The patriarch of the family enters the hospital with COVID-19 and because of hospital protocols his family members are forced to say their goodbyes via video conferencing.

The patriarch of the family enters the hospital with COVID-19 and because of hospital protocols his family members are forced to say their goodbyes via video conferencing.

“Nobody Leaves Alive” by André Ristum is shot in beautiful but also distancing black and white. Looking at the Venice line-up, this seems to be a trend this year among the maestros of cinema. The film is inspired by true events that took place in the last century in the “Colonia” hospital in Brazil. Whoever didn’t fit the standards of society, or their family’s perception of it, was locked away, tortured, and killed. There were altogether more than 60,000 victims. Hope dies last, and some of the inmates don’t give up the fight. We’re reminded of film classics such as “One Flew Over the Cookoo’s Nest” or “Alcatraz”.

An Ivy League professor returns home, where his pot-growing twin brother has concocted a plan to take down a local drug lord.

Hacking at Leaves documents artist and hazmat-suit aficionado Johannes Grenzfurthner as he attempts to come to terms with the United States' colonial past, Navajo tribal history, and the hacker movement. The story hones in on a small tinker space in Durango, Colorado, that made significant contributions to worldwide COVID relief efforts. But things go awry when Uncle Sam interferes with the film's production.

On the day in 1965 that the Pope visits New York and masses of people line the streets in adulation, Artie, a zookeeper living in Sunnyside, Queens, thinks it's time for his life to be blessed, too. He desperately wants to escape his lower middle-class existence and become a popular singer and songwriter, but his life is complicated by an ambitious mistress, a crazy wife and a bomb-making son.

Contact—so tactile, so evocative of the touch of one person on another, physically and emotionally. Trace—a way to get back to an earlier point and a reckoning with the remains of that initial encounter. Filmmaker Lynne Sachs has saved every business card anyone has ever given her. After 40 years of collecting, she recognizes their mnemonic powers. With 600 cards in her grasp, Sachs contemplates the impact of these haptic exchanges. In both real and imagined ways, her essay teases apart their vivid resonances, entwining emotional memory with geopolitical history through visual abstraction, music, and a poet’s sense of introspection.