A scientific expedition travels to an alternative Earth in hope of finding a new home for humanity, which has destroyed its own planet. But is it even possible to escape old patterns?

Take them to your leader. When sexy Moon Maidens invade the bodies of three earth women, they learn the meaning of human sexuality.

The world’s museums are closed. What are you missing?   Take a real-time walk through the Louvre towards the “greatest painting ever” and contemplate what it would be like to be there yourself.

A series of unusual sightings has a man heading out into the night to find answers, only to be interrupted by his ex moving out.

Oscar works at a company that designs mental simulations, technologies that expose the crumbling inner worlds of patients. What begins as observation soon draws him deeper into these fragile realities, until the line between watching and living dissolves.

I am sitting in a room is a sound art piece by American composer and sound artist Alvin Lucier composed in 1969. The first performance of the work was in 1970 at the Guggenheim Museum in New York. In collaboration with his partner Mary Lucier. The piece features Lucier recording himself narrating a text, and then playing the tape recording back into the room while re-recording it. The new recording is then played back and re-recorded, and this process is repeated. Due to the room's particular size and geometry, certain resonant frequencies are emphasized while others are attenuated. Eventually the words become unintelligible, replaced by the characteristic resonance of the room.

Through an imagined dialogue with Jean Paul Riopelle, this experimental film updates the painter's legacy by seeking to build bridges with today's generation. Part homage, part self-portrait, this short film is above all an intimate reflection on the courage to be oneself.

For Filmmaker Film Festival (2023), Fulvio Baglivi and Cristina Piccino asked some filmmakers (R. Beckermann, J. Bressane, D’Anolfi/Parenti, T. De Bernardi, L. Di Costanzo, A. Fasulo, F. Ferraro, M. Frammartino, S. George, ghezzi/Gagliardo, C. Hintermann, G. Maderna, A. Momo, A. Rossetto, M. Santini, C. Simon, S. Savona)  to give us their own "lost road," that is, a sequence, scene or piece of editing that did not later find its way into the final version of one of their works.  Each fragment has its own accomplished presence, often has a different title from the film it was made for, which is not necessary to have seen in order to find meaning; on the contrary, those who set out thinking they know the world they are walking through will find themselves displaced.

Set in the near future, a student accidentally discovers old photographs of the same stretch of beach taken by school students over the past 65 years. The temporal distance between the old photos and the protagonist immediately creates a sense of disorientation. In a sort of time loop, we witness successive generations, all drawn to the same thematic focal point.