It may only be a tower block on the edge of a forest, but you can tell by the look on the faces of the people hoping to join the building's community that this must be one of the last bastions of civilisation in a world that has fallen apart. To live here, shielded from a dangerous environment, is the goal. But when the caretaker's dog disappears, an irrational fear spreads among the residents. Security officer Anna makes an appeal for reason and begins to search for the animal. Meanwhile, her daughter Iris locks herself in the bathroom. She is convinced that, with her "evil eye", she herself is responsible for the dog's disappearance. When a newly formed vigilante group demands stricter security measures and a renewed suitability test for the entire community, Anna begins to fear for her right to stay. In Natalia Sinelnikova's feature film debut, the microcosm of the high-rise provides the setting for a timeless dystopian experiment. At the film's centre is the power of fear - a self-replicating system that can shatter social cohesion, and has long dictated current social and political discourses.
Ioana Iacob naked lying in a plastic tub with bubbles in it on the floor of a living room, her hands and feet in other plastic bowls as we get a view of her breasts from the side. From We Might As Well Be Dead (AKA Wir könnten genauso gut tot sein).
