Seasons

An exploration of the surreal and weird essence behind the veil of mundanity that shrouds the lives of Central/Eastern European citizens.

Euroddity excavates the roots of absurdity with tools of art and artifacts of culture - we’re observing not Gregor Samsa’s natural monstrosity, but his record collection, mid-century furniture, and an intricate diet preferences.

Our first session is the stunning dark gems of Juraj Herz, a master of mysterious macabre humour and a gothic visionary of the Czechoslovak New Wave. A gifted photographer and puppeteer, a very talented self-taught director, Herz ended up far from being a New Wave poster-boy - he was Czechoslovak cinema’s great outsider. Over two decades marked by misunderstanding from his peers and constant intrusion from the authorities, Herz pursued his gothic vision of an expressionistic world undone by forces beyond rational control.

On Saturday, 10th of January, we’ll watch two very different milestones of Hertz filmography - the pulpiest and schlockiest 1982 FERAT VAMPIRE, a John Carpenter-esque horror comedy about a demonic race car that runs on human blood, and 1969 THE CREMATOR - a renowned cult classic, the most purely disturbing title of the Czech New Wave, and an enduring vision of the depravity lurking just beneath the surface of bourgeois respectability.

And on the 21st of January, we’ll meet BEAUTY AND THE BEAST - a personal take on a classic fairy tale motif, heavily decorated with horror, romance, baroque costumes, and distinct, eerie Moravian and French landscapes and architecture. Released in 1978, this gloomy, dreamlike fantasy cemented Herz’s reputation as a maestro of the macabre and a talented conjuror of atmosphere.

Half a century ago, The Damned and the Sex Pistols released their first singles, and everything shifted. A nihilistic and violent reaction to the grim artifice of late capitalism, social conformity, and lost future.

This year, The Nickel will explore punk filmmaking in all its forms, from raw DIY independent filmmaking to features that incapsulate the chaotic refusal of order.

Punk cinema is less about style than stance. It refuses polish, refuses comfort, refuses explanation. Fifty years in, these films are still raw and alive.