33 Animals of Santa Claus (33 zveri Ziemassvetku vecitim) By Laila Pakalnina

The camera follows her as she is walking her six dogs through the black-and-white winter landscape of Riga’s neighborhood, and the people she meets on the way can’t hold a smile. And neither can the viewer, when, back at the apartment, she brushes her beloved pooches, collects the fur, spins some yarn from it and knits a sweater, having to stop at one point when a fight breaks between her animals in another room.

Sound is an important aspect in the film as dogs, cats, rabbits, rats, birds and even fish join in what sounds like a perfectly composed symphony, creating the feeling of togetherness. However, listening to the woman’s sweet talk about her pets one can’t help but notice the loneliness of somebody with no family, even though the family is barely mentioned. The feeling intensifies as the camera moves outside, where children are playing in the snow with their parents by their side.

According to Uldis Jancis, the film’s DOP, the decision to shoot in black-and-white was made in order to make the winter landscape look more graphic. But it also helps in creating the overall melancholic atmosphere of light sadness and longing, typical to the Baltic tradition of creative documentaries.

By Albina Griniūtė