Hargla Company

Twenty-five films from twenty-five European countries by twenty-five European directors.

Based on a Soviet propaganda story about Young Pioneer (the Soviet equivalent of a Boy Scout) Morozov, who denounced his father to Stalin’s secret police and was in turn killed by his family. His life exemplified the duty of all good Soviet citizens to become informers, at any expense. In our film, 75 years later, we call him little Janis. He is a Pioneer who lives on the Soviet collective farm “Dawn”. His father is an enemy of the farm (and the Soviet system) and plots against it. Little Janis betrays his father; his father takes revenge upon his son. Who then in this old Soviet tale is good and who is bad? This film reveals that a distorted brain is always dangerous. Even today.

This documentary follows a bustrip from Tallinn to Kaliningrad. A route that was so common in the Soviet times now passes through 4 different countries and crosses 3 different borders.

A film about a plastic spoon and a society that has reached a high level of development – oil is being retrieved from subterranean depths, transported to processing plants, turned into plastic, transported to another plant, where it acquires the shape of a spoon, transported to convenience stores, where we buy it, and is then soon tossed into the trash. In other words, this is a film about the efforts put into making a spoon that can be thrown away so effortlessly.

The Hijacker lands the plane at the Rīga Airport. 7 year-old Tom, travelling on his own, voluntarily becomes a hostage. Along with the traditional demands, the Hijacker adds the demands of the little hostage – beginning with some local chocolate and a self-instruction tape for learning the native language, and ending with organizing a Song Festival and a special biathletes’ performance – all ideas originating from a CD on Latvia.

A story about life in two minutes.

An absurdist farce centering around a school in post-Soviet Latvia. After a rather disgusting prank (someone defecates in the school attic), the tyrannical headmistress deems that no one can leave until the culprit is caught. When the photographer's pet python escapes, havok breaks loose.

The camera stands in a house, the lens pointing through the window, outdoors, where the occupants of the home are standing. They respond patiently to the camera operator’s directions: a small step to the left, a little bit forward, no, back just a bit, yes, that’s perfect. Dozens of people pose in this way for a full minute. There’s a man who lives alone, a large family, an older woman on a trampoline. Some are entirely at ease, others more self-conscious. Rabbits, dogs, and cats are allowed to join these portraits, too. All of them are captured within the natural frame of the windows, along with the lace or floral curtains.

A CrossFit trainer becomes the father of a baby girl, Snow White. Snow White’s mother dies, and her father marries a young woman obsessed with CrossFit and herself. She works out all the time in order to be the best. And she really is the best – she can do 50 burpees. In the meantime, little Snow White plays and grows up in the CrossFit gym. Time passes, and one day it turns out – while the Stepmother can do 50 burpees, Snow White can already do 53 burpees...

A film about everything changing while remaining the same. Or rather – everything remaining the same while changing. We observed this (and wanted to share) while standing (standing regularly and for a long time) on a road rather close to the Eastern border of Latvia, because we followed the suggestion of the locals who asked to shoot “that horrible road”.

A man in a grey coat roams the city. He is interested in boys and men. Those good enough for him will get a green bag. Marija is home alone. She is the only woman to get a green bag. But the film does not end quite there.

Rubiks’ Road is a bicycle path built in the 1980s and named after Alfreds Rubiks, leader of the Latvian Communist party at the time. One of the most ferocious opposers to Latvia’s independence in the early 1990s and later elected to the European Parliament.

Santa Claus lives on the fourth floor of an apartment block. Santa owns seven dogs, six cats, two rabbits, one crow, one pigeon, one chinchilla, one guinea pig, ten degus and some fish.

The intimacy of passing by. Heading home, to work, to see a friend, to buy dinner, or perhaps to the cinema. As the seasons change, we encounter fellow passengers along the way. They commute, sit, wait, get bored, maybe sometimes stare at their small screens more than through the windows – but they always reach their destination. Alongside them are kiosk vendors, vegetable and flower sellers, janitors, and drivers, whose daily routines complement the journeys of the travellers. Public transport stops become intimate crossroads, offering us an unexpected, moving visual symphony of Riga neighbourhoods.

There should be silence in a museum. And someone should see to it that the silence is there. It's the logical order of things. However, it might seem weird to somebody.

The First Bridge is a film about frontiers, barriers, the ways to cross over and see what goes on, on the other side. But it also a film about time, as it was shot on Kodak Negative Films acquired in the year 1997 and discovered intact in 2018.

Even before Marija was born it was clear that she would be a person getting in trouble all the time. However, that’s not all. The most important thing is that she is often alongside firemen. Is it because things around her catch fire?

Just like ordinary people, whole nations often wonder why their neighbors are living better than they are. For example, where did the Estonians living on Mohni Island suddenly get bicycles and sewing machines? Could the answer have some connection with the Latvian cargo ship "Rasma", which sank near Mohni in 1941?

This film is about wondering why the world is the place that it is. Wondering, why beauty often lies in simplicity, or why taking something too seriously might result in the ridiculous, as playing can be at once the most important and serious thing to do.

As soon as I finished my first marathon, I wanted to become a tripod in order to make a film about it. That is because words are certainly not the right instruments to tell us what it’s like to run a marathon. I think we can try to show it through the characters, noises, texts, lights, the absolute physical understanding of shadows and of the sun, the water, the motions and the serenity. For those who do not practice running in marathons because they don’t want to or because they can’t, I wish to bring something from inside the marathon, out; for example, for my Mum, whose legs ache. I am acting like a spy sent into the marathon.