abnormal. But I always consider the queer, that kind of resistance against this particular realization and going against the state. The fact that you are mentioning that you are even going against what might a state impose as a kind of normal relationship and trying to show a different way of life, is something that I really like.

(BY): With queer festivals, you know, our existence—we’ve always had to justify it or fight for it. So for queer people to simply exist, that is a political act in itself.

In 1972, homosexuality between men was decriminalized in Norway. And the first person to openly come out as a gay person was Kim Freile. She did an interview with the state TV channel, where she explained homosexuality, and very eloquently so. And everything she said on TV in January 1973 are 100% the same arguments we use today. So yes, we’ve come far in many ways, but at the same time not, because we have to justify our existence in the exact same way that she did fifty years ago. And in the US, the Stonewall riot is probably gonna happen again. We’re going backwards, and we have to be prepared to fight even more. This does not affect only the queer communities, and we must come together in a bigger way to smash fascism.

(UM): I had a conversation with Denis Côté because his recent new movie, “Paul,” is about a guy who has a kind of masochistic tendency, and he likes to be a slave. And we had this conversation that at the end of that movie, the movie changed himself and it posed more about himself and his experience on social media. And he became a kind of celebrity. And at the end, we came to the idea that, to what extent cinema should represent human fantasies? Because at some point, humans like to, for example, have some hidden fantasies and revealing them, all of them, through cinematic gaze might make them less interesting or might devalue them as a kind of cashier.

(BY): I don’t know if I necessarily agree with that. I think everyone wants to see themselves and their lives represented on screen. And I think representation is very important. You know, if it’s a documentary, people usually choose to participate and expose themselves, which is very admirable in so many ways. If it’s a work of fiction and the filmmaker has done their research properly, you know, I’m all for it. I think it’s great.

At Oslo/Fusion we do show sexually explicit material as well. We’ve had scripted and documentary films covering a spectrum of sexual themes, and the audience here respond well to these films. A few years ago, we presented a Sensate Films documentary called Love Hard, about BDSM. We meet several protagonists, and one couple engaging in blood play, which I thought I would struggle to watch. But the way it’s presented, and the way they so eloquently talk about it and show us, it becomes clear this is about intimacy and trust.

I FEEL LIKE THIS IN YELLOW IS REDUNDANT

(UM): I understand your point of view but I’m just thinking, I don’t know if you’ve read it or not, Baudrillard has a book on seduction, and when he talks about seduction, he mentions that seduction works mostly through the hidden, that if we make it very clear that we want to seduce another person, it loses its value. It loses its meaning.

(BY): Yeah, yeah. But, you know, people try to seduce other people in different ways. If I try to seduce someone, you would think that I was deranged because I cannot flirt. You know? I would love some tips. But no, I don’t. I don’t know. There’s not a lot of mystery left in the world, I feel. You know, get rid of social media for a little bit because it’s, oh my god, we’re getting dumber through social media. It’s like who needs programs like Love Island or Sex on the Beach or whatever it’s called.

(UM): Some festivals are struggling in terms of having regular staff. They have, for example, only temporary staff. I’m just curious how is the situation at your film festival?

(BY): What do you mean temporary staff?

(UM): Working for two or three months and the rest of the month, they need to work at another location. And that’s causing a kind of insecurity for people who are working. They don’t have regular jobs.

(BY): I’m the only person at the festival who is employed. The other people on the team have other jobs. So they don’t necessarily work all year round. The majority of them come in during or right before the festival. But it’s hard to find people who can commit.

(UM): Is it because they are needed to work in voluntarily?

(BY): Yeah. And we can’t hire them permanently. So if another job comes up, I understand completely that they have to take that because it is paid and it’s better paid. I try to pay everyone, but I can’t hire them full-time.

(UM): And in terms of venues, is it easy for you to secure venues? Do you have your own venue? How does it work?

(BY): Our regular venue is the Cinematheque in Oslo, which is the Norwegian Film Institute. So that’s a regular one. And then there’s another independent cinema, it’s called Vega Scene, we collaborate with. Our third venue is Salt Art & Music, an event and music stage where we’ve had screenings, sauna events, and our annual The Rocky Horror Picture Show screening with audience participation. And then there are, throughout the year, smaller places that we collaborate with, like galleries, museums, bars, clubs – you name it.

(UM): One of the serious challenges for many festivals is making people come to the festival, especially after COVID or after the rise of platforms or streamers. I’m just curious. How was the situation at your festival?

(BY): It was funny for us because, in 2020 and 2021 when everything was shut, there was a window, like, a two-week window during the festival. So we actually managed to have a physical festival throughout the pandemic, but at 30-50% capacity. We didn’t really see a drop in attendance which was nice.

(UM): I think I asked all of my questions. I wonder if there is anything that you think might be very important to mention.

(BY): I want to encourage people to support queer film festivals. There’s a lot of great films that will only play a queer festival circuit, and they deserve a larger audience. There’s so much talent in the queer community, and so many important stories, and queer films are often regarded as lesser, which is really unfair. So, yeah, support queer films and queer artists – they will enrich your lives.

Thank you for talking with me!

Instagram: @oslofusion

Interviews